Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Interface Screenshot
The law-breaking aspect of freedom is illustrated in these screenshots of the epic violence that takes place in the game. Also visible is the interface at varied points in the game, with some players closer to reaching their limitations than others.
The controversial video game entitled Grand Theft Auto has an interface that explicitly lays the groundwork for the basic ideological structure of the game, one that is centered on the competing notions of control and freedom. Lev Manovich, in his essay theorizing interfaces, introduces the notion that interfaces, although seemingly freeing in the way that they serve as a window for the user to explore virtual worlds, are ultimately imprisoning and lead to control. This leads to the overall subordination of the user to the interface. Although Manovich’s arguments are based on the computer interface, they apply strongly to the interfaces of video games, as well. Manovich also discusses how interfaces are the ultimate form of remediation, or the reuse, reworking, and convergence of previous mass media. Grand Theft Auto’s interface is interesting in the fact that it draws on all of Manovich’s assumptions. Even though the remediated game is based in breaking the law and being ultimately free, the interface reveals that behind this illusion of freedom is a reality of imprisonment and control.
Grand Theft Auto is a game in which the ultimate goal is to obtain criminal power through breaking the law. There is not much else you can do, as in this virtual world, it is the law to break the law. This gives the user the ultimate sense of freedom: you can professedly do whatever you want whenever you want. Killing a police officer, extorting money, and stealing cars are all available actions that are seemingly encouraged by the game. However, as Grand Theft Auto’s interface suggests, there are clear limitations set by the game which tie in with Manovich’s conclusions of control.
The interface is rather clustered. Looking at a screenshot of the game reveals the actual imprisonment that is present while playing. The main focus of the interface is the view of the eyes of the main character. This view is essentially a remediation of cinema. It is as if the player is watching a film that he or she is creating, or that he or she is in control of. However, as with other aspects of the game, this cinematic aspect is limited. One cannot look everywhere and it is impossible to venture out of the coded path that is laid down by the game’s creators. Around this main view are many widgets to keep you updated on your location and game status. In the bottom left, there is a map of the city. This city, however, has distinct limits. Do not try to surpass these boundaries or you will be virtually shot and killed in the game immediately. Furthermore, the city’s limits can be witnessed in the forms of the buildings: the character is not free to enter all of them, in fact he is only allowed to enter very few. The other ones are simply walls that one can only stand beside. In the upper right hand corner, there are icons depicting your health, your monetary status, your arsenal, and your “wanted level,” a scale of one to six “stars” which tells you how intensely the police are searching for you. All of these widgets are depicted using text and images, thus converging previous mass media to support Manovich’s discussion of remediation. The icons essentially trounce any feeling of freedom in the game. There are immense limitations on your actions, inasmuch as when these essentials run out, which they tend to do rather easily, the player is left dead or stuck. It is as if the icons are in place to remind the user of the boundaries that the interface has set up for them. Thus, the interface in this video game serves as the blatant control mechanism.
To succeed, an interface must cover up the notion of control. Users are drawn to aesthetically pleasing interfaces because it grants them a sense of liberation, rather than the sense of control exhibited by new media as a whole. Grand Theft Auto’s interface accomplishes just this, clearly gives a notion of absolute freedom to many users, but to the trained eye, the interface is an unambiguous orchestration of control. It is control of the mind and the body in the sense that there are immense limitations set on gameplay. Manovich explains this deeper control, as well, as he discusses the notion of bodily imprisonment through the interface. The theorist claims that the “imprisonment of the subject also happens in a literal sense,” or that even though the brain senses freedom, the body never truly moves or frees itself (Manovich 105). Grand Theft Auto’s interface is exemplary of this imprisonment, seeing that the subject need not move from his chair to see this interface and explore its possibilities.
Grand Theft Auto’s interface is a clear remediation of cinema with added objects that all contribute to its overall subject control. Although the interface has the capability to be pushed rather far (this is what gives the subject the overall illusion of freedom), it is impossible to create an interface that lacks the aspect of control. Lev Manovich’s argument that perspectival machines, anything that creates an illusion of a deep image, create imprisonment upon use is viable in the sense of all new media interfaces. These interfaces serve to cover up the inner workings of the perspectival machine and thus pull a blind over the user’s eyes. The illusionistic image that ensues is what causes the aspect of control discussed by Manovich. This lack of freedom and rise of illusion and subordination is exemplified by the crowded interface present in the Grand Theft Auto series.
(946 words)
Grand Theft Auto is a game in which the ultimate goal is to obtain criminal power through breaking the law. There is not much else you can do, as in this virtual world, it is the law to break the law. This gives the user the ultimate sense of freedom: you can professedly do whatever you want whenever you want. Killing a police officer, extorting money, and stealing cars are all available actions that are seemingly encouraged by the game. However, as Grand Theft Auto’s interface suggests, there are clear limitations set by the game which tie in with Manovich’s conclusions of control.
The interface is rather clustered. Looking at a screenshot of the game reveals the actual imprisonment that is present while playing. The main focus of the interface is the view of the eyes of the main character. This view is essentially a remediation of cinema. It is as if the player is watching a film that he or she is creating, or that he or she is in control of. However, as with other aspects of the game, this cinematic aspect is limited. One cannot look everywhere and it is impossible to venture out of the coded path that is laid down by the game’s creators. Around this main view are many widgets to keep you updated on your location and game status. In the bottom left, there is a map of the city. This city, however, has distinct limits. Do not try to surpass these boundaries or you will be virtually shot and killed in the game immediately. Furthermore, the city’s limits can be witnessed in the forms of the buildings: the character is not free to enter all of them, in fact he is only allowed to enter very few. The other ones are simply walls that one can only stand beside. In the upper right hand corner, there are icons depicting your health, your monetary status, your arsenal, and your “wanted level,” a scale of one to six “stars” which tells you how intensely the police are searching for you. All of these widgets are depicted using text and images, thus converging previous mass media to support Manovich’s discussion of remediation. The icons essentially trounce any feeling of freedom in the game. There are immense limitations on your actions, inasmuch as when these essentials run out, which they tend to do rather easily, the player is left dead or stuck. It is as if the icons are in place to remind the user of the boundaries that the interface has set up for them. Thus, the interface in this video game serves as the blatant control mechanism.
To succeed, an interface must cover up the notion of control. Users are drawn to aesthetically pleasing interfaces because it grants them a sense of liberation, rather than the sense of control exhibited by new media as a whole. Grand Theft Auto’s interface accomplishes just this, clearly gives a notion of absolute freedom to many users, but to the trained eye, the interface is an unambiguous orchestration of control. It is control of the mind and the body in the sense that there are immense limitations set on gameplay. Manovich explains this deeper control, as well, as he discusses the notion of bodily imprisonment through the interface. The theorist claims that the “imprisonment of the subject also happens in a literal sense,” or that even though the brain senses freedom, the body never truly moves or frees itself (Manovich 105). Grand Theft Auto’s interface is exemplary of this imprisonment, seeing that the subject need not move from his chair to see this interface and explore its possibilities.
Grand Theft Auto’s interface is a clear remediation of cinema with added objects that all contribute to its overall subject control. Although the interface has the capability to be pushed rather far (this is what gives the subject the overall illusion of freedom), it is impossible to create an interface that lacks the aspect of control. Lev Manovich’s argument that perspectival machines, anything that creates an illusion of a deep image, create imprisonment upon use is viable in the sense of all new media interfaces. These interfaces serve to cover up the inner workings of the perspectival machine and thus pull a blind over the user’s eyes. The illusionistic image that ensues is what causes the aspect of control discussed by Manovich. This lack of freedom and rise of illusion and subordination is exemplified by the crowded interface present in the Grand Theft Auto series.
(946 words)
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