An Attempt At Defining Movements in Game Design

14 min readNov 8, 2021

One of the first things I learnt as a game designer was that everything new is built off the backs of what came before. As romantic as it may sound, game design does not exist in a bubble. It’s built off of insights from iteration, research and testing, which provides the designer with a greater understanding of their player and problem domain, and empowers them to make thoughtful and informed design decisions. I always refer to the classic design process — define, research, analyse, develop, test, iterate — and I believe that a strong understanding of design history is crucial in designing and understanding your own solutions.

So that’s what this article is about! I’ll attempt to describe the progression of mainstream game design through the lens of movements, as nobody else has really seemed to have done it before. Is it an attempt to provide legitimacy for a medium that many see as “not art”? Does it even matter if something you enjoy is or isn’t art? Maybe, maybe not… but those are questions too big for one man’s Medium article.

Gaming is unique in that its movements can be defined in relation to a clear progression in technology in the way that comparable mediums such as film or visual art are not. While the development of PC technology is admittedly separate from the advancement of console generations, the truth is that console generations often define the limits and expectations of what’s possible in a video game, especially as each console generation expands or changes what was possible before. I should also note as a writer and semi-professional game designer that I grew up during the 7th generation of console gaming, so I can only speak to my own experiences, or lack thereof.

“What the hell is a movement, anyway?”

I guess I should define what I’m calling a game design movement. As with film and art movements, a movement may be more accurately described as an influential philosophy of a game’s design that can be observed across a group of games and genres. It should also be noted that not all games can fit or should fit into any defined movement — after all, a movement is an observation of a pattern or trend, rather than a prescription or boundary. A movement is also not a genre — while some genres (e.g sports, racing) may fall neatly into certain movements, others may not (puzzle, the impressively broad action-adventure genre).

Pre-3D:

Arcade: Satisfying, Elegant Verbs and Mechanics (1970s-1990s)

The arcade movement needs no introduction — games that follow this movement include Pong, Mario Bros., Donkey Kong, Pac-Man, Raiden. Their design was intrinsically linked to the arcade cabinet, which essentially allowed for monetisation through replays. As such, game design was driven primarily through easily-repeatable, addictive gameplay loops, with a heavy focus on reflex-based gameplay and game feel. While arcade game design has decreased in popularity after the popularisation of console/PC gaming, arcades still have their niche as a more social and accessible form of playing games. The progression of arcade design today can mostly be seen in the free-to-play mobile space, which often monetises with replays and motivates with score-chasing and mastery — perfect for bite-sized, on-the-go gaming, and has evolved to include 3D gameplay, as is seen in some endless runners. In many ways, almost all gameplay design across genre and philosophy stems from the arcade sensibilities of loops, challenge, motivation and feedback.

Arcade titles are built off of strong, simple and repeatable mechanics, and are highly dependent on their short play sessions.

Retro: The World is a Level (1980s-2000s)

The retro movement follows the arcade movement, and can be considered a successor to arcade design and a precursor to console design. The adoption of the home consoles in the NES and Sega Master System allowed for longer, more story-driven games, although the core game design was still very much rooted in the arcade sensibility of repeatable game loops and great game feel. I find that the difference in games of this period come from the ability to afford a greater sense of progression. Owing to the fact that in contrast to arcade, monetisation was upfront and the player personally owned the system, designers were able to create longer-form experiences with more variable, dynamic game loops, simple stories and more nuanced difficulty.

The Legend of Zelda is a great example of this; such a game could have likely never existed during the arcade movement, owing to its progression (and was notably one of the first console games to feature a save system) and play session length. Super Mario Bros. is an obvious example of a retro game that played with the longer interaction loops afforded by the technology. Games during the 4th generation of consoles (SNES, Genesis) also follow this movement, with minor changes based on the increased power of the hardware at the time. Building games with this movement in mind is still popular today, especially in the indie space; Cuphead and Super Meat Boy come to mind as having levels rooted in the pure abstraction of the retro movement, though it’s not uncommon for games with retro roots to adopt the thematic/cinematic language of later movements (Ori and the Blind Forest, Limbo, Hollow Knight).

Retro titles often feature design that is “gamey” — the in-universe realism of a space is less of a focus than creating challenge and capitalising upon the arcade-inspired flow.

From the 5th Generation of Consoles

Adventure: The World is a Level with Theme (1990s — 2010s)

While immersion through atmosphere had been seen since at least the creation of Metroid, the introduction of 3D graphics in the console space coincided with a complete paradigm shift in the gaming landscape, as designers rushed to discover the possibilities that the new technology could afford. The treatment of the game world during this era was that the world was still a level full of abstract platforms, goals and challenges, but also had a much stronger sense of worldbuilding through theme and presence, owing to a stronger cinematic influence.

Games like Ocarina Of Time, Resident Evil, Half-Life and Metal Gear Solid all leaned into the carefully considered characterisation, atmosphere, composition and scripting of their worlds and narratives, and began to tell stories far more intricate than what was possible during the Retro era. The progression of the Adventure movement can be seen in many following console generations through games like Halo and Metroid Prime, which leant further into their narratives and environmental storytelling, and influenced many movements to come. While some games might have had the same focus on great verbs or mechanics as is in the arcade/retro movements, there was a more holistic approach to how the world was constructed, with a greater focus on narrative and atmosphere. I’d say that the main difference between this movement and the cinematic narrative movement is that while the game may have a narrative, the written narrative isn’t always the “point” of the game.

While Metal Gear Solid’s Shadow Moses Island is still very much a “video game level”, it uses the camera, music and visuals to create a much stronger presence than was possible on the Metal Gear on the MSX2.

From the 6th Generation of Consoles

Minimalism: Mechanics as Theme (2000s-Present)

Minimalism in gaming can be seen as a reaction to the ballooning scope of games and their mechanics, as well as their increased focus on narrative. Whereas games in the Adventure movement attempted to tell stories through means such as cutscenes and narrative, minimalist games are more focussed on what can only be told through an interactive medium. An excellent example of this is the work by Fumito Ueda, who designed and directed Ico, Shadow of the Colossus and The Last Guardian, all of which attempted to show themes of connection or guilt through the player’s actions. Minimalist games in the vein of Ueda often aim to strip back as many of the abstractions and affordances of game mechanics as possible, to result in tightly-designed games that aim to convey feelings or moods that are often intrinsically linked to the player’s interactions with the game.

While Ueda’s works are the easiest to describe in terms of traditional minimalism, I often see many games that follow its philosophies. I describe Dark Souls as taking strong influence from this movement, despite its less reductionist approach to design — the game’s loop aims to convey a simple sense of triumph over extreme adversity through its difficulty, rather than to regard its mechanics as a means to traverse or explore the game’s levels and challenges. A minimalist influence is also seen in games such as Journey, as well as Hideo Kojima’s most recent title Death Stranding, which aim to get the themes of connection through their mechanics. Where playability is often the focus in Arcade/Retro/Adventure titles, it should be noted that Minimalist titles often focus on if the mechanics support the theme, rather than how intrinsically “fun” the mechanics are.

Fumito Ueda famously culls mechanics and systems he deems unnecessary for a game, such as a combo system in Ico and enemies in Shadow of the Colossus.

Emergent: Systems as Story (1990s-Present)

The emergent movement includes sandbox genre staples such as Grand Theft Auto and most of the work by Rockstar Games, as well as the “immersive sim” titles of Looking Glass Studios and Arkane Studios, and many PC games such as Civilisation or RimWorld. The nomenclature of the emergent movement comes from emergent gameplay, which is an intended result of most sandbox or systems-driven games, and describes the combination of various rules and systems to create unscripted scenarios and stories. I’ve always seen emergent games as the expression of the saying “story is gameplay” taken to its theoretical extreme. The trade-off that occurs is that emergent games are often unable to reconcile the non-linear strengths of emergence with the tightly-directed and paced strengths of a linear narrative, and many attempts to do so result in games (Red Dead Redemption 2) that have a clear divide in sandbox and narrative, or need to make significant sacrifices to both.

Many dialogue-driven western RPGs (Skyrim, Mass Effect, The Witcher) are at least partially influenced by this movement, which often focus on the self-expression of the player and their agency through dialogue mechanics, and the consequences and choices that the player makes. The difference between this philosophy and others is that the designers aim to both convey and create narratives through the interaction of systems and mechanics rather than through the “traditional” non-interactive means (cutscenes, reading, NPC chatter), to create a unique, emergent and personal story for the player. With this in mind, games in this genre often focus on empowerment through playing with a game’s mechanics. Additionally, there is often far less emphasis on an individual mechanic, in contrast to the core of arcade/retro titles — gameplay design is often more holistic, aiming for a strong interconnectivity of systems and behaviours to create the gameplay experience.

Games that follow this philosophy can be described as “anecdote generators”, and the game’s written narrative isn’t always as important as the agency, experiences and self-expression of the player. For instance, describing the gameplay of Grand Theft Auto V would probably be more like “the one time I jumped out of a helicopter” rather than “that part where Michael killed his therapist.” Emergent games are becoming increasingly popular today — Ubisoft titles in particular have taken a much stronger influence from the empowered, player-driven philosophy of the emergent movement in Far Cry and modern Assassin’s Creed games. Red Dead Redemption 2 is also notable as an attempt at bringing the more instanced “sandbox firefights” of Rockstar’s previous works into a “sandbox world”, stitching together small gameplay loops of combat, hunting or exploration with random encounters and interconnectivity with wider-reaching honor and bounty systems to create emergent gameplay.

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey’s bounty and faction systems were almost completely unscripted, and would frequently intersect — mercenaries would attack you during missions, faction wars, and in the open world.

From the 7th Generation of Consoles:

Cinematic Narrative: Narrative Intrinsic to Gameplay (2010s-Present)

The cinematic narrative movement takes elements from multiple earlier movements, most notably from the adventure movement, where the increased cinematic influence and advancement of 3D graphics allows for more photorealistic worlds. However, they also are often defined by their influences from the narrative/tone focus of minimalist games. I would argue that the cinematic narrative movement differs from other movements in that the narrative is intrinsic to the game, and one often cannot succeed or exist without the other. The focus of the game also often intends to convey a narrative experience rather than one that is entirely mechanical or gameplay-focussed. While elements of the cinematic narrative could be seen as far back as Half-Life and Metal Gear Solid, the modern cinematic narrative was popularised by the big-budget, AAA efforts of Naughty Dog’s Uncharted series and many of the first-party titles under the Sony PlayStation umbrella.

While many narrative-driven games such as those by Quantic Dream or Telltale have the reduced mechanical complexity of the minimalist movement to create a larger focus on the narrative, games like The Witcher 3 or God Of War (2018) aim to combine their increased narrative focus with more abstracted or “gamey” genres of the open-world RPG and the hack-and-slash game, respectively. In keeping with the increased narrative focus of the cinematic narrative movement, games that take influence from this movement often feature more minimalist-inspired experiential sequences that are reliant on the game’s narrative or pacing, such as exploration or character dialogue, or naturalist-inspired non-linear segments (Uncharted 4, Gears 5, Metro: Exodus).

The guitar sequences in The Last of Us Part II would lack context and depth if the narrative was removed.

From the 8th Gen of Consoles:

Naturalism: The World is a World (2010s-Present)

While elements of naturalism can be seen dating at least as far back as The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, I see naturalism as a partial reaction to the gaming landscape of the 8th generation, which saw the rise of linear, abstraction-heavy games, often leading to an abundance of perceived artifice (and therefore separation) through abstracted progression mechanics, minimap icons, and the UI. I would describe naturalism as one that aims to create complete immersion and escapism in its world through its loops and mechanics, through diegetic methods such as discovery or dialogue, rather than non-diegetic abstractions (menus and artifice). Naturalism takes liberally from other movements: it uses elements from minimalism, in that mechanics and actions are carefully selected that fit within the game’s fantasy, but also borrows from the mechanics-focused arcade/retro movements, and often the player-driven philosophies of the emergent movement, and immersive theming of the adventure/cinematic narrative movements.

I see Nintendo’s The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild as a game that popularised this movement through its approach to player agency; where most open-world titles used extrinsic motivators such as icons or the minimap to drive exploration and traversal, Breath Of The Wild aimed to create a natural, instinctive form of exploration that is based primarily on sighting visual landmarks and free-form traversal. Elements of naturalism in game design also appear in the Uncharted series’ focus on visual landmarks and exploration, Ghost of Tsushima’s discovery mechanics in its wildlife and compass, A Short Hike, Outer Wilds and Morrowind’s focus on exploration through world interactions, and Metro: Exodus and Red Dead Redemption 2’s focus on the verisimilitude of its game’s interactions. It can be observed that naturalism in its current form is almost synonymous with open-world games, which can already be seen as an push towards capturing a wider range of experiences when compared to most games from the arcade to the cinematic narrative movements — I predict that this correlation of naturalist open-world games will be challenged as the movement increases in popularity.

Games that follow a naturalist approach to design often attempt to allow the player to simply exist in the visual-auditory experiences of the world and control the pacing of their own experience, almost as an attempt to capture slice-of-life narratives through game design, and many have elements of non-linearity to remove any artifice that comes from non-diegetic boundaries in the game’s world. By contrast, many cinematic narrative titles are extremely rigid in when and where the player is able to control the pacing of the narrative, though naturalist influences within the cinematic narrative can be seen as far back as Uncharted 2: Among Thieves, where lead character Nathan Drake explores a village and interacts with its inhabitants.

The golden birds in Ghost Of Tsushima present information in a form that’s diegetic to the game’s fantasy.

While Hellblade could be considered as taking most influence from the cinematic narrative movement, its combat information is reliant on naturalistic visual and audio cues.

What’s Next?

Many of the games that observe these movements are not mutually exclusive; even linear narratives like The Last of Us Part II has naturalist elements, especially in the exploration-focused, non-linear Downtown Seattle level, and Red Dead Redemption 2 maintains the linear, highly scripted narratives of the cinematic narrative movement. While narrative-driven cinematic narrative game design practically rules the big-budget console gaming space, I believe that the industry as a whole (especially due to the popularity of the open-world genre) is moving towards systems-driven games, likely with a naturalist philosophy. Games like Breath of the Wild and Red Dead Redemption 2 have shown the mainstream success that can come from games that allow for escapist, emergent player experiences that are just a little bit abrasive. This can already be seen in the design influence on Ubisoft’s flagship titles, and will likely become increasingly popular among AAA publishers due to increased replayability and thus monetisation potential.

Fortnite seems to be an example of a game that seems to defy game design movements, moving away from the traditional battle royale game genre and towards a social platform in itself — one that provides for player expression outside through social experiences like an expanded version of those found in Journey and Sky: Children of the Light, while allowing players to experience virtual, playable Ariana Grande concerts.

I’ve also barely touched upon the influence of online and social systems on the movements of game design — games at the start of the 8th console generation like Destiny and associated “mmo-lites” made a push towards uninterrupted, hybrid (dare I say naturalistic) singleplayer/multiplayer experiences and games as a service, or even games as a platform. The progression of this seamless multiplayer game design can already be seen in titles ranging from Fallout 76 to The Division, and is likely an element of the rumoured Assassin’s Creed Infinity.

I can see a scenario in the upcoming console generation where many games have some sort of connectivity with the player’s life outside of the game- it was attempted with Assassin’s Creed: Unity and is practically the norm with successful mobile games, after all. That’s not even barely touching the fabled metaverse — a world in which all devices are connected: AR, VR, smartphones, consoles. Connecting to a theoretical metaverse across a variety of devices is supposed to be second nature — it stands to reason that games, like our lives, will gain an element of natural, persistent connectivity. I may as well find myself writing about a “games as a lifestyle” movement in five years’ time, if I don’t find it too dystopian.

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