Narrative and Games

What do you call a game that’s good for you, good for its genre, good for the gaming industry, and good for gaming technology, but isn’t a goodgame? Easy: Façade.

Theirs is a world very much like ours, in which every word, action, and even hesitation has myriad unforeseeable consequences that affect all that follows. This means that, though specifics may vary from session to session (thus making a traditional walkthrough useless), the overall shape of the experience is always similar; the player, then, cannot simply go through the motions, but must always work to effect a resolution of the central conflict.

That conflict concerns Grace and Trip, a married couple in meltdown mode. They’ve invited the player’s character, an old friend, to their posh apartment, but can barely stop arguing long enough to open the door. Though they initially put on a brave show of connubial bliss, it’s not long before each injects quarreling and indications into the conversation; it soon becomes clear that Grace and Trip have been lying to themselves and to each other, and that without the help of the clear-eyed (and ostensibly objective) player, one or both will soon choose to sever their relationship entirely.

The player’s toolkit is limited entirely to conversation. He or she may minimally manipulate objects or hug or comfort Grace or Trip, but there’s no real action to speak of. In all you say, you must be cognizant of not only how your words affect the Grace-Trip pairing, but also the emotional well-being of the individual character you’re speaking to or not speaking to. It’s a brilliant idea, one of the most detailed and considered representations of social intercourse yet seen for the personal computer. But as a narrative concept, it’s not inherently unworkable.