Ronald B. Tobias (a literary expert and novelist) claims that all stories are derived from one of 20 different master plots. These plots range from Metamorphosis to Ascension and even Forbidden Love. I imagine Mr. Tobias was an utter killjoy at reading circles. With this in mind, I am hard pushed to find a book I’ve read that doesn’t fall into one of these categories – and I’ve read at least three books! These narrative archetypes are very revealing in how writers approach storytelling both in books and in other forms of media. Videogame stories also fall into these 20 master plots, but this will come as no great surprise to most of us as videogame narratives are usually as vapid and unsophisticated as a football pundit’s autobiography.

Two very distinct ways that authors mix up the potential monotony and repetitious nature of their books is by changing the setting or period (or both), and filling their text with original and endearing characters. For the most part, videogame designers have strived to create characters that breathe life into their works of fiction. Only recently have we seen motion capture and facial animation fully come of age and infuse a great sense of humanity and realism into these digital creations. Uncharted would be a much poorer game if it wasn’t for our half-tucked hero swaggering and jesting all over the scenery, and L.A. Noire would have been damn near unplayable if the dramatic aptitude of Aaron Stanton was missing. These characters are products of not only endeavor and creative freedom but financial investment. Hiring writers, actors and technicians to bring these performances to life is a costly, but wholly worthwhile, investment, and one that not every production house can afford.

What to do then if a dramatic performance is required but Nolan North is otherwise engaged (or simply demanding the Earth?) It is altogether possible (and financially viable) to create an entire cast of characters ripped from the frontal lobes of the avid gamers recollection. The character archetype is, and will remain, the cheapest and least inventive method of generating a menagerie of characters your audience is already privy to. Familiarity is a comfortable and workable emotion to sew into a game whose main function is not to create an invigorating and interesting narrative focus. We’ve all been exposed to the physical profiling that accompanies an entire cast of degenerate archetypes. When the cast of Gearbox Software’s Boarderlands was announced and showcased we all knew who was going to tick what boxes. Slow/tough, fast/weak and Mr. Average were all represented by gender, size and appearance; familiar, repetitious and utterly serviceable; we knew where we stood instantly, and at no point were we surprised.

The history of the character archetype is one of necessity. In the early days of game design, gameplay was king and graphics were limited. Mario was a fat plumber who saved a princess and ate mushrooms – end of. As character definition came about with an increase in design scope a visual representation of this diversity was needed and, as speech and animation was still hugely underdeveloped, graphical designation was required. The best example of this definition comes from a now sadly defunct genre, the scrolling fighting game. By offering different characters and classes a tactical element was introduced adding depth and replay value to titles. Streets of Rage 2 was a classic example of how physical differences aided the identification of difference in statistical attributes. The skinny little kid on roller skates was never going to pack as big a punch as the human tank with the jazzy trousers. It was common sense and, in a way, rather charming for the time.

Oh how times have changed though. The scrolling fighting game is almost utterly obsolete save nostalgic novelty titles and retrospective compilation games. Gone are the days where it was feasible to hit the streets, take on a small army’s worth of criminals and be back home in time for Games Master and some fish fingers and beans. Gaming innocence may be a thing of the past but the reliance on the character archetype is still alive and well. Gauging the impact that character profiling had will be hard to judge due to the endemic nature of the act. Also, it’s difficult to question the prolific use of archetypes as not every game see’s a great value in well defined and interesting characters. Bulky, sweaty, sweary space marines are an industry norm not known for their grace, poise and affection for the poetry of Keats; but why have they become an industry norm at all. It can’t simply be a case of lazy writing for stupid games surely. Gears of War has easily the most meat headed of space marine verity. As thick as granite and as deep as paper, Marcus Fenix is a dumb instrument of war and shouty, shouty violence. Despite his scarred and outlandish aesthetic he is an icon of, not only a game, but an entire genre; the king of an overused archetype.

Whilst Fenix was as dull as ditch water, he did fill out his role well for his appointed genre. His ham fisted approach and coarse visage blended in quite nicely to the games visual nature and tone. It would be fair to say that, in this instance, Fenix was a perfect fit for a fairly inelegant title. The prior knowledge we posses as gamers meant that his character framework was already known to us and used to its full advantage. It is the instances where this profiling detracts and unravels an otherwise interesting plot or character set that we see archetypes being re-used for the wrong reasons.

The Killzone franchise has always baffled me with its approach to plotting and character. Whilst the mythology and history behind the long standing conflict between the ISA and Helgast has kept me interested, the approach to characterization and narrative has been woefully below par on all three occasions. Gregor Hakha, who I found to be the most dynamic and interesting character, was present in the first game but absent from every title afterwards. A Helgan acting as an ISA spy with a mysterious back story and conflicting opinions of who to trust and who to fight for is, for Killzone at least, an intriguing and rounded character. Who instead do developers Guerilla decide to follow thought the campaign? The fat ethnic stereotype with a heavy weapon and shitty attitude, that’s who.

Sigh.

Rico Velasquez is not only a boring character archetype, he’s an abhorrent individual to be around. If he was a real person, you’d cross the street to avoid any form of contact with him. His gung-ho attitude and constant insistence on indiscriminant war mongering is not only detrimental to the ISA’s war effort, but an assault on common human decency. Simply removing him from the series would have raised Killzone’s plot from below reproach into the realms of the barely risible.

Almost every aspect in videogame design has advanced somewhat over the past 15 years, but the industry still belligerently grasps on to some of the endemic tropes which anchor the medium in the creative doldrums. Whether this insistence on ritualistic character portrayal is the fault of the consumer or the writers is up for discussion, but what is clear is that good characters are recognized and celebrated by all and sundry. Great characters don’t have to say anything at all to be considered great. I’m fairly confident in saying that Wanda and Agro didn’t share a single line in Shadow of the Colossus, but their relationship and experience jumped off the screen thanks to delicate development and an original approach to story-telling.

Whilst gaming is still a young medium it exists in time where feedback and user experience are almost instantaneous. This fact alone defines the progression of the medium and sets it apart from its nearest associated form of entertainment – film. We are a long way from the development and depth seen in film, but games have an innate ability to be worth more than the sum of their parts by way of the passion and dedication we see in all facets of the coding. Characters such as Nathan Drake and Lara Croft would bore audiences to tears with their generic design and repetitious stories; and yet, strangely they have become mascots of platforms and idols of a genre. Is this fixation due to the immaturity of the audience, or the fact that they were original characters for the medium?

As gamers we can’t directly force the hand of developers, but we can applaud and condemn their decisions. Next time you’re faced with a character selection screen and the choice between the sexy, slinky stealth babe who was raised by wolves or the hulking, black, cigar-chomping heavy weapons bloke raises its ugly head, think to yourself – am I not worth a bit more than this? Always bear in mind that in the dice game of life no-one ever remembers Mr. Average.