On the Transcendental Nature of STG

"Amid the turmoil and tumult of battle, there may be seeming disorder and yet no real disorder at all... -Sun Tzu, The Art of War

He is Shinra, the lone survivor of a ravaged people. He must battle fiercely, move swiftly, and act rationally in a new war--one of frighteningly intense firepower and hypnotic beauty.

Find calm amid the chaos and reap the rewards in this beautiful combination of manga-style storytelling and ultra-challenging arcade heroics."

--taken from the back cover of Ikaruga--

When speaking about depth in video games, it's easy to point to story-focused fare like Metal Gear Solid, RPGs, or some of the more outwardly quirky games, but often the less apparently compelling can be some of the most rewarding.

The genre known to some as STG goes back to the very early days of video games and has continued in some form to this day, yet has been one of the most niche styles on the market since a few years after their initial impact (and about the exact minute that arcades died). It is usually characterized by either a top-down perspective with a focus on verticality, or alternately a from-the-side perspective with horizontal scrolling instead, either way typically featuring the player as a spaceship or mech, and the main focus of the game being a faceoff against armies of enemy ships flying about the screen and assaulting the player with sometimes random and sometimes ornate flurries of projectiles (typically referred to as "bullets" as a catch all including lasers, bombs, etc.) while the player attempts to blow up as many of them as possible while collecting item drops and fulfilling challenges to receive powerups and bonuses; essentially, the genre is spawned from such popular and influential titles as Space Invaders and Galaga. As such, the genre is inherently an arcade-style one, and has never quite left the mentality.

The title is not necessarily agreed upon--though it's not quite on the level of the character action/crazy action/spectacle fighter/cuhrayzee/stylish action/godonlyknowswhatelse genre, it does seem to go by many names, and not one necessarily agreed upon. Some classed it as "shooter," although that could be confusing, as one may guess that that is more suited to games like Call of Duty or Gears of War (or alternatively would just happen to think of those instead). The Japanese named this genre STG as an abbreviation for their term for "shooter," while Westerners christened it "shoot 'em up," often abbreviated as "shmup." As it is the most concise and professional-sounding, it will henceforth be referred to as STG.

STG are typically a tense experience for a beginner or non-fan who just happened to stumble across an old Raiden or 1945 cabinet; people used to console or PC games who are not accustomed to arcade games outside of the occasional barside Pac-Man are often overwhelmed by the difficulty and extreme pacing. This is to be expected, and is likely intentional; the player is likely not going to be spending as much time at whatever venue that hosts the arcade as he is at home, so the experience has to be short and sweet, not to mention that the proprietor of the venue wants the players to part with many quarters very quickly. What kind of soundtrack do you expect to accompany this? Probably something like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYPcte3BlPw (seriously, play this while you read)

It's true, a lot of STG embrace the "totally rad" attitude of the late 80s/early 90s period when they were at their peak popularity. They did often seem to emphasize a total in-your-face attitude with the bullet storms, firepower, and abundance of explosions at all times. But would you believe that the genre often was about the exact opposite of what it seemed to be on the surface? Would you believe that as often as there was music like Evil Destroyer, there was music like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ozsgu4ifXs

It was this particular game that got me to notice this phenomenon, and more specifically, its music. Though Thunder Force IV and its adrenaline-pumping token Genesis music hadn't made me bat an eye, the almost DJ Shadow-like ambience and the soothing operatic vocals seemed to be a weird fit for the constant blasting and manic attempts to avoid being blasted...and yet, they also didn't. Somehow, despite seeming like quite a juxtaposition, it actually felt perfect. Nevertheless, I had always considered it to be merely playing two opposites against each other for a weird synergized effect until picking up Ikaruga.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mKCtUe0zLFQ&list=PL0FBDE87A34B6D290

Ikaruga is a much lauded but highly divisive STG that made a splash about a decade and a half ago, yet continues to fuel arguments to this day. I, for one, find it to be absolutely brilliant; mind you, I've been playing my Darius, Raiden, R-Type, and many others, so no, I would not consider myself the stereotypical Ikaruga fan who picked it up as his first and declared it the be-all-end-all of the genre. No, I approached it with a reasonable (even if not quite scholarly) amount of experience with the genre and still found it to be excellent, both in its very mechanics as a game and the way that it makes its statement.

The quotes above hail from this game, of course; you can imagine how I felt seeing that when going in with the suspicions that I had developed thanks to Darius Gaiden and a few others. Contrary to what they say, however, there is not much by way of storytelling, at least as far as I've seen; the gameplay, then, takes of the slack in delivering and summarizing everything so fascinating about this game and this genre.

The primary selling point was the polarity system; this is a kind of switching mechanic that has a few effects. While in "white mode," the player's ship is surrounded by a bluish-white force field that will absorb white bullets and convert them to points and special attack fuel, and the player will shoot white bullets that do double damage to black enemies, and will make white ones fire a last volley of bullets upon being destroyed. When the player adopts black polarity, then it has the same effects, only vice versa with respect to colors. A skilled player, then, will masterfully weave between the two colors in order to avoid damage and maximize score. What is the significance of this, then? I'd explain, but I would say that the second boss (requiring very skillful employment of both polarities to defeat) does a good enough job of that with the yin/yang symbol firmly and proudly emblazoned on its core.

The principle of STG is a kind of balance: there is bountiful chaos and carnage, but also tranquility, as the back cover quotes allege. While I at first thought that it was the gameplay that was juxtaposed against the music, that's not true; rather, the gameplay is summarized by the soundtrack. Take the Ikaruga OST to which you've (hopefully) been listening. If you were to attempt to describe it, how would you? Sure, it's epic, majestic, and determined-sounding. But what could you say of the mood? It's not happy, it's not sad, it's not angry...it just /is/. It has a very neutral, balanced, almost "floating" kind of feel; if one were to isolate the main melody of each piece, it would have an almost ambient quality to it (in fact, it already arguably does). "Tranquil," you could call it (be ready to see that word and its derivatives a lot in the coming paragraphs). This, then, is reflected in the experience of (properly) playing the game and the genre. Now, a beginner may get caught up in the chaos and tense up when faced with the bullet flurries, manic pacing, and incredible numbers of enemy ships; however, consider looking up footage of a pro player one-credit-clearing a bullet hell STG like Dodonpachi or Touhou. Or don't, I'll describe it: the player is invariably as calm as can be, with each motion precise, deliberate, and cold-blooded. The player is almost in a trance-like state; he is one with the game, and that is why he can so masterfully do what is seemingly impossible to a novice. I myself have found that my own best performances occur when I am taking long, deep breaths and go almost catatonic, whereas going into "oh shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit" mode almost always results in choking and dying rather quickly.

After a short back-and-forth about sports (more specifically, how neither of us was ever particularly good at or interested in them), a guitar teacher of mine once remarked that sports and guitar aren't actually that different--sports just tend to focus on the larger muscles, while playing music was about the smaller ones. If, then, guitar could be said to be like a micro-level sport, I would say that STG could be likened to a martial art.

Now, if any readers are practitioners of the martial arts and are now thinking of telling me how off my rocker I am to compare mere video games to their practice, hear me out. Though my knowledge of the martial arts essentially consists of what I've learned from such bountiful wells of knowledge as fighting games, cheesy Kung Fu movies, and Fist of the North Star /s (sarcasm both in the assertion that those are reputable sources and that they are my only compass), I think that I have absorbed just a slight bit more than the token pedestrian knowledge thereof, so let me explain myself. I'm not claiming that STG are on the same level or anywhere near it, only that they do share a number of traits in their purpose and (proper) execution. The philosophy of yin/yang and the culture of martial arts both were born in eastern Asia, and thus the former is reflected in the core of the latter. Asian culture in general seems to value tranquility and balance--compare Western landscape paintings to those of China or Japan, for instance: while those of the West emphasize color and motion so as to radiate a sense of adventuresomeness (a Western ideal), Eastern ones tend to be colorless and static, so as to emphasize...wait for it...tranquility (which is, of course, the Eastern ideal). This is also evident in much of their architecture, both in the structures themselves and their settings. Despite this, the East was also known for being very warlike: the Chinese were behind many advances in military technology and saw many empires full of conquest, and the Japanese were of course known for their warrior's Bushido code, which defined life for many, as well as their life-and-death lifestyle of the Samurai, glorified to this day. In other words, they historically seem to have valued the chaotic and the tranquil in equally high esteem, which has manifested itself in a form of combat that nevertheless appears to a somewhat informed outsider to be employed at its best by a calm and confident master. A hand-to-hand battle is inherently violent and thus inherently chaotic, yet it is performed in a drumroll tranquil manner and system.

And, ultimately, the same could be said of playing an STG. The subject matter in isolation could be said to be more akin to a war (to which the East appears to have had a similar attitude, per the Sun Tzu quote at the very beginning), yet the entire experience is like a martial art. Someone who doesn't know anything about fighting will likely find himself getting hot-blooded and tense in such a scenario, yet a master of a fighting discipline will instead keep his cool--who, then, is more likely to be the victor? Similar principles, then, are at play in STG, even if on a micro level. The player finds what appears to be a completely chaotic situation (and isn't necessarily not chaotic), yet can only succeed by understanding the role of tranquility in the chaos, then transcending and mastering them both. It's also worth noting that one of the most common compliments that people seem to give to an approved STG is that it has really well thought-out and implemented enemy and bullet patterns, like seeking out a worthy opponent and acknowledging his skill. Even if in a more juvenile medium, this is a kind of modern take on the same ideals that birthed the martial arts; it should come as no surprise that the playerbase for STG consists more or less exclusively of Asians and enthusiasts of Asian cultures.

So, what is the significance of all of this? What does it all mean? To understand that, one has to ask the following question: why do these exist in the first place? Going deeper, why did people ever feel the need to have a micro-level substitute for martial arts in the first place? The answer is that today there is not nearly as much room for implementation of the martial arts. Sure, one may learn some Kung Fu for self-defense if it is ever needed. Yet how does that compare to those for whom it was a lifestyle several centuries ago? The same goes for medieval fantasy games; it is a respite for the same drive that cannot be fulfilled today. To illustrate this: we've eliminated natural landscapes to put up condominiums and build cities, done away with wars fought by the people for their homelands and replaced them with battles by a small number of people for other interests. We've instituted systems by which the majority of people can live comfortably into their 70s, with plenty of food available at any time right down the street at the supermart. We've ensured that most everyone will be able to have shelter and medicine by working a safe job in an office every day. So why do we go to punch numbers in a cubicle all day in a grey concrete environment, again? To provide for ourselves and enjoy safe and comfortable living, of course. Why do we want that? To enjoy life. When do we enjoy life? In our leisure time. What do we do with our leisure time? Apparently, we pretend that we're in constant danger in beautiful natural environments, living exciting and dangerous lives. Does this mean that we get to have our cake and eat it too--that we can live without fear of starvation or the cold of winter and also have the excitement of (a heavily romanticized version of) primitive excitement? Or does the irony speak for itself?

Ultimately, STG has the same function in a different manner: it is a way for the modern world to see the beauty of chaos and the chaos of beauty, and to transcend and witness the bizarre polar synthesis of the two opposing elements.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIxKjmrCrS4 (this gets really good around stage 2)