So. . . an idea, which I'll state quickly to avoid "TL;DR"-style responses.
In a lot of old games--say, in the eighties--technological flexibility had a major influence on how plotting and characterization functioned--Mario, for example, was given a mustache because a mouth would've been too onerous to animate. The same was true of gameplay: rather than being formalized, a lot of conceits arose simply as a matter of what the hardware could support, and how it could be most efficiently realized. Of course, conventions existed--platformers, at the time, were the dominant commercial genre on home consoles--but I would nonetheless argue that game design was more creative and amorphous (though not always "better", in the sense of being accessible) due to the climate of the industry with respect to commercialization as well as the hardware available.
What I think is dispiriting about a lot of games today--though by no means all--is that, rather than news technological modes being explored with the goal of maximizing their potential to simulate diverse gameplay styles, a lot of designers seem principally attracted to the idea of aping the characteristics of other, more commercially entrenched mediums--an obvious example being film, which in my opinion has had a decisive yet not always productive relationship with games in the 2000s. A Marxist critique of this might contend that as the video games industry becomes increasingly monopolized--and by the "video games industry" I am referring to the industrial process by which wages are dispensed and ownership shares calculated, not indie design--it is natural that capitalistic, linear narrative styles would ascend in their prevalence. The rise of a tidy sectionalism with respect to genres--today, there are maybe a dozen genres of games that dominate the mainstream, whereas you'd be hard-pressed to lump a lot of NES games into a single category, polymorphous as they often were--could be argued as a consequence of capital's infiltration, as well.
A valid intellectual movement in games for today, then, I think, would consist of rejecting the fetishism of film and conventional narrative that has characterized the likes of recent high-profile releases like Uncharted and Heavy Rain (a pseudo-artistic release, really), and instead trying to revive the more spontaneous, improvisational approach of the past, albeit in the context of modern technological application (a lot of early NES games almost resemble abstract impressionism). To cite an example: why a conventional narrative? Why not allow a game's narrative to arise organically through the spontaneous process of coding and designing it? Ultimately, the more game developers appeal to other, more historically commercialized, mediums in order to ostensibly legitimize their own creative endeavours, the more they're simply rehashing the mundane characteristics of art forms that have already been annexed by capital. Games have more potential than that, not less--look at the godawful state mainline theatres are in today.
In simple terms, what I'm suggesting is that gameplay and narrative not be elevated to a calculated plateau in which the developer firmly asserts their superiority towards the player; the finitude of the latter's experience. Designing a game should be like playing one: there should be noodling around, creative decision-making, a willingness to allow the medium to reveal its strengths rather than being totalistically harnessed, etc. As a brief aside, let me say that--for those who would say that such an approach would lead to thoughtless games--I would encourage you to reevaluate your own conceptions of thought, and to consider how they might be informed by the monetizing currents of our society. The "formal process" of art, as we know, is a mixed blessing--it must be applied, but should not overwhelm the artistry at hand. Too many games today--and I'm not trying to simply whine here, I deeply enjoy a lot of modern games--seem to have fallen into the latter category.
In a lot of old games--say, in the eighties--technological flexibility had a major influence on how plotting and characterization functioned--Mario, for example, was given a mustache because a mouth would've been too onerous to animate. The same was true of gameplay: rather than being formalized, a lot of conceits arose simply as a matter of what the hardware could support, and how it could be most efficiently realized. Of course, conventions existed--platformers, at the time, were the dominant commercial genre on home consoles--but I would nonetheless argue that game design was more creative and amorphous (though not always "better", in the sense of being accessible) due to the climate of the industry with respect to commercialization as well as the hardware available.
What I think is dispiriting about a lot of games today--though by no means all--is that, rather than news technological modes being explored with the goal of maximizing their potential to simulate diverse gameplay styles, a lot of designers seem principally attracted to the idea of aping the characteristics of other, more commercially entrenched mediums--an obvious example being film, which in my opinion has had a decisive yet not always productive relationship with games in the 2000s. A Marxist critique of this might contend that as the video games industry becomes increasingly monopolized--and by the "video games industry" I am referring to the industrial process by which wages are dispensed and ownership shares calculated, not indie design--it is natural that capitalistic, linear narrative styles would ascend in their prevalence. The rise of a tidy sectionalism with respect to genres--today, there are maybe a dozen genres of games that dominate the mainstream, whereas you'd be hard-pressed to lump a lot of NES games into a single category, polymorphous as they often were--could be argued as a consequence of capital's infiltration, as well.
A valid intellectual movement in games for today, then, I think, would consist of rejecting the fetishism of film and conventional narrative that has characterized the likes of recent high-profile releases like Uncharted and Heavy Rain (a pseudo-artistic release, really), and instead trying to revive the more spontaneous, improvisational approach of the past, albeit in the context of modern technological application (a lot of early NES games almost resemble abstract impressionism). To cite an example: why a conventional narrative? Why not allow a game's narrative to arise organically through the spontaneous process of coding and designing it? Ultimately, the more game developers appeal to other, more historically commercialized, mediums in order to ostensibly legitimize their own creative endeavours, the more they're simply rehashing the mundane characteristics of art forms that have already been annexed by capital. Games have more potential than that, not less--look at the godawful state mainline theatres are in today.
In simple terms, what I'm suggesting is that gameplay and narrative not be elevated to a calculated plateau in which the developer firmly asserts their superiority towards the player; the finitude of the latter's experience. Designing a game should be like playing one: there should be noodling around, creative decision-making, a willingness to allow the medium to reveal its strengths rather than being totalistically harnessed, etc. As a brief aside, let me say that--for those who would say that such an approach would lead to thoughtless games--I would encourage you to reevaluate your own conceptions of thought, and to consider how they might be informed by the monetizing currents of our society. The "formal process" of art, as we know, is a mixed blessing--it must be applied, but should not overwhelm the artistry at hand. Too many games today--and I'm not trying to simply whine here, I deeply enjoy a lot of modern games--seem to have fallen into the latter category.