Reset and Redefine: Never Alone (Kisima Ingitchuna) and the
Rise of Indigenous Games
"One
of things I think a lot of people need to understand is we aren't a museum
piece. The Iñupiat people are a living people, and a living culture. Even
though we're in Northern Alaska, which covers this vast area from Nome all the
way over to the Canadian border, there is this extreme value of
interconnectedness and interdependence."
—Amy
Fredeen (Iñupiat),
"A
Living People: A Living Culture" Cultural Insight,
Never Alone (Kisima
Ingitchuna), 2014
Indigenous
storytelling within video games forces players to immerse themselves within
ancestral worlds that have existed since time immemorial. Coming straight from
community members, youth and elders alike, the videogame landscape has
witnessed an explosion of Indigenous-centred narratives in games produced over
the last decade. Never Alone (Kisima Ingitchuna) (2014) is but one
example of Indigenous storytelling in videogames, but it is certainly a
visually stunning and narratively riveting piece of oral tradition. As an
integral part of the fluid social landscapes that make up Turtle Island,
Indigenous communities are proving to be frontrunners within the development
and execution of the ground-breaking digital experiences that videogaming
provides its players. Never Alone is
a two-player cooperative, 3D platformer[1]
video game published by the Indigenous owned and operated Upper One Games, a
subsidiary of E-Line Media. Released on 18 November 2014 to the Steam Store for
both Windows and Mac OS X operating systems, Never Alone is a game developed in collaboration with the Iñupiat,
an Indigenous peoples native to what is now known as northern Alaska. Close to
40 Iñupiat elders, storytellers, and community members contributed to the
development of the piece, which is as much a game for entertainment as it is a
tool for teaching and learning. This review sets out to unpack the narrative
and presentation of Never Alone to
give rich cultural context into Iñupiat life. The game insists on showing
players how the Iñupiat of Cook Inlet are choosing to promote their distinct
cultural expressions through self-representation and self-articulation for the
benefit of all members of their community. As both a video game and representative
documentary of Iñupiat lifeworlds, Never
Alone demonstrates the potential that videogames hold in creating digital
spaces for redefining damaging Indigenous stereotypes found in gaming
narratives and resetting the cross-cultural capacities of videogaming as a
medium of social sharing and adventure.
Redefining
Indigeneity through Storytelling in Never
Alone
On its ice-covered
surface, the virtual setting and narrative of Never Alone could be considered by many to be quite ordinary:
marketed with an easily-understood plotline that features a hero on an
adventure with their trusted (and very cute) companion. However, the game
disrupts its own marketed simplicity even before you take your first steps as
the narrative's heroine, Nuna. Never
Alone opens with a simple menu that prompts players to begin their journey
with the option of watching the first two of twenty-four "Cultural Insights"
available for viewing as part of the game. Titled "A Living People, a Living
Culture" and "It Would Be Really Nice to Hear a Story" respectively, these Cultural Insights of Never Alone centre the voices and
reflections of Iñupiat community members to communicate their culture's
reliance on their traditional knowledge of the interconnectedness of humanity's
relationship to the natural world. These Insights show the prevalence of
storytelling and the ongoing transmission of Iñupiat cultural knowledge through
oral tradition. The story of Nuna and Fox are foundational to how the community
sees themselves. Right away, players are strongly encouraged to engage with a
video game in a way that does not
only require them to simply run and jump through the challenges presented by
the game design itself, but to also watch and engage with a living Iñupiat
community.
When players first
enter the game world, they are first greeted by the melodic voice of Iñupiat
storyteller and narrator, Leo Oktollik, who begins the narrative in the
traditional language of his community though a cut scene where he shares: "I
will tell you a very old story. I heard it from Nasruk when I was very young"
(Walkthrough Part 1, 0:18-0:26). From this acknowledgement of the story's
retelling, players are introduced to Nuna, the narrative's protagonist, who
sets off to find the cause of a supernatural blizzard that has plunged her
community into immobility and despair. Nuna is faced with the brutal challenges
of the Alaskan Arctic and when hope is all but lost she is rescued by Fox; both
characters become each other's companion and most treasured friend during the
first stages of their adventure. Because both Nuna and Fox are meant to each be
played by a different player with their own set of controls, players learn very
early that the relationship between Nuna and Fox is a truly reciprocal one. There
are several key elements to the game mechanics that point to the concept of
reciprocity that is shared by Iñupiat cultural traditions and highlighted
through the previous Cultural Insights. Each playable character has a unique
skillset that requires players (playing both solo and cooperatively) to value
both characters equally. Nuna harnesses the power of a Bola, one of the
traditional hunting weapons of the Iñupiat people, to open pathways so that the
two may progress. The nimble-bodied Fox is able to scale tall obstacles that
Nuna is unable to climb herself by using his claws in order to reach higher
places and open alternate routes for Nuna to follow. This key concept of
interconnectedness is one that I wish to highlight in both Never Alone's narrative and its mechanics because the game's story
immerses players within the characters' relationship, while also requiring
players to control both characters equally in order to progress. Players of Never Alone are encouraged to balance
Nuna and Fox's heroic identities while also coordinating the character's
puzzle-solving abilities.
Much like the two
characters' reciprocal interdependence on one another extends to the
presentations of player success within the narrative, so too are they seen
through the possibilities for player failure in the game's practical sense. The
Alaskan Arctic setting is shown to be as hauntingly beautiful as it is perilous
for Nuna and Fox, as one wrong move and a chilly gust of the Arctic winds can
easily sweep the characters to their demise. Upon failure resulting in either
of the characters' death, players are forced to start the segment over again
until they get it right and are able to successfully move on. Because both characters
must be played to each of their strengths to compensate for their individual
weaknesses, the life of the human protagonist, Nuna, cannot be valued more than
the life of Fox due to his status as a representative of the animal world. Never Alone blurs the lines of what is
commonly understood in Western renderings of the natural world order, as Fox
cannot be read of as a one-dimensional character whose only purpose within the
story is to serve the bidding of his "master" and solve puzzles so that she can
move on with her quest. There is no master-slave narrative within Never Alone, only the love for life in
all of its forms. The game makes sure to spotlight the exceptional actions of
the seemingly ordinary characters of Nuna and Fox who persevere onward when constantly
faced with near certain death.
Nuna and Fox meet for
the first time (Upper One Games LLC, 2014).
It is important to
note the prevalence of the more-than-physical world within the story and game
mechanics of Never Alone. Once Nuna
and Fox set out on their journey to put an end to the eternal blizzard in order
to ensure the survival of their community, players are introduced to the
various spirits that appear throughout the narrative. Some of these spectral
characters within the game are "helping spirits" that take on the visual
identity associated with several beings like loons and trees, who then help
Nuna and Fox to access pathways they would not normally be able to reach on
their own. Fox acts as a liaison between the physical world of humanity and the
spirit world that seamlessly co-exist in the breathtaking visual graphics of Never Alone. As a storytelling element
of the narrative specifically, the idea that Fox acts as a physical bridge
between Nuna and the spirits themselves is openly presented by the voice of the
game's storyteller, stating that "the girl understood that helping spirits are
among us. Being different, that fox revealed to the girl just how beautiful
those helpers were" (Walkthrough Part 1, 6:54-7:04). Never Alone also upholds the relevance of the spiritual world in a
practical sense when players control Fox, as they must learn how to lead many
of the helping spirits in different directions so that Nuna may actually reach
them herself. The spirits that do appear in the game are also not
one-dimensional in their relationships to Fox and Nuna. During one sequence of
the game, players are presented with the challenge of dodging the Northern
Lights which are depicted as green, phantom-like spirits that swoop down from
the sky and snatch up the heroes if players are not careful enough to observe
their movement patterns. Furthermore, it is eventually revealed that the
unrelenting blizzard that is plaguing their community is being caused by the
smashing and shoveling work of a giant ice man: a supernatural figure that
signifies yet another representation of the cross-over between physical and
spiritual worlds. Not only are players introduced to the Iñupiat cultural
traditions that conceive of the human and the animal worlds as sharing complete
interdependence with one another, but they are also shown the all-pervasiveness
and diversity of spirituality that exists in Arctic landscapes as seen through
the game's portrayal of the Northern Lights and the giant ice man. The game's
narrative requires players to engage with a certain kind of worldview that the
Iñupiat conceptualize through oral traditions that form the very foundation of
their Arctic lifeworld.
Extending my summary
and analysis of Never Alone from the
specific to the general, the game does a commendable job at breaking down
typical or common tropes often found within adventure narratives; especially in
the medium of mainstream video games and other interactive media. Although the
game may be marketed as such a narrative, Nuna cannot be so simply understood
as prototypical hero in this story. For one, she is female, and an incredibly
young one at that, appearing to be no more than twelve years old. This sharply
contrasts the various adventure-hero identities that players are used to connecting
with in other games in the platformer genre. Nintendo's Super Mario Brothers, being the most well-known example of a
platform game, centres the narrative on working-class, mature men (Mario and
his brother/sidekick Luigi) who are out to save a kidnapped princess from a
one-dimensional villain character. Nintendo's Mario character, and the platform
games he is featured in, set the bar for independently-published titles like Never Alone. In contrast to Mario however, Never Alone's protagonist Nuna is not only a young girl, but also a
woman of colour from northern Alaska who lives a life that is centred on
upholding the well-being of her personal community as well as the balance of
the natural world to which she and her family are connected with. The reasoning
behind her choice to embark on a perilous adventure into the Arctic tundra is
not to find a potential lover, but as a necessary responsibility to keeping the
physical and spiritual worlds from falling out of balance. Unlike many other
typical adventure narratives similar to Super
Mario Brothers, the story and game mechanics of Never Alone also rely on the cooperative utilization of two
playable characters' skills in order to complete the game. This foundational
component of the game, along with the often-occurring Cultural Insights
throughout, strongly encourage players to critically engage with Iñupiat
values, gender systems, and worldviews to deconstruct and intervene from within
the framework of videogaming as a genre. More of this kind of work is sorely
needed in a genre that has been geared toward a white, hetero-patriarchal
mainstream culture since video games were popularized in the late 1980s. Nuna and Fox are truly exceptional characters, communicating
in many ways including their physical actions, facial expressions, and vocal
explanations. Their unbreakable bond is something tangible that all players are
able to experience for themselves, in one way or another.
Resetting
Cultural Contact Zones with Indigenous Game-Making
By no means does Never Alone as experiential and
consumable media exist within a vacuum of relevancy that stays strict to the Iñupiat
of Cook Inlet. As a contemporary method of passing down oral tradition within
Iñupiat communities, it is also a globally-commercialized game. The game's
global influence is clearly shown in the multitude of reviews by game critics
and the distribution of its license to buyers from all over the world. Renisa
Mawani's writings on the racially-diverse and heterogeneous "Contact Zone" of
British Columbia in her book titled Colonial
Proximities: Crossracial Encounters and Juridical Truths in British Columbia,
1871-1921 can help to further unpack what it means to now have an
Indigenous-made video game that exists to be accessed and critiqued by a
mainstream gaming audience. In her conception, the colonial contact zone acts
"as a space of racial intermixture – a place where Europeans, aboriginal
peoples, and racial migrants came into frequent contact" in conceptual and
physical geographies (Mawani 5). Cyberspace occupies a somewhat paradoxical
position in Mawani's conception of what a contact zone is, as it is neither
solely a conceptual framework or a physical location that can be touched barring
server infrastructure. The digital seems to exist as if from nothing. It
appears to just be there, on your computer monitor. This all-new digital
contact zone that Never Alone belongs
to is created in the digital marketplace where the game is sold, as well as in its
physical grounding in the North Alaskan roots of Iñupiat oral tradition. Furthermore,
Mawani asserts that contact zones also exist "as a variegated site that was
generative of multiple racial identities" (Mawani 5). Knowing that video games
have held presences within Indigenous communities since they were first
marketed to public consumers, it is important to note that the intercultural
aspect of videogaming has also existed through portrayals of culture within
those games. These kinds of cross-cultural connections are incredibly relevant
when trying to understand the history of video gaming in Indigenous communities
today, as Indigenous people are also engaging with video game narratives that
communicate stereotypical representations of Indigenous cultures as monolithic
and undeveloped. What happens when the opposite occurs and the Indigenous
voices contained within video games, like they are in Never Alone, engage with players that are not only from Iñupiat
communities, but from all over the world? Cultural contact zones found within
video games are now being reformed in order to centre Indigenous voices in a
way that has been done only limitedly thus far; giving us a glimpse of what is
yet to come for Indigenous gaming as a genre.
Analyzing the digital
platform where Never Alone is both
marketed and reviewed helps to conceptualize the ongoing formation of digital
contact zones sparked by Indigenous-made games. The Steam Store is an online
marketplace that carries over sixty-four hundred different video games and is
the primary platform for Windows and Mac OS X users to purchase a digital copy
of Never Alone. Steam lists that the
game carries sixteen supported languages (for the game's interface and
subtitles) that range from French to Japanese, and Swedish to Korean. With such
a wealth of supported languages, the story of Nuna and Fox is being featured on
a truly international and multicultural platform. Additionally, eighty-four
percent of over two thousand user reviews of the game left positive recommendations
about their experience playing it. As the user "Burn" states in their review of
Never Alone on the Steam Store:
At first I complained
'this isn't a game, it's a short documentary,' but once I finished the game I
joyfully realized 'this isn't a game, it's a short documentary.' There should
be more educational games like this on the market! Stop the dragon slaying,
mercenary heroes, revenge and love stories and give me more games about real
people, their lives and their culture ("Burn" 2015)
Albeit
one-dimensional in its analysis of Never
Alone as strictly an "educational game," user Burn highlights something
that many other reviewers, both positive and negative, fail to address in their
criticisms about their experience with the game. Statements like those made by
user "ForestLily418" who states: "I was so excited when my friend bought me
this game... However, I cannot recommend this game as it is hardly what I'd call
playable. The glitches are rampant and the controls are terrible," and user "vladeck2204"
who echoes "[b]eautiful idea let down by unresponsive controls. At one point
the game turns from pure enjoyment to pure frustration," simply focusing on the
game's mechanical shortcomings and not on the exceptional narrative of the game
itself (ForestLily418 2015) (vladeck2204 2015). When talking about the global
culture of videogaming today, it is so important to consider the reception that
games get in a multinational market. With an eighty-four percent positivity
score, Never Alone succeeds in
immersing the living culture of the Iñupiat directly into the homes of gamers
from all over the world.
Both Nuna and Fox
evade the Northern Lights together (Upper One Games LLC, 2014).
So why is there so
much praise for a game that has its fair share of mechanical bugs and a simple
story? Although Never Alone is indeed
gorgeous in its visual effects and riveting in its various educational aspects,
the game helps to break down real life barriers that tropes of Indigenous
peoples have created and that have existed in video game narratives since their
popularization. As of right now, the centres for video game development and
creation for mainstream consumers exist in metropolitan Japan and the
continental United States. Like the popular depictions of "Indians" through the
medium of film and Hollywood culture, damaging and stereotypical portrayals of
Indigenous peoples, primarily young women, have contributed to building a
tumultuous history in mainstream video game culture. The most infamous of these
games was published by Mistique in 1982, entitled Custer's Revenge, where "the goal of the game is to guide the
mostly naked general and his erect penis through an onslaught of arrows toward
a Native American woman named Revenge who is tied to a post on the far side of
the screen" to "even up an old score" by raping her (Shaw 20-21). As
conceptually heinous and unacceptable as this so-called "game" is, Custer's Revenge serves as an example of
the lengths that global video game culture has had to come in the past several
decades. Certainly, the climate of Indigenous presences in video gaming has
steadily become more representative of actual living and breathing Indigenous
communities by featuring Indigenous identities as the protagonists of
blockbuster titles such as Ubisoft's Assassin's
Creed III (2012) and Sucker Punch's inFamous:
Second Son (2014), but the overall trend of these one-dimensional,
masculine heroes in gaming does nothing but tokenize their identities as simple
plot devices. Through the active work of Indigenous-lead production companies
like Upper One Games, video games that centre the voices of Indigenous peoples
and their cultures move past what is portrayed by mainstream gaming companies
to show precisely how Indigenous communities are actively engaging with new
media to further their own peoples' needs and interests. Prevalent examples of
the important work that is currently being done by Indigenous game designers
include games like Otsì: Rise of the
Kanien'kehá:ka Legends (2009), a first-person perspective game with a
Mohawk protagonist that was developed by students at the Kahnawake Survival
School, as well as Minority Media's empathy game[2] titled Spirits of Spring (2014) that tells the
story of an Indigenous boy's journey to take a stand against bullying. Still, Never Alone separates itself by
featuring the young, female protagonist character of Nuna. The game is one of
the most recent, movement-leading examples of how Indigenous communities are
currently deconstructing the mainstream gaming industry's negative stereotypes
to serve their own purposes of cultural revitalization, intra-community
education for younger generations, and the re-education of the global gaming
public.
As we have previously
found through the close reading and subsequent analysis of Never Alone, it is hard to define its scope of influence as both an
aesthetically amazing, visually-based video game and a documentary through its
inclusion of the Cultural Insights portion of the project. It seems as though
both aspects have had varying impacts on the gaming community in that the
documentary-style Cultural Insights are trivialized as a backdrop to the
artistic quality of the in-game narrative, imagery, and characters. I propose
that this sort of mental separation between player reactions to the game are
problematic because it fails to see that Never
Alone is truly interconnected in its entirety. If this game is truly meant
to bring about an increased global awareness of Indigenous cultures from
Indigenous peoples themselves, the playable game and the Cultural Insights cannot
be judged separately. Ludology and Narratology are relatively new academic
fields that engage with the contention of mechanics and narrative within
videogaming.[3]
Harsha Walia's writings on art as activism in her book Undoing Border Imperialism rings true for this particular debate,
as Never Alone as a whole can be
thought of as one of the "creative tactics" she credits as holding incredible
power in social justice movements (Walia 177). Walia notes that "moving beyond
the regurgitation of dogma or circulation of petitions, the tactics of vibrant
social movements have included flash mobs, murals, performance, art, social
media," and other forms of nuanced creative work (Walia 177). Considering the
fact that the Iñupiat community has utilized the video game medium, foreign to
Indigenous community practices in many ways, their desire to represent
themselves within a genre that has done so much to erase Indigenous peoples as
a whole communicates how Never Alone
has the capability of subverting dominant narratives in meaningful ways. As it
is stated on the publishing company's website itself:
At Upper One Games,
we weave timeless, living stories into dynamic, engaging and fun games that
encourage discovery and exploration. We are confident our products will excite,
inspire and connect people throughout the world (Upper One Games 2014).
Certainly, the
purpose that Never Alone has been
meant to serve is embodied by the company's statement. But as a piece of
visual, interactive, educational, and narrative art, Never Alone also exists as a creative tactic for Iñupiat activist
work to be upheld in rewriting the script of damaging Indigenous
representations in video games.
Indigenous
communities only just beginning to explore the potential for video games to
communicate their teachings, worldviews, and issues relating to the concept of
Indigenous authenticity within this digital medium are often questioned. If
Indigenous literature has difficulty being duly recognized within a global
canon, how can forms of digital storytelling within video games like Never Alone be fully recognized as
Indigenous knowledge? Much like the debates of Indigenous authenticity within
literary discourse as exemplified by Jace Weaver (Cherokee), Craig Womack
(Creek-Cherokee), and Robert Warrior (Osage) in their book titled American Indian Literary Nationalism,
the written works of Indigenous peoples continue to be discredited of their
relevancy in expanding the global literary canon. I see much of the same
rhetoric happening in the production of Never
Alone in its contributions to the canon of videogaming today and the
boundaries its presentation oversteps in the preexisting definition of what
Indigenous peoples are supposed to look like when confined to a simple
portrayal within a video game. The remarks of Simon J. Ortiz (Acoma Pueblo) in
the closing chapter of the book deconstructs the idea of authenticity in
Indigenous literary expression as follows:
Along with their
native languages, Indian women and men have carried on their lives and
expressions through the use of the newer languages... it is entirely possible for
people to retain and maintain their lives through the use of any language.
There is not a question of authenticity here; rather, it is the way that Indian
people have creatively responded to forced colonization. And this response has
been one of resistance (Ortiz 257).
The
two heroes brave the frigid arctic waters (Upper One Games LLC, 2014).
Parallels between
literary and video game discourses are certainly bridged by the presentation of
oral history that is a living part of Never
Alone's Iñupiat community. Not only is the story of Nuna and Fox relevant
in representing Indigenous peoples on their own terms for their own motives,
the entirety of Never Alone serves as
a foundational building block in cementing Indigenous presences within video
gaming on the terms of Indigenous communities themselves. The discussion of
Indigenous literary nationalism can be applied to further encompass Indigenous
oral histories that are not relegated to a sequence of words on paper. Never Alone does its storytelling
through the actions, expressions, and exclamations of the story's characters
alongside the game's breathtaking visuals, soundscape, narration, and Cultural
Insights strategically placed throughout. More spaces can and must be made for
Indigenous communities to engage and experiment in creative media to tell their
stories for the world to hear.
Reimaging
Indigenous Futures in Videogaming
Never Alone (Kisima Ingitchuna) is a game that holds a very near
and dear place to my heart. It is my hope that I have been able to communicate
some of the most significant aspects of its narrative as Iñupiat oral tradition
through my close reading and analysis, as well as its presentation as a
globally-marketed video game through my additional reflections on its position
within the discourse of Indigenous videogaming. As an Indigenous gamer myself,
I recognize the need for games like this to exist in other communities and it
fills me with joy knowing that this is only one of the very significant first
steps in getting more Indigenous storytellings into the hands of gamers
worldwide. I also recognize the value in now having something tangible that the
Iñupiat community can take back to their youth to spark opportunities for
educating the next generation that will immerse themselves in and learn from
video game narratives. Growing up, I was only able to access the stereotypical
portrayals of Indigenous peoples through mainstream video games while also
being heavily influenced by American and Japanese cultural motifs found within
those games. Through a recent discussion with a colleague I was asked the following
question that has stuck in my mind ever since: "What would you think of this
game if you played it growing up?" I wish that I could have an answer to that
right now, but all I know is what I am aware of in the here and now. What I
know is that the significance of Never
Alone in its ability to carry on Indigenous knowledge through a digital
medium is an invitation for further cross-cultural sharing between Indigenous
game creators and players from all walks of life. There is profound power that
has only recently become unlocked through the work of communities like the
Iñupiat of Northern Alaska; allowing more potential for cultural education,
cultural tolerance, and cultural revitalization.
Maize Longboat, University of British
Columbia