Artistry Versus Economics

by Sean Daugherty 

In reading several of the other editorials on this page, one of the recurring themes that seems to run through a great many of these articles regards Square's games: Should they be considered art, and above the criticisms of their players, or should they be considered, like all other video games, just a product to be sold to the public.

The answer, I believe, lies somewhere in the middle. Not just with games produced by Square, but by any video game company.

A good point is made by Mike Lenzo in his attack on Final Fantasy VII's ending: Square is undeniably a business. They are only in existance today because fans purchase their products. Naturally, they should try, in whatever way they can, to produce what that player wants to see. Final Fantasy VII cannot be compared to the Mona Lisa because their creators and their markets are entirely different.

But this attitude is incredibly dangerous when taken to an extreme. Certainly, Square shouldn't ignore the wishes of their buying public, but a line must be drawn. Many of those who attack FFVII's ending, for instance, do so on the basis of it being "an injustice against Final Fantasy fans." Not only does this make an umbrella assumption over a group of people wildly different in almost every respect, but confuses the issues greatly.

Square does not owe the public anything. However, the opposite is equally true. If Square starts producing games that people don't like, then those people should cease buying Square's products. That, in itself, is a form of protest. Certainly, even dropping them a line saying how you were dissapointed with whatever is just as justified. But confusing this with a sense of duty Square supposedly has to bow down to the whim of the public is ridiculous.

No, Square's output should not be confused with works of art. But that does not mean Square should instantly try to conform to whatever criticism is thrown their way. Abraham Lincoln said it is not possible to fool all of the people all of the time. It's also impossible to please them all. When a company foregoes all artistic merit for the sole purpose of fufilling every fan-boy's dream, their work suffers greatly.

Case-in-point, "Independence Day." Few people, upon rewatching, consider this movie to be anything great. It's a best a patriotic exercise in fluff: an ethereal but well-produced "feel-good" movie. It did remarkably well at the box office. But does it stand the chance of lasting? Will, in forty years, it be held in the same kind of a regard that "Citizen Kane" is? No. It's a movie that will most likely be delegated to the footnotes of history in less than a decade.

Square is a company. Their work needs to succeed, and to succeed, they need to please their audience. But they cannot please their audience by allowing them to dictate entirely the content of their work. Square may not be producing works of art, but to place heavy restrictions upon their artistic license, as many seem to suggest, would be doing everyone a grave misjustice.