Galloway spends this entire chapter talking about the importance of the camera angle. He details exactly how powerful the subjective shot can be, because it is capable of conveying so much more than just a visual. He says that these types of shots are perfect for FPS games because of the connection it establishes between the player and the environment. He’s definitely got me convinced, except for one thing– what about those videogames that allow the player to switch between camera angles? There’s typically a far-away angle where the entire character is visible, a behind-the-shoulders angle where the player is thrust up against the character’s shoulder and head, and a first-person angle.
For some games, this first-person angle would only be classified as a POV shot– it merely situates itself in the player’s place, showing things from their height. It has nothing of the intricacies that make it a perspective shot, where it conveys all the nuances of actually seeing. This is usually the case for adventure games, but some seem to enter into perspective shot territory. In some games, the camera shakes around when the character jumps, and becomes fuzzy when the character falls. If the character gets hit, the screen goes red and pulses.
So my question is this– if a perspective shot carries so much thought and meaning, what do they become in games that allow the player to switch between camera angles? The perspective angle is obviously not important to the story in those cases. Personally, I’ve never been fond of the first-person perspective, or even the over-the-shoulder one. I feel like I’m not “getting” everything if I can’t see the character– because the story revolves around this character, not around me. This brings up the question of story-telling in games and its relationship with camera angle, which seems similar to movies– it’s hard to tell a story in first-person POV, and requires a unique aspect of the story to make it work.
I think Brandi makes a good point here; the relationship between view and story is a connection that doesn’t at first seem obvious or important, but I think it’s just as influential to the game experience as more fundamental aspects of the gameplay such as controls or the plot itself.
A first person POV theoretically lends itself to identification with the character because you’re already mentally prepared to “become” that character, unlike in film where you know it’s just an actor that you temporarily inhabit. With games, the first person POV is intended to let you forget the fact that you’re really controlling a lump of jerkily animated pixels and get into the mentality of the character you’re supposed to BE. At least, I think so.
But then along comes the issue of being able to play fast and loose with your camera angles. I think it does affect the story, but this doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Personally, my experience is with racing games. All the old racing and driving games used strictly “3rd person” (behind the car), and so I was habituated from a young age. When newer games came along offering radically different in-car views I curiously tried them out and suddenly a whole new world opened before my eyes. Racing from behind the car made me feel like I was playing an arcade game, but suddenly with the in-car view it felt more realistic and challenging (well, once the graphics got better).
Like Brandi’s problem with Quake, though, the views in games are restrictive. But then in real life can you honestly claim 360 degree peripheral vision? Doesn’t the A-frame on your car block your view slightly to each side? Sure the first person POV isn’t The Perfect View to take in everything at once, but then neither is reality. I guess what I’m getting at is: is your goal to play a driving simulator or an arcade game? Whichever you choose, there’s a probably a view to help, and with that unique perspective will come a nuanced perception of the game world.
Etienne, I like how you bring us back to the real world, where in fact we deal with obstructed points of view all the time. (Beginning with the little thing called our nose that’s always in our vision, but which we learn to ignore.) I think you could link this back up to the idea of “chunking”—we always have an incomplete view of the world, and in most cases in our daily lives, our brains fill in the missing information, tricking us into seeing a “whole” view.