One of my favorite personalities in video-game journalism recently made the jump from editorial to development. While I’m more than happy that such an intelligent mind has the chance to finally exercise its creativity and knowledge on the other side of the industry, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t saddened by the fact that I would no longer read any of his articles or sit in on any of his enjoyable podcasts. The journalist in question is Shawn Elliott, and he will now be working at 2K Boston alongside Ken Levine, the acclaimed creator of the critically and commercially successful game BioShock.
I suppose it might seem amateur of me to praise a journalist in my own column, but I find it difficult to acknowledge my integrity as a writer without expressing a bit of hero worship for Elliott.
While I admit that I’m more a fan of his radio personality than his writing, I’ve always been enamored with his intellect, the common link between these two aspects of the enthusiast press. Elliott’s analysis of design in popular games has always been a subject of fascination for me, and, to be honest, a lot of my own critiques regarding the topic of gaming in general can be attributed to him.
Unlike many other journalists in the industry, Elliott has a knack for identifying design flaws in seemingly perfect games. Most recently, when Metal Gear Solid 4 was finally released and many gaming outlets were praising the accomplishments of the much-anticipated title, Elliott was one of few who acknowledged the ambitions of creator Hideo Kojima and criticized his failures, specifically in the conflict between Kojima’s desire to philosophically explore the interactivity between player and game (or person and the machine) and his desire to create an experience that is both enjoyable and appeasing to the mass public.
His brutally honest criticism of the title helped me break down my own bias for the franchise and begin to laugh at the often ridiculous design elements that were illuminated by his insight.
What Elliott consistently did for me was question the significance of a video game. As gamers, we’re living in an age where creativity in high-production games is floundering and where independent gaming is allowing creative individuals to manipulate cliched gaming conceits. As such, more and more games are clearly pushing boundaries and challenging players to think beyond the controller. Look no further than independent gaming posterboy Braid to understand exactly what I mean. By analyzing a game like Braid, questioning the intent of the creator and treating any given title as a legitimate form of art, Elliott taught me to look beyond the status quo of video games and appreciate subtleties that separate the good games from the great.
In hindsight, I suppose Elliott was better suited for development than journalism. While his acute ability to mock ridiculous notions of gaming, technical or cultural, provided a great source of enjoyment for the reader, his keen sense of design wasn’t suited for the enthusiast press. While I’ll truly miss his weekly antics on the GFW Radio Podcast, I certainly look forward to the game he’ll develop with Levine, a title I imagine will be a topic of great discussion come the next several years.
As I sit here and write this tribute to a personal hero who’s helped me more fully appreciate the games I’ve come to love, I can only wonder if others have ever put the same sense of significance on the games they play as I have. As a story-telling medium, I’ve been touched, enlightened and humored by the games that reach my fingertips, and as a platform of pleasure, I’ve been gratified in more ways by video games than anything else I’ve come in conact with (you best believe it).
So, as I finish up my little love letter, I ask you a question that Elliot first inspired me to ask myself: What meaning do games have for you? What elements of a game make it fun, and why are they important? What compels you to boot up a game and just sit there and play?
