The next time you’re perusing the displayed wares in your local videogame store, seeking to secure that next invaluable slice of inspired escapism, hold back your eager hand for a moment, and check that pulsing urge for digital appeasement. Take a deep breath and absorb the titles before you as a whole; try to process their genre classification, and attempt to see numbers rather than words. And why? Because videogames are dull, because videogames are jaded, and because videogames are stagnant. The proof is irrefutable, and the numbers that you see, worrying as they are, do not lie.

At this year’s E3 expo in Los Angeles, the annual gaming shindig where everyone and their monkey clambers for due attention—be they exhibitors or attendees—Sony proudly unveiled an enviable list of incoming PSP (PlayStation Portable) videogame titles. Totalling a collective roll call of some 73 games, the future would initially appear rather rosy for those consumers who have already invested in Sony’s virgin foray into the handheld market. However, a closer inspection reveals a disturbing (cross platform) trend that has been gathering in intensity like an ink-black cloud of doom on gaming’s once glisteningly bright horizons. Franchise sequels and movie tie-ins inundate the PSP’s release lists; a veritable plague of dreary rehashes, statistical upgrades, and licensed dross, all working their diseased roots ever deeper into the parched soil of the gaming industry.

Of those 73 titles, an astounding 51 fall into the categories of established franchise, or licensed product. What has become of our haven of simple originality? Where is that divine spark of allure that first brought us all to gaming? What has changed?

No one except the monumentally ignorant can fail to see that videogames are a huge business. Perhaps it’s a bed of our own making in terms of gaming becoming such an influential strain of popular culture, but it seems eons ago that videogames looked as though they cost as much to develop as they did to buy. By comparison, today’s industry has become a multi-billion dollar moneymaking machine, its games massive in both scope and budget, and its market-leading publishers devouring and integrating any independent developers brave enough to show aspiring ability. While the profit garnered from videogames continues to increase exponentially, the industry’s belief in innovation investment appears to be all but gone. Swallowed by high-risk elevated budgets and comfort zone releases that choose to rely on existing market demographics in favour of seeking new ground, innovation; the one truly invaluable facet of gaming, is rapidly disappearing.

In a New York Times News Service article discussing the increased industry reliance on sequels to guarantee profit return, American McGee, an independent game developer, comments that: “The game industry is not interested in original ideas. We don’t even waste our time pitching them.” McGee, one of the original developers for the massively influential Doom and Quake games goes on to say “We’ve yet to go to a major publisher and have them say that they have slots for original titles.” Some liken this stifling of evolved imagination to that of Hollywood, which has struggled with its own sequel-heavy dependency for many years. But unlike Hollywood, where low budget and independent films have experienced somewhat of a renaissance in recent times, videogames appear firmly shackled to the ‘high-profile winner’ mentality. To further this attitude, Jason Della Rocca, program director for the International Game Developers Association points out that: “The ecosystem of the game industry is broken. In the music industry you don’t have to be Britney Spears to have a career. In Hollywood, big companies invest in smaller ones. But the game industry has not come to this realisation.”

And, unfortunately, the sales figures for these (largely) dire high-profile releases only serves to showcase the inevitable arrival of yet more arduously bland gaming torture. Established titles attract established audiences and that cuts down risk factor by a massive amount, something the bean counters look to secure a long time before even considering the possible inclusion of actual innovative gameplay in their products. The recent Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter movie licenses shipped respective totals of 5.1 and 7 million units; and since its initial appearance in 1995, the Spider-Man gaming franchise has sold more than 8 million units. So what are we, the wrongfully oppressed consumers, left with? We’re left with deficient sequels and franchise dross that taints its own groundbreaking origins. But the uninformed persist in feeding tainted cash into the purulent flesh of games like Tomb Raider, which once drew breathless gasps of awe, but now receives scoffs of loathing from the same consumer base that so lovingly embraced it. And as long as the public continues blindly buying each and every Gran Turismo, Final Fantasy, Metal Gear, Street Fighter, and Grand Theft Auto we will never enjoy the re-emergence of true evolutionary thinking in our videogames.

The major publishing houses would beg to differ, of course. Ubisoft state they are striving to incubate between four and six projects in North America, and various others totalling around twelve worldwide, whereby independent developers gain access to funding and otherwise costly creative tools. Electronic Arts Partners (a division of EA) are also keen to show that they finance and distribute videogames through independent developers with EA assuming every element of involved financial risk. And even Microsoft run a program of incubation by loaning development kits worth thousands of dollars to independent developers. Admirable claims, each and every one, but let us not forget that financial control of these ‘independent incubations’ (a truly horrid term) lies with the publishers, not the developers. It would be naïve to think that developmental control is not also subject to the influence of the publisher. The money does not arrive on the boardroom table without considerable allowances by the developers. The same is evident in the movie industry as monetary partners scrap over every contentious detail, so why should gaming be any different? Therefore, accepting this to be true, are these incubated games truly independent? It’s hard to believe that the end product is nothing less than a catalogue of financially pressured compromises on content. That is not independence.

The publishing predilection for movie tie-ins and inexhaustible sequel editions appears to be gathering pace. This year alone we can expect to be bombarded by King Kong, Batman Begins, and The Fantastic Four, all of which will be released to bolster interest in their Hollywood counterparts—it seldom happens the other way around. Hollywood’s back catalogue is also suffering from unforgivable videogame pilfering with the arrival of The Godfather, Jaws, Dirty Harry, and The Warriors. Even Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver will find itself unnecessarily saddled with a videogame expanding on its cinematic finale. And if these titles of woe weren’t enough—and believe me they are—then fans of 50 Cent (all four of you) will be going bling-bling crazy over the imminent arrival of not only his new album(?) but also an accompanying movie and videogame. Is nothing sacred?

In a recent industry poll conducted on Gamespy.com, a collection of developers and freelance gaming journalists were asked to formulate their Top Ten Videogames of all time. Their posted final ten make for some depressing reading when it comes to the past, present, and future of gaming. The chronologically youngest title on the list is the second placed Half-Life, which first took the world by storm way back in 1998. There is no other game listed covering the seven years between Half-Life and now. Not one. Does this fact not further enforce the idea that gaming is inexorably wasting away beneath our thumbs? A wide range of seminal classics adorn the list, none of which I’d take issue with, but there is no place for Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, not even Ocarina of Time makes the Top Ten. Halo is omitted, as is Resident Evil, Tomb Raider, Metroid Prime, and Grand Theft Auto. In places, the titles on the list exist as distinguished founding fathers to those bastard franchises that have proven the scourge of the industry. But, more importantly, other included titles such as Starcraft, Ultima, and Civilisation highlight an era of inspiration that sadly appears to be ebbing from our grasp.

Perhaps even more worrying, in terms of confirmation of this article, are the largely apathetic buying habits of the public. The current top ten games in the Amazon.co.uk Top Sellers list contains no less than 9 sequels and/or franchise extensions. The remaining title being Killzone for the PS2, which, though not a sequel (its own is on the way you should know) is not exactly renowned for its groundbreaking genre diversity. Plus, there are no Nintendo DS titles to be seen, either, which currently occupy a market position as perhaps the only innovative software in today’s market.

As long as we continue to quell our hunger for games through mundane reincarnations of that we already know, publishers and developers will never leave the path of profitable safety. Release lists are rife with sequels and franchise extensions that offer little more than polished graphics, statistical number juggling, and the odd ‘Star’ voice turn. It’s not enough to warrant our hard-earned cash, and bear in mind that games are not getting any cheaper with each passing hardware generation. We must demand more to curb the destructive trend of publishers who are only too happy to spoon-feed us with less. Innovation should not exist as the bane of mainstream marketing opportunity in an industry that thrived and grew upon its limitless ideals.

(Note: This listing graphic
was taken after the
article was completed
and is used as an
illustration only)

Article by Stevie