Diggedy Derek
Stray Dog
Played Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas last night, which is amazingly fun (much more so than the bloated, stoopid Vice City). Set in Straight Outta Compton era LA, it's extraordinarily rich in observation- one of the characters (Ryder) is clearly Eazy-E, perpetually blunted, hunched up behind shades, nasty and spiky. The music is fantastic, one radio station seems to play nothing but James Brown and his funky people (Think, I'm Coming etc.), and you get Cypress Hill's How I Could Just Kill A Man too.
But <adopting BBC Late Review demeanor> is it art? Many have pointed to the satirical or ironic qualities of the GTA games- a humorous shake-down of unrestrained capitalism. While this is true to a degree, it doesn't seem to really address their essence as games rather than fictions. Games only attain a real cultural importance after they are released, when the audience responds to it. I think if the mileu they create is consistent and provocative enough, it gives a chance to revisit, to reinvent cultural histories. For instance, and this is only a small reinvention, but a G-funk re-lick of The Message suddenly sounded impassioned and vital rather than just a lazy retread, when I was driving around (ahem) my 'hood.
So computer games are inherently non-auteuristic, but this gives a consequet problem that they keep on pandering to the same violent, macho thrills. How can computer games break out of this comodifying cycle, I wonder?
But <adopting BBC Late Review demeanor> is it art? Many have pointed to the satirical or ironic qualities of the GTA games- a humorous shake-down of unrestrained capitalism. While this is true to a degree, it doesn't seem to really address their essence as games rather than fictions. Games only attain a real cultural importance after they are released, when the audience responds to it. I think if the mileu they create is consistent and provocative enough, it gives a chance to revisit, to reinvent cultural histories. For instance, and this is only a small reinvention, but a G-funk re-lick of The Message suddenly sounded impassioned and vital rather than just a lazy retread, when I was driving around (ahem) my 'hood.
So computer games are inherently non-auteuristic, but this gives a consequet problem that they keep on pandering to the same violent, macho thrills. How can computer games break out of this comodifying cycle, I wonder?