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Here is the beginning of a meta about playing RPGs (particular DA) as an actor/character vs a writer/director ... and how that changes the way I think about canon and fanfiction.
pixelnyx pointed me to a discussion on the bioware forum (http://social.bioware.com/forum/1/topic/304/index/7276962/2) about the difference between playing as the actor versus playing as the director by stating this:
"When I play RPGs, I'm telling a story. I'm the director of the movie, not the lead actor. The game's options are the script given to me. Honestly, if I wish to make my own choices as if I were in the game, then no game would be satisfying, no choice would be enough. .... In short, I have been playing as Varric, while you (and perhaps most players) have been playing as Hawke."
That statement resonates with me and I want to write a sizable meta about this once time allows.
The reasons why this statement resonates are much larger than DA2 and have far more to do with what makes a game engaging and enjoyable for different audiences. Likewise, do certain RPGs actually favor the player being a directorial role over the protagonists role for certain aspects of the game (DA2's story choices, FFXIII's battle system)? For now, I'm just sticking with the way story is handled in DA:O and DA2 while writing about this.
So, when I look back at my experience of playing DA:O for the first time, much of what I loved about the story and character interactions can be explained by me being deeply engaged as an actor-player. As the actor-player, I was emotional connected with the Warden I had created, along with an evolving backstory of motivations that I was creating for her in my head. I was interested in how she interacted with others, how she made decisions, and how her interactions and decisions changed people and the world around her.
Meanwhile, everything that aggravated me and broke my engagement in DA:O can be explained by the game not giving dialogue choices that I, the actor, wanted my character to say. When those wanted lines were missing from the script, the actor-player had no option to speak to the director about making changes or adding scenes. Those were the moments when I felt stuck in an underwritten script, and when the limitations of the game were painfully obvious. (Warden: "Alistair, we need to talk now." Alistair: "I've been programmed to say nothing at this point in time." ... or Warden: "People of Orzammar, I have but one question: WTF is going on?! Can anyone answer this?").
With DA2, my initial experience felt disjointed until I made the decision to stop thinking of myself as the actor playing Hawke and start thinking of myself as the person who is deciding which version of Hawke's story is being told. Hawke became an actor separate from myself and that actor had the freedom to engage in method acting, creating her own spoken dialogue based on my direction. Of course, the script is bounded but, as the director, I am choosing which order to do certain quests and I am directing Hawke to engage with the other characters in certain ways. I feel less in control of the outcome but, for me, becoming the director/writer was incredibly freeing and it made the story's natural limitations into assets rather than deficits. As a result, I ended up enjoying not only the story that was presented on the screen but all of the spaces in between.
Directors and writers always need to cut out far more story than they can tell. Thus, the gaps in between scenes and the juxtaposition of one scene's ending and the next scene beginning have meaning (Scott McCloud's first book on the language of comics talks a lot about this).
DA2's structure made me conscious of the gaps. The game's narrative is set up as a framed story told by Varric, there are three acts separated by multiple years over the course of a decade, each character in the game has an independent life of his/her own that is separate from Hawke's life. When I put myself in the role of the director/writer, those gaps took on lives of their own. The gaps required me (the director/writer) to fill in what happened in order to get Hawke from point A to point F, when points B-E are not shown on screen. Had I been the actor, the whole business of filling in the gaps would have felt like missing script. As director/writer, it is the norm to fill in gaps that are either going to end up on the cutting room floor, summarized in two words or one gesture, or woven in quietly as subtext. Playing the game made me think about the gaps while feeling (mostly) satisfied with the game's scripted story, limitations and all.
There is a lot more about the above that I want to say once I formulate my thoughts. Until then, I want to say something about filling in gaps and fanfic and how the "evolving fanfic sketches inside my head" effected my DA2 gameplay.
DA2 appeals to me far more for canon-friendly fanfic than DA:O. Don't get me wrong, DA:O is an amazing game for inspiring fanfic (or RPing) because the world is so huge, there are many different outcomes as choices are made, etc. etc. But unless the fic writer is writing backstory, post-game story, explorations of minor characters, "what if" alternate-canon stories, or interesting in-game vignettes, I feel like so much of DA:O's story of the Warden and his/her companions is successfully told in game. The missing scenes can be very interesting --- I have drafted many myself --- but I often wonder how much those missing scenes really add unless the fanfic writer is having a really deep insight or they have written the scene in a very beautiful/satisfying manner. Obviously, you can disregard this paragraph completely by saying "but this isn't why I write fanfic." That's fine. The point that I'm trying to make is the gaps in DA:O feel very different from the gaps in DA2 and those differences change the way that we read and extend those stories.
Here's the difference: when thinking about canon-friendly fanfic for DA:O, I feel limited to that which is possible in canon, whereas in DA2 I feel that it can include anything that is probable in canon, be it vaguely probable or highly probable. Obviously, fic doesn't need to be canon-friendly. I love what-ifs, alternate canon, back-story, post-game story, etc., but having all of those gaps in DA2 strikes me as very freeing when thinking about what could be happening during all of those empty spaces between the scenes.
Even without writing fanfic, I found myself doing this naturally while I was playing DA2 or, more likely, in between play sessions. Some of the obvious gaps/questions raised in my path through the gameplay include:
- If my particular Hawke loves and respects Anders so very much, what motivated her to decisively turn down his desire to start a romance during the middle of Act 2 and how did this play out between them during the rest of Act 2 after she said "no"?
- Despite my Hawke's 100% approval friendship with Aveline, what motivates the underlying almost-adversarial subtext between them? How does Aveline's dedication to Kirkwall's City Guard color her relationship with Hawke?
- Why didn't Thrask ever tell Hawke what he was doing? Why? Why?
- What is *everyone* doing off stage during all of those days, months, and years that are not part of the game, including the times that are part of the game but that character is off doing his/her own thing?
Not only do I find myself *more* engaged with a story when searching for answers to those questions, these kinds of questions make it more obvious that DA2's story is set up to allow gaps to filled in pretty much how ever the player (as writer/director) wishes within the larger framework of canon. Was Hawke the socialite of Hightown or did Hawke attempt to avoid the nobility like the plague? Did Hawke spend a lot of time off screen managing business operations at the mine? What relationships did Hawke have that Varric didn't include in the story? Who did Hawke meet with for dinner, or for drinks, or for a game of cards, or an outing along the coast?
By the middle of Act 2, I started giving my Hawke an off-screen sense of being that wasn't being shown on screen. And, in doing so, it became much easier for me (the director/writer) to give direction to Hawke. By taking a little bit of time to fill in gaps, think about the various characters on stage, think about how those characters related to Hawke and vise versa, I started building probable head canon that drove Hawke's motivation. From there on in, my in-game choices felt much more satisfying and purposeful.
Thus, as director/writer, I had sketched out a 'canon-probable Hawke' -- a Hawke who probabilistically could have existed in Kirkwall -- and as director/writer, I asked actor-Hawke to say lines and makes choices that fit my sketch of a 'probable Hawke.' That sketch includes many scenes that only exist inside my head, some of which are not very predictable, at least when I judge predictability based on a few conversations with other players and the fact that certain chunks of my headcanon are highly underrepresented / missing in fanfic.
This stands in contrast to my 'canon-possible Warden' -- a warden who followed one possible canon path through DA:O game -- and as the actor who was creating motivations and backstory for this warden, I had to search for dialogue lines and actions that felt in character (and IC responses were not always available). The extra scenes that exist inside my head are predictable for the character I played (again, judging from fanfic I've read and conversations I have had with other players).
...
So, I'm not sure where all of the above is going, but I have noticed that much of the fandom hate for DA2 is due to players feeling like Hawke doesn't have a sense of agency: shit happens and Hawke cannot do anything to change/save the world.
This wasn't a problem for me. In fact, I loved what DA2 did to the classic RPG PC-protagonist. But, at least for me, there was something about Hawke's story constraints that were also incredibly freeing. Even when I do find the occasional bits of fanfic that fill in probabilistic gaps the same way I did, the emotions and motivations they are portraying on the page often feel different from my (head)canon Hawke. I find this really interesting because Hawke is not a blank slate at all, and nowhere near as much of a blank slate as the Warden.
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"When I play RPGs, I'm telling a story. I'm the director of the movie, not the lead actor. The game's options are the script given to me. Honestly, if I wish to make my own choices as if I were in the game, then no game would be satisfying, no choice would be enough. .... In short, I have been playing as Varric, while you (and perhaps most players) have been playing as Hawke."
That statement resonates with me and I want to write a sizable meta about this once time allows.
The reasons why this statement resonates are much larger than DA2 and have far more to do with what makes a game engaging and enjoyable for different audiences. Likewise, do certain RPGs actually favor the player being a directorial role over the protagonists role for certain aspects of the game (DA2's story choices, FFXIII's battle system)? For now, I'm just sticking with the way story is handled in DA:O and DA2 while writing about this.
So, when I look back at my experience of playing DA:O for the first time, much of what I loved about the story and character interactions can be explained by me being deeply engaged as an actor-player. As the actor-player, I was emotional connected with the Warden I had created, along with an evolving backstory of motivations that I was creating for her in my head. I was interested in how she interacted with others, how she made decisions, and how her interactions and decisions changed people and the world around her.
Meanwhile, everything that aggravated me and broke my engagement in DA:O can be explained by the game not giving dialogue choices that I, the actor, wanted my character to say. When those wanted lines were missing from the script, the actor-player had no option to speak to the director about making changes or adding scenes. Those were the moments when I felt stuck in an underwritten script, and when the limitations of the game were painfully obvious. (Warden: "Alistair, we need to talk now." Alistair: "I've been programmed to say nothing at this point in time." ... or Warden: "People of Orzammar, I have but one question: WTF is going on?! Can anyone answer this?").
With DA2, my initial experience felt disjointed until I made the decision to stop thinking of myself as the actor playing Hawke and start thinking of myself as the person who is deciding which version of Hawke's story is being told. Hawke became an actor separate from myself and that actor had the freedom to engage in method acting, creating her own spoken dialogue based on my direction. Of course, the script is bounded but, as the director, I am choosing which order to do certain quests and I am directing Hawke to engage with the other characters in certain ways. I feel less in control of the outcome but, for me, becoming the director/writer was incredibly freeing and it made the story's natural limitations into assets rather than deficits. As a result, I ended up enjoying not only the story that was presented on the screen but all of the spaces in between.
Directors and writers always need to cut out far more story than they can tell. Thus, the gaps in between scenes and the juxtaposition of one scene's ending and the next scene beginning have meaning (Scott McCloud's first book on the language of comics talks a lot about this).
DA2's structure made me conscious of the gaps. The game's narrative is set up as a framed story told by Varric, there are three acts separated by multiple years over the course of a decade, each character in the game has an independent life of his/her own that is separate from Hawke's life. When I put myself in the role of the director/writer, those gaps took on lives of their own. The gaps required me (the director/writer) to fill in what happened in order to get Hawke from point A to point F, when points B-E are not shown on screen. Had I been the actor, the whole business of filling in the gaps would have felt like missing script. As director/writer, it is the norm to fill in gaps that are either going to end up on the cutting room floor, summarized in two words or one gesture, or woven in quietly as subtext. Playing the game made me think about the gaps while feeling (mostly) satisfied with the game's scripted story, limitations and all.
There is a lot more about the above that I want to say once I formulate my thoughts. Until then, I want to say something about filling in gaps and fanfic and how the "evolving fanfic sketches inside my head" effected my DA2 gameplay.
DA2 appeals to me far more for canon-friendly fanfic than DA:O. Don't get me wrong, DA:O is an amazing game for inspiring fanfic (or RPing) because the world is so huge, there are many different outcomes as choices are made, etc. etc. But unless the fic writer is writing backstory, post-game story, explorations of minor characters, "what if" alternate-canon stories, or interesting in-game vignettes, I feel like so much of DA:O's story of the Warden and his/her companions is successfully told in game. The missing scenes can be very interesting --- I have drafted many myself --- but I often wonder how much those missing scenes really add unless the fanfic writer is having a really deep insight or they have written the scene in a very beautiful/satisfying manner. Obviously, you can disregard this paragraph completely by saying "but this isn't why I write fanfic." That's fine. The point that I'm trying to make is the gaps in DA:O feel very different from the gaps in DA2 and those differences change the way that we read and extend those stories.
Here's the difference: when thinking about canon-friendly fanfic for DA:O, I feel limited to that which is possible in canon, whereas in DA2 I feel that it can include anything that is probable in canon, be it vaguely probable or highly probable. Obviously, fic doesn't need to be canon-friendly. I love what-ifs, alternate canon, back-story, post-game story, etc., but having all of those gaps in DA2 strikes me as very freeing when thinking about what could be happening during all of those empty spaces between the scenes.
Even without writing fanfic, I found myself doing this naturally while I was playing DA2 or, more likely, in between play sessions. Some of the obvious gaps/questions raised in my path through the gameplay include:
- If my particular Hawke loves and respects Anders so very much, what motivated her to decisively turn down his desire to start a romance during the middle of Act 2 and how did this play out between them during the rest of Act 2 after she said "no"?
- Despite my Hawke's 100% approval friendship with Aveline, what motivates the underlying almost-adversarial subtext between them? How does Aveline's dedication to Kirkwall's City Guard color her relationship with Hawke?
- Why didn't Thrask ever tell Hawke what he was doing? Why? Why?
- What is *everyone* doing off stage during all of those days, months, and years that are not part of the game, including the times that are part of the game but that character is off doing his/her own thing?
Not only do I find myself *more* engaged with a story when searching for answers to those questions, these kinds of questions make it more obvious that DA2's story is set up to allow gaps to filled in pretty much how ever the player (as writer/director) wishes within the larger framework of canon. Was Hawke the socialite of Hightown or did Hawke attempt to avoid the nobility like the plague? Did Hawke spend a lot of time off screen managing business operations at the mine? What relationships did Hawke have that Varric didn't include in the story? Who did Hawke meet with for dinner, or for drinks, or for a game of cards, or an outing along the coast?
By the middle of Act 2, I started giving my Hawke an off-screen sense of being that wasn't being shown on screen. And, in doing so, it became much easier for me (the director/writer) to give direction to Hawke. By taking a little bit of time to fill in gaps, think about the various characters on stage, think about how those characters related to Hawke and vise versa, I started building probable head canon that drove Hawke's motivation. From there on in, my in-game choices felt much more satisfying and purposeful.
Thus, as director/writer, I had sketched out a 'canon-probable Hawke' -- a Hawke who probabilistically could have existed in Kirkwall -- and as director/writer, I asked actor-Hawke to say lines and makes choices that fit my sketch of a 'probable Hawke.' That sketch includes many scenes that only exist inside my head, some of which are not very predictable, at least when I judge predictability based on a few conversations with other players and the fact that certain chunks of my headcanon are highly underrepresented / missing in fanfic.
This stands in contrast to my 'canon-possible Warden' -- a warden who followed one possible canon path through DA:O game -- and as the actor who was creating motivations and backstory for this warden, I had to search for dialogue lines and actions that felt in character (and IC responses were not always available). The extra scenes that exist inside my head are predictable for the character I played (again, judging from fanfic I've read and conversations I have had with other players).
...
So, I'm not sure where all of the above is going, but I have noticed that much of the fandom hate for DA2 is due to players feeling like Hawke doesn't have a sense of agency: shit happens and Hawke cannot do anything to change/save the world.
This wasn't a problem for me. In fact, I loved what DA2 did to the classic RPG PC-protagonist. But, at least for me, there was something about Hawke's story constraints that were also incredibly freeing. Even when I do find the occasional bits of fanfic that fill in probabilistic gaps the same way I did, the emotions and motivations they are portraying on the page often feel different from my (head)canon Hawke. I find this really interesting because Hawke is not a blank slate at all, and nowhere near as much of a blank slate as the Warden.