The Marriage of the Analogon and the Code in Video Games Christopher Woodill The nature of the photographic image is more important to us than it has ever been before. With the proliferation of various media based in the manipulation, display and recording of images, it is important to understand the relationship between the viewer and the image. What is the content of a viewed image, and how is that content shared with the viewer? It is sometimes difficult to tell as we see thousands of images flashing before us daily. In the 1960's, Roland Barthes put forth an analysis of the photographic image, describing the relationship between the photographic image and the viewer, and how that differed from other forms of images. His main thrust was to propose that the photographic image was different than an artwork because it was not a representation of an object but a perfect "analogon". The analogon is different than a representation in that it is not mediated by a iconic code. The idea was that the image in both film and photography was an exact copy of the object it was portrarying. What is important for our discussion is what the difference that Barthes wants to illustrate between something that is photographed and something illustrated by other means: for a photograph, the image does not stand for the real object, it portrays it as it comes through to us in the same as normal vision. Many critics, notably Umberto Eco and Victor Burgin, have come forward to criticize Barthes' notion of an analogon. Their argument is that there cannot be such a thing as a perfect analogon for all images are mediated by a code: The theory of the photo as an analogue of reality has been abandoned, even by those who once upheld it - we know that it is necessary to be trained to recognise the photographic image. We know tha tthe image which takes shape on celluloid is analogous to the retinal image, but not to that which we perceive. We know that sensory phenomina are transcribed, in the photograph emulsion, in such a way that even if there is a causal link with the real phenomena, the graphic images formed can be considered as wholly arbitrary with respect to these phenomina....every image is born of a series of successive transcriptions. The image, and everything else, is mediated by a code. The idea that we can look out and see a visual analogon is misguided, because, claims Eco, we actually are reading a system of iconic codes. In the world of the 1960's, the image was beginning to be manipulated. Barthes writes about various techniques that cut, crop, or otherwise change the objective reality of the analogon. But in the 1990's, the debate is not as simple. The photographic image has become more and less than a simple window on reality, more in the sense that it has been reproduced and contextually enlarged and less in the sense that the image has lost its wholeness as it has been subjected to cropping, appropriation, and disection. The issue of whether Barthes or Eco is right has lossed in this confusion of the image, as it becomes more and more obvious that both the idea of the analogon and the idea of the coded image are somehow both needed in the understanding of the modern use of the image. One of the areas in which this is apparent is in the world of video games. Video games are one of the most pervasive forms of entertainment in the North American world. Nintendo has become a common word for children around the globe. Furthermore, video games (along with pornography) are the leaders in multi-media technology. For the semiotician, video games represent a unique combining of cinematic analogon and a system of codes founded in game-play. By examining video games, we can see that there is room for both the code and the analogon, for both play an important role in the operation of video games. The video game industry was established in the late 1970's, even before personal computers were appearing. The first video game for the home was entitled Pong, and it consisted of a bar of light at each end of the television screen which represented paddles, and a rectangular blip of light which represented a ball. The object was to keep the "ball" in place by bouncing off one's "paddle". There was nothing else to the game: it had no bells or whistles, and it became quickly boring. What is important about Pong in our discussion is that video games really started as games, and had no sense of simulation. The objects on the screen were no more than markers for a particular system of rules, in the same way that a set of chess men mark out a system of playing chess. The objects could look totally different and their roles would be totally unaffected. The only connection they had to ordinary reality was movement, and even that was limited to moving up or down. Even the "ball" had little simulation value: it did not operate like a ball at all in that it only bounced in ninety degree angles. In our example above, there is no role for the analogon to play. The image on the screen is merely a demarkation of a system of rules, an "iconic code". The shapes on the screen do not depict anything: they are quite arbitrary. An example of this arbitrariness is a later development of the Pong concept, called Breakout, where instead of two paddles there was only one, at the bottom of the screen. The rest of the screen was filled with different coloured blocks which had to be hit by bouncing the ball with the paddle. These blocks had no meaning: they did not simulate anything. They merely acted as visual system of markings, similar to more conventional games such as checkers, tic-tac-toe, or bingo. The idea of iconic codes reigns without contest in the era of Pong because the computer technology at the time did not have the power to simulate reality. It would not be for several years that even an attempt would be made, and it is only recently has the analogon had even a fighting chance in the video game world. If video games had stayed at the level of Pong, they would have died quickly. Soon after, the dawn of a new type of video game, the simulation, appeared. A simulation was a system of code which modeled reality, in the same way that a mathematical equation might model a physical phenomina like gravity. Again, the image plays a different role than the photograph in that its job was not to depict reality but to model it. The image that appeared on the screen was a metaphorical picture, made of objects on the screen which represented the objects being simulated. Some of the first examples of this type of game were simulations of various sports such as baseball or football, as well as combat scenarios. It was this stage which really created the drive behind video game production, because what had been created was the ability to create a context. Instead of meaningless blips the images became characters in a fictional context. Although one would not call them analogons, one could begin to see iconic resemblances between the images and simulated objects: people started to look like people, airplanes began to appear as airplanes, and so on. Although there was little ability to present anything that captured reality in the sense of Barthes' analogon, the motivation for that goal was evolving. One of the great booms in video game production for the home came with the Atari 2600, which came out in 1982. This was the first ever Nintendo type system, and with different cartridges one could have a supply of several hundred video games in the comfort of your own home. With this increased market, there was increasing needs for differences between games: in order to sell more than a few video games to the public, one had to convince them that the latest issue of Space Turkeys was different than the last one. If we were restricted to the days of Pong, there was an extremely limited number of symbols to be arranged. The increase in technology in the form of better graphics created a vast of array of symbols, of a more complex code. An example of this was the introduction of colour: if we think of baseball, the identification of two teams by colour greatly improves the playability. With Pong, the only value that the symbols had was in the play of the game, for they were only ordinary rectangles. But with these new video games, they had the capacity to have their own identity seperate from the context of playing the game. One of the greatest examples of this was Pac-Man. Pac-Man evolved as a mass phenomenon which would not be duplicated until the arrival of Nintendo's Mario Brothers. As illustrated by Figure 2, Pac- man was little more than a circle with a piece of it cut out, but that shape began to have an identity when the shape became a head with a mouth, eating up everything in sight. The Pac-Man image is not an analogon: it is completely fabricated from geometric shapes. But it is iconic in that it represents the human face, albeit distorted and simplified. If one has ever played Pac-Man, one realizes that the shape really has no use in terms of game play except as a marker for the position on a board (the maze). The pac-man could have been left a block, and the game would play exactly the same way. But having a Pac-Man created a character that could be expanded outside of the game, in order to give the game a context. It would be the same as if we took the common game of checkers and gave each peice character names, and mourned their death when they were taken off the board. Pac-Man became a hit because of its playability, but also because of image considerations such as colour (it was one of the first to be in colour), design and context. While Pong was based in a faceless world, Pac-Mac created a character in a fantastic world. As Pac-Man became more popular, there were added new characters to the Pac-Man family, included baby-Pac-Man and Ms. Pac-Man. The only difference between these new games and the original Pac- Man was a new playing board (the mazes were different), and minimal changes to the character (The only difference between Ms. Pac-Mac and Pac-Man was that she had a bow on her head). At the time, this was enough to keep the Pac-Man empire strong, as people who had been exhausted from playing the original would come back and play a slightly revised version. Pac-Man was limited to four movements: up, down, left and right. It was a game that had almost no frills, except that it had a funny shaped playing piece which led to an enormous merchandising run resulting in Pac-Man breakfast cerial, a Pac-Man cartoon, a roller skating song called Pac-Man fever, and Pac-Man underware. What started with Ms. Pac-Man, and will become important in our discussion of the analogon later on, was the introduction of scenes which acted as a reward system for achieving various goals in the game. After completing three stages, the screen displayed a scene where Ms. Pac-Man and Pac-Man met and kissed. This scene had nothing to do with actual game play, and served only to reward the player by giving him a context, narrative, and scene played out before him. The scenes were little more than simple cartoons. This is where the analogon would be introduced, as a cinematic reward system for successful game play. While Pac-Man was really an overly complicated version of a board game, it was the simulation that began to bring reality into the world of video games. A simulation, as defined by Baudrillard, is a hyper-real activity, where one is so seduced by the simulation that one cannot tell the difference between the real and the imaginary. In the early 1980's (which was incidentally when he first wrote Simulations), such a definition would not properly describe video game simulations nor would it today. A simulation, in computer terms, is a computer program that modelled reality. The technology has never yet been able to simulate anything well enough to mimic reality to any degree of fooling people into thinking they are actually in a different world. One example of a simulation is the car-racing type video game. One of the first was entitled Pole-Position. Like all car-racing games, poll-position came equipped with a steering wheel, gas pedal, break pedal, and a gear shift. This introduction of a new interface helped to create the simulation effect with real objects: you drove the fictional car with a real steering wheel. Certainly, the simulation would not have been as successful had one had to drive the car with cursor keys or a joystick. The object of the game was to complete the course before time ran out and without crashing. What is different about Pole-position from Pong was that the game modelled reality, or at least modelled a cinematic reality. For the first time, perspective was introduced, and the road curved over the horizon hopefully in a similar manner to regular driving, and cars would periodically come from behind the horizon into the field of view. Like most video games, as we shall see when talk of recent video games, the pole-position concept has been improved over the course of about ten years, but the basic modelling processing remains the same. We shall take up this example again when we talk of the cinematization of video games. When one talks of the use of the analogon in video games, one notices it in two different ways, as either part of the actual game play, or as a reward system which acts outside the game. In today's video-games, both are used. The analogon here means a particular image or set of images that form a unique and perfect transcription of reality. While Pac-Man was almost totally non- contextual, mainly because the technology at the time could not effectively fabricate a context, the latest video games take place in a particular time and place, in a highly specific context. The characters in these latest video games have specific personalities, and exhibit those different styles on screen. Only with an imaging system created not by a code but by a cinematic analogon can we achieve this level of realism. One must remember that the code has not departed: the game still is the basis of all video games. The cinematic analogon acts to create the reality of the game, but does not change its purpose. The whole style of the game shifts from one of interacting with markers on a game-board to interacting with a movie. If we return to our example of car-racing games, the game now takes on the feel of an interactive movie. The simulation is of a high enough quality that it feels real, and the images on the screen support this feel. In the latest version of the car-racing concept, one drives through various "scenes", and part of the enjoyment of the game is in watching out for scenery. On the sides of the road are beaches, rocks, farms, and so on all of which are simulated: they all look real. These scenes are extraneous to the game, but they occur simultaneously as game- play, an instant feedback reward. One of the most controversial video-games on the market is entitled Mortal Kombat II (even the name is frightening). What makes it controversial is that while a car-racing video game simulates the activity of driving a car (a relatively peaceful endevour, providing one doesn't crash), Mortal Kombat II simulates a martial arts style combat to the death. What makes Mortal Kombat II interesting in our discussion of the use of the analogon is that it uses the cinematic analogon both as part of the action of the game-play and as a reward system for winning. In Mortal Kombat II, there are several different characters to choose from, each of which have their own particular look, style and strengths. The differences create a relationship between the visual and the code. There are differences in the codes of each characters in that a combination of buttons and movements of a joystick produce different results. But there are also differents in the analogon: once the code has been entered, than the analogon takes over, displaying instantly the result of the code, a couple seconds of scene which results in the players character punching, kicking or jumping over his or her opponent. This analogon is real enough to simulate even the unwanted parts of violence: the character on the screen becomes bruised, beaten and bleeds all over the floor when attacked successfully. After winning a round, Mortal Kombat II gives you a bonus scene: the ability to watch your character slaughter your opponent. Each character has a different killing style: one kills by ripping his opponents arms out of their sockets, another turns into a dragon and chomps his opponents head off. What keeps people coming back is the constant search for new cinematic analogons, for new scenes. If one has mastered one character's killing move, there are still several other characters who each have new scenes. At fifty cents an attempt, one can see the marketing genius in this. Furthermore, as one reaches higher levels in the game, one gets the priviledge of competing against brand new opponents; in other words, we get to view new scenes. One of the most telling examples of this new dominance of the analogon is that people spend almost as much time watching others play video games as they do playing them. Because of this new enjoyment of the image, one needs only to watch others play in order to get the thrill of discovery, to receive the entertainment of seeing new scenes. Conversely, the game-play has to remain fast and efficient: if the analogon displaces the code, than no one will play. Playability has not ceased to be a factor, it has just been joined with the seduction by the analogon. In new video games, one gets the speed, control, and excitement of the old style video game, but also receives a reward for playing in the form of a cinematic analogon. Some video games are strictly excuses for buying the cinematic analogon. They act as gambling centres where the prize is a few seconds of a scene. One example of this is Laser-Strip Poker. The game is absolutely trivial: a banal version of poker. What is really important is the reward for winning: a continuation of a scene played by a laser disc of a person stripping. What is revealing is that when one loses, the laser- disc just plays backwards, so that the dress flies from the ground back onto the woman. What one is purchasing is not the pleasure of the game: the game only acts as a system of bringing in revenue. In order to get the woman completely stripped it takes about five or six dollars worth of quarters. The game is a complete tease: while one can make the person on the screen to take off some of the clothes with promises for more, everytime you make an error (which when playing a chance game like poker is quite often), she puts a piece of clothing back on. Thus, in order to see the entire scene, one must consistently win, which is incredibly difficult. One of the more recent marketing schemes is what I call the three round elimination. There seems to be a delicate balance between winning and losing: if one loses in the first round, one feels ripped off. Furthermore, one does not get an accurate assessment of how the game plays: without a few minutes to try to grasp the rules of the game, the video-game will just be frustrating. What video game manufacturers seem to have done is design the game in such a way that there is a practice round at the beginning of each game (three rounds). If we take our example of Mortal Kombat II, the video game gives you almost exactly three rounds of play to get used to the game. After you reach that third round, the difficulty increases enormously, usually ending your game. This of course is a brilliant use of the analogon: it is used in the same way that a movie preview is used. In order to get the past the preview, you have to keep sinking in increasingly more money. The first three rounds give you an analogon teaser, enough so that you want to see the rest of the scenes. In the future, the cinematic analogon will be replaced with a virtual one. However, the same type of system will probably remain. Remember, the key to marketing video games is to keep charging tolls for going father, so that each step of the way is a contest to see more of the scene. The same will be true for commercial virtual reality: one will begin to see virtual reality versions of Mortal Kombat II, where in order to see the final scene one will have to win a contest first. The idea of a free- flowing world where one can explore with no limits is a myth that will die when virtual reality becomes commercially viable. The only way to keep making profits is to restrict the flow of information. On the other hand, it is also the only way of keeping the game player interested. One has to build in the drama into the game so that the player wants to keep coming back. Many games now actually have an ending: the final scene is played, and than the credits roll up. To get to the end is a sweet victory for the player, but it is also a dissappointment because the contest is now over. In the world of video games, the analogon serves as the basis for entertainment. It has not always been that way, and the video game "tradition" must always be kept in mind when understanding how people interact with video games today. Even though the analogon is what is being sold, it is still sold through the medium of a coded system of rules similar to a game. Even with the latest video games, which feature movie quality and stereo CD sound, they still are dependent on the game mechanism: without a good game behind it, the video aspect will not sell. Unlike the cinema, the drama is built into the competition and the interaction, not into the analogon itself. The analogon serves as a reward for a few minutes work. The suspense is actively in you: it is not displayed for you, but you live it as you are playing. This is what makes interactive media so promising: if we can make the suspense built into the interaction, than it is the person playing with the medium who resolves it, not the image on the screen. The analogon then serves as a true world-creator, but the interaction through the game allows the user to become part of the drama. Notes