Hayao Miyazaki might be my favourite film director. I'm a big fan of actual "film" directors too, like Scorsese and P.T. Anderson, but there's something about Miyazaki that makes each one of his films feel like a full-course meal. Any Miyazaki movie can rank right up there with the greatest films ever made and it's because of his uncompromising nature. Sure, he might make "children's" films, but, like the greatest of artists, his work completely transcends both traditional genre and demographic appeal. His films belie a mature approach to storytelling that's uncommon even amongst Oscar-caliber films – Spirited Away has more emotional depth than almost any of the films nominated for Best Picture this year.

When I talk about what games could learn from Miyazaki films, I'm not saying that games should necessarily be like the recently-released (in Japan) DS game Ni no Kuni, which is a collaboration between Level-5 and Studio Ghibli. From all indications, that game appears to be a pretty standard JRPG, albeit one that's set in an absolutely magical Ghibli world. I think that all game developers could learn about the fundamentals of stellar storytelling and character development, as well as making an accessible experience that doesn't pander to its audience.

1. Don't skimp on the details

Part of what makes a Miyazaki film feel alive is his astounding attention to visual detail. Miyazaki has spent months simply studying children and the way they interact with each other and move, and this attention to detail has shown in films like Ponyo, My Neighbour Totoro, and Spirited Away. Throwaway details like a bottle at the bottom of a river that go unmentioned, but assist in the development of the theme, are terrific as well. Games are generally big-budget and have to go through pretty rushed development cycles, so this attention to visual detail can sometimes be washed over by the need to provide spectacle. There's only a few games that I can think of that provide more than is necessary (or more than just the big "wow" moments) in the visual department – Okami, for instance, and a few others.

If Miyazaki's films were just feasts for the eyes, though, they'd be considerably less effective than they are. Where his attention to detail shines is in the characterization. There's no living director who has such big audience expectations to meet who still provides as much subtle characterization as Miyazaki does. Even in something as silly as The Castle of Cagliostro, you learn about the characters and their backstories in a completely unobtrusive way – through the way they act. This should be paramount in a game's storytelling. Don't give me pages and pages of a datalog or a journal that I'm not likely to read; show me why I should care about these characters by providing them with a robust and detailed way of behaving.

2. There's nothing wrong with joy

If I see one more monochrome, gritty, futuristic first-person shooter, I might just rip my own eyes out. Possibly the best and most magical part of any Miyazaki movie (even the gritty ones like Nausicaa or Princess Mononoke) is the sheer wonder of the whole thing. Besides Mononoke, every one of his movies features an incredible flying sequence. The colour palette and the wondrous nature of the proceedings (Miyazaki frequently uses elements of Japanese folklore and myth as well as elements that jump straight from his imaginative little head) makes every one of his movies an exercise in the joy of animation. As most videogames (besides FMV games, which haven't been popular in over a decade) are a form of animation, it's depressing that there's so few games that integrate joy into their proceedings. There are exceptions, of course (Super Mario Galaxy being one of them), and sometimes a game does need a depressing setting to convey its themes, but this is something we need more of.

3. Quasi-realism is dead to me

Don't pretend like what you're putting on screen is an accurate representation of real-life. It's not. Heavy Rain is as much fantasy as Zelda is; Zelda's just more upfront about it. Miyazaki plays with the fantastic in an incredible way. Why is the main character in Porco Rosso a pig? Why not? Why is Howl's castle a bipedal building? Because it's fantasy, that's why.

 

While Miyazaki's visual style is somewhat ornate, he includes enough elements of the unreal that make it certain why he chose animation as his medium of choice. Videogames are a form of interactive animation and are also therefore a medium of choice. I can't fathom why someone would choose to portray something in a completely realistic way in a medium that values the fanastical. Sure, there are some games like Mass Effect 2 that use realistic human forms in conjunction with things that couldn't be done in, say, a film, but this is pretty similar to any Hollywood blockbuster. They're half-human half-animation anyways. The problem with a game like ME2 is that the humans look less real than the fantastical things because the whole thing is animated (this was a problem with early 3D animated films, too). Why not choose an artistic sensibility that renders all elements of your world fantastic? I'll never understand that (even though ME2 is a fantastic game, those dead doll eyes on the characters really bother me).

4. Strike a balance with the storytelling

Part of the problem with the most recent Final Fantasy game, from what I understand (having not played it yet) is that it heaps a bunch of complicated jargon onto the player to describe fairly simple concepts of the game world. Or on the other end of the spectrum, a game like The Conduit basically lays all of its cards on the table in the first two levels – you know exactly where that game is going from the moment you turn it on, and yet, it feels the need to hold your hand through the narrative. Miyazaki films could never be accused of this. They're complex and deep narratives, yet they're accessible enough that you can understand them without delving into the mythology. Another reason why they work is that they're both great stories on their own but have quite a bit of thematic heft and consequence. In other words, there's another, deeper layer of meaning beyond just telling a good story. Sometimes these themes are simple to understand but presented in a deep and thoughtful way (the environmentalism of Mononoke and Nausicaa; the exploration of the transition from childhood to adolescence in Kiki's Delivery Service) or the themes can be considerably more complex as in Spirited Away or Howl's Moving Castle. But you never feel lost, and the viewer comes away with a deeper understanding of the world. That's a tall order for any medium, but one that rarely happens in gaming (Cave Story is one; the aforementioned Okami is another).

5. Be uncompromising while delivering to a wide audience

I can't even imagine how tough this must be. Nintendo has been doing it for years, but most companies pick and choose which demographics they want to appeal to. While Miyazaki might be a somewhat niche taste in North America (as most foreign directors are), in Japan, his films appeal to everyone. Children (who his films are ostensibly for) love his films. Men and women equally love them too. And they're also loved by intellectuals, as they offer such meaty stories for analysis and consideration. They're both immensely popular and critically adored, and they're not exclusive to any one group. That's where I'd like to see gaming go – not in the direction of "hardcore"-izing every "major" franchise, and not in the direction of making things facile to the point of unimportance in the aim of appealing to all members of a family. Like I said, Nintendo has been doing this already. Mario games, for instance, are both complex enough for the people who obsess over them, and accessible enough for people of all ages. "Hardcore" gamers might cry foul, but what we need are quality games that can appeal to people because of their quality, and not because of other, ancillary reasons. If Miyazaki can do that with the "children's" medium of animation, videogame developers can do it with the "children's" medium of videogames.

 

 

 

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Matthew, it doesn't matter what you think because creepy no-face just ate you. Just kidding – great article!
Also, when Arden wants to creep me out, she makes the creepy no-face noises. It works.

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