PRESS FWD: PIXELS TO POWER

Ever since “Tennis for Two” (or Computer Tennis) paved the way for revolutionary computer games,[1] video games have often mirrored and, at times, distorted the societies that produced them. Among these mirrors and distortions is the role of women in video games. From the famous and controversial “Lara Croft” (Tomb Raider)[2] to Princess Peach (Super Mario Bros.)[3], women were once relegated to the role of damsels, sidekicks, prizes or background scenery, never having true agency. Although there were instances in the past of resistance against this notion, the real surge in well-written characters appear to be in recent years. In our contemporary, in games such as “The Last of Us Part II,” “Mirror’s Edge” and others, gamers are able to experience fully-fledged female protagonists with depth, thought-provoking insights and more. In this way, the story of women in gaming reflects both the progress we have achieved and the regressions of the past (and the present) in regard to broader gender politics. When talking about women in gaming, one must talk about the struggle for visibility, dignity and agency; the struggle for a voice in a medium dominated by males for decades. In writing this thought piece, I hope to paint the broader scene of gaming from its dawn to today and the place of women within it.

The Early Pixels: Damsels, Tropes and Clichés

As previously mentioned, female representation in the 80s and 90s, during the rising years of gaming, was limited. Famous characters include Peach, Pauline and Zelda, none of which were subjects in their own narratives. The characters were defined entirely by their captivity and seen as “prizes,” waiting to be “captured” or “freed” by the male heroes. The infamous “damsel in distress” trope seen in all forms of media sidelined women in gaming and reinforced the idea that female characters only existed as objects to motivate the male characters and players. Furthermore, even when women were playable, (that is, even when they were the main characters,) they were coded through the “male gaze:” impractical outfits, hypersexualized bodies and personalities that were as thin as their clothes. The most famous female protagonist of videogames in the 90s, Lara Croft, who is the face of the multi-billion dollar franchise “Tomb Raider”[4] embodied this contradiction. Lara was written to be a powerful, independent heroine following in the steps of her father who was an archaeologist, but she was designed to appeal to the male fantasy: her body was exaggerated into caricature. This phenomenon was supported by game developers and gamers alike. In 1997, a rumour originated that there was a “cheat code” players could input using their controllers to turn Lara nude. The so called “cheat” became a well-known “easter egg” and the talking point of many magazines, despite not being real.[5]

Breaking the Framing Narrative: Women as Fully-Fledged Protagonists

Despite the contradiction and just like reality, resistance in the gaming space has always existed. “Metroid,” (1986) an action-adventure game developed by Nintendo, challenged the notion that power belonged to the male main characters in the gaming sphere with its reveal of the main character, Samus Aran, as female.[6] In the coming years, this notion would be supported by characters such as Jade in “Beyond Good & Evil,” Alyx Vance in “Half-Life 2” (returning later as the main character of “Half-Life: Alyx” or Clementine in “The Walking Dead” (also returning in later installments as the protagonist.) Developers had begun to recognize women not only as caricatures but as human beings. This pushback increased in the 2010s-20s when we witnessed a complete turnaround of what Women characters in gaming meant. Titles like “The Last of Us Part II,” “Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice” and “Control” rooted women as leads with depth, trauma and agency. The characters became more than token inclusions; they had their own stories with depth and gravitas.

Toward Feminist Futures in Gaming

The continuation of this positive change requires a more progressive vision for the world of gaming. As such, we must question the very systems that perpetuate these inequalities. Why do development studios and their most critical parts remain male-dominated at the leadership level? Why are queer women and trans women still rare in mainstream narratives? Representation must go hand-in-hand with structural transformation to not be superficial and have the true power of change. Questioning these “truths” is the way to proceed if we are to challenge ourselves for better tomorrows.

In this juxtaposition, the promise of gaming lies in its ability to let us inhabit other worlds, identities and stories as our own. If we can pilot starships, slay dragons, bend time and space, change the course of history in fiction thanks to videogames… why would we not be able to model liberation, solidarity and feminist futures within them? Indie creators are already pushing the boundaries on this end with titles like “Deltarune,” “Gone Home” and “If Found.” These installments show what it looks like when women’s experiences are treated not as accessories but as central narratives that hold the keys to their stories. Mainstream studios must follow, not simply with token inclusions or by virtue signaling but in genuine effort.

[1] “Tennis for Two,” designed by William Higinbotham, is recognized as the first-ever computer game.

 Donovan, Tristan (2010-04-20). Replay: The History of Video Games. Yellow Ant. pp. 1–9.

[2] McLaughlin, Rus (29 February 2008). retro.ign.com/articles/856/856183p1.html

[3] “Super Mario Bros. Instruction Booklet” by Nintendo Entertainment System America https://www.nintendo.co.jp/clv/manuals/en/pdf/CLV-P-NAAAE.pdf

[4] https://www.tombraider.com/news/video-games/tomb-raider-iv-vi-remastered-reveal-100-million-games-sold-and-more

[5] https://www.virtuallara.com/nude-cheat.html

[6] Shoemaker, Brad. “The History of Metroid” GameSpot.