Japanese Characters: More than Just "Cute"
Anyone who's been to Japan can tell you that characters appear everywhere: billboards, TV, clothes, trains, food (and not just the packaging, but often the food inside, too) -- anywhere you can imagine.
You can even find them in situations that in America might be considered slightly inappropriate, such as a flyer I saw that proclaimed something along the lines of "Let's reduce the number of suicides!" with a boy and cute green creature raising their fists in smiling determination.
In America, Japanese characters like Mario, Hello Kitty, and the various Pokémon are, while popular, sometimes put down for being child-like or simplistic. Personally, I have always had a soft spot for them, but I didn't think they were reflective of anything more than an aesthetic that I happened to like. Little did I know that characters in Japan wield great power, both in terms of money and as an important element in popular media like video games.
The huge demand for and production of characters constitutes what is essentially a character industry; video game, anime, manga, and merchandise companies work together in close coordination to create spin-offs, crossovers, and various products based around popular characters. This is referred to as "media mix" in Japan, roughly equivalent to "transmedia" in the West. Through these collaborations, a character from a successful manga series, for example, can end up bringing in far more money than what's genrated by sales of the original manga itself.
 The Pokémon Train
Hello Kitty rice balls
 At Kyoto Seika, my classmates were very much aware that creating popular characters was a crucial part of the manga-making process, and, as you can imagine, skilled character designers in Japan are highly valued. There are artists like Kosuke Fujishima of the Tales of series of RPGs and Metal Gear's Yoji Shinkawa (a Kyoto Seika alumnus whose iconic art is seen to the left), who have achieved great fame and recognition thanks in large part to their work designing characters. Artists such as these have their work featured in exhibitions, and can sell expensive art books of their sketches and designs.
The Making of Japanese Characters
What then is special about these characters? What qualities, if any, do they share? Some people may be familiar with the term kawaii, which is usually rendered in English as "cute," and is often used to describe characters. Actually, it is not as simple as just being "cute"; my understanding of kawaii characters is that they are expressive, endearing, and easy-to-read. Large heads and eyes, simple, colorful designs, and exaggerated emotional reactions are some recurring stylistic elements of kawaii characters.
A term less well known in the West which is also very important is sonzaikan, which literally translates to "the feeling that something exists." In terms of characters, it means that they seem real -- not necessarily that they are just like real people with complex personalities, but more that they feel full of life, and provoke an emotional response from the viewer. In this way, people can feel a personal connection with their favorite characters, almost as if they were real friends.
In practice, then, how do designers make these kinds of characters? Ian Condry, a cultural anthropologist and professor at MIT, describes one example in his paper, Anime Creativity: Characters and Premises in the Quest for Cool Japan. There, he interviews m&k, the design team who created the characters for a popular animated show called Dekoboko and Friends.
[T]hey developed the characters by "auditioning" about 60 of them, that is, drawing up a wide range and selecting from them. "We avoided average characters, and aimed instead for those who were in some way unbalanced," he explained... The creators also didn't start with the visual image of the character, but instead thought in terms of a character's distinctive flavor (mochiaji) or special skill (tokugi)... "[T]he personality (kyara) precedes the character itself, evoking the feeling of some kind of existence (sonzaikan) or life force (seimeikan)"... When m&k selected characters from among the many they auditioned, they emphasized the extreme: one character is extremely shy, another extremely speedy, another is an elegant older woman who sings traditional sounding songs, another is so big he can't fit through the door.
In other words, each character is defined by a simple concept, which in turn determines both their behavior and appearance. The result is that, though simplistic, each character feels likable and real, as reflected by the show's popularity.
 Dekoboko and Friends
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Even thinking about it just a little bit, it's easy to find this in action. Look at GTA 3 versus, say, Shenmue. They were released at almost the same time, and they are trying to be very different games, so that explains a lot of their design differences, but one thing they have in common is that they are both trying to evoke a living city. GTA does it with breadth - the entire city is before you and all the streets and all the places they lead to. But GTA sacrifices detail - none of the NPCs have any personality or life and you can't enter any buildings. Shenmue, on the other hand, presents only a few streets but rendered with painstaking detail. The player then should understand that there is a whole city just as intricate as this, even though you don't get to go there.
I like that myself but I'm not sure if it plays as well to a general audience in the West. Does understanding or enjoying that style require a particular mode of thought?
I think that trying to recreate the real world in all its wide open complexity is a ludicrous and impossible goal, so for me a game like GTA or Skyrim is destined to fall short. The imagination is far more powerful than any computer processor, so a game that successfully makes me imagine a world is always going to be more fun.
I think, generally speaking, game developers ought to look to other forms of popular media instead of trying to reinvent the wheel. I haven't encountered many programs that require that sort of engagement or comparison.
As far as the article goes, I feel like you are saying a lot of these things don't exist in the west, like the character management, but it definitely does.
I think the japanese world concepts themselves appear original because of the cultural difference. You've been inundated with western mythology and hero sagas since birth so they all seem old and dull to you.
BUT, there is just objectively more imagination and consideration of the world-that-is-created in Japan. When was the last time you heard someone talking about how a game did such a great job of creating an interesting world? I've heard a few people say stuff like that in America, but it is commonplace in Japan to a degree that's not comparable to America, with a far greater awareness that the game/manga/whatever is creating a its own little world.
In America what's valued is being similar to reality (able to be rationally explained in detail), and usually when people compliment a game's world they mean that it feels realistic.
In Japan when people compliment the "sekaikan," they don't mean that it feels just like the real world, they mean that it feels like its own little interesting world, engaging on its own terms and separate from the real world.
That's my understanding of it at least. And I love the visual style, too!
I know a lot of white Americans like you who love Japan and its culture, and have lived there and taught English there and all that stuff. And their knowledge of the interesting fiction in America is basically nil. And I suspect that yours is, too. Not an insult, just a commonality in my experience with nihonophiles.
Just as an example here are 10 worlds you've probably never heard of:
Velgarth
Xanth
Lether
The Land
Darkover
Pern
Rokanan
Hyperion
Terminal World
The Golden Hour
And yes those are all names of planetary or solar bodies used ass settings.
I would also argue that the very strangeness of Japanese fantasy worlds compared to ours makes it easier for you to perceive them as their own thing. The concept of the uncanny valley can be applied to world building as well.
(I do, however, agree with what you said about a general ignorance of foreign fiction elitists about some of the West's own very compelling characters and worlds. Though whether Mr. Wood falls into that category one cannot judge here.)
It seems to me that in the creation of games there is a sort of conviction on the part of Western writers/designers that the realer a game is (physically) with respect to our world, then the realer the emotions it can convey to players. This is, in my opinion, not only a false point of view but a constricting one.
Games, like written literature and animated works, have the special opportunity to reach into areas of the unreal that media like live-action cinema and television cannot breach, and to shape and pull from the unreal a whole new set of meaningful experiences and emotions. WHY ON EARTH would we ever want to bar ourselves from that? Of course there are plenty of games whose success depends on their verisimilitude, but very rarely are those the kinds of games that want to take advantage of a deep, engaging gameworld anyway.
Of course I always hesitate to write stuff like this because there are plenty of developers out there who do make awesome, creative, compelling worlds. But for the most part I agree with Mr. Wood in that there is something fundamentally different in the way characters and worlds are designed in Western video games.
I think what you (Mr. Wood) say about game worlds being "more than meets the eye" is of vital importance. Too often I feel in Western games the the creative boundaries of the game world I'm in are one and the same as its physical (i.e. programming) boundaries. That is to say, it feels like there is nothing beyond the one narrow circumstantial world that I progress through as the protagonist(s). I want game worlds that extend in time and space infinitely away from my character, where I can imagine other whole other histories and futures (of characters, places, even philosophies) being played out.
As a recently graduated creative writer myself hoping to make it into the industry, I have high (and incredibly unrealistic, but whatever) hopes that I can bring some of this passion about the creative world to video games. I will definitely stay tuned to this new blog, Mr. Wood. Thanks for the great article (which I've already shared with a bunch of friends to articulate some of my own feelings on the subject).
In Japan, imagined new worlds and characters are more a part of mainstream popular culture. That doesn't mean that creators in Japan have more or better imagination, they just have more freedom and opportunity to use their imagination in comics, animation, video games, and character design. Honestly I envy that, and I have heard other creators voice similar feelings.
I do think that things are changing in America, but in general, the more "like reality" and "able to be explained in real-life terms" something is, the better it is considered. I believe that this is limiting to American creators across the board, as Gregory Foster touched on. (I agree that science fiction is one bright point of imagination in America, but it is just not comparable to the mainstream acceptance of imaginative manga, animation, and video games in Japan. Western "Fantasy" is for the most part far from fantastical, sadly.)
On his other point, of course unfamiliar or "exotic" things are more stimulating to the imagination (that's true for everyone), and I do have a personal preference for things made in Japan- but regardless of my personal biases, there are also real differences at work, which I tried to highlight in the article.
@Zack
I think this is exactly right. American audiences value a literal concept of realism in all their media. The example I refer to all the time is Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. There are certain people you meet who just will not put up with that movie because the characters leaping, running on walls, and performing great feats of martial arts are "so unrealistic." When I hear people say this, I feel like I was born in the wrong country.
I think where that diverges from games is with the characters, who in western linear story telling, very much have lives before the story starts and beyond it's end. Like the world, that is what gives them their depth, but it also makes them belong to the world, rather than the world belong to them. (i.e. they can't easily step out of it and into other media).
That I think is why it'd be so jarring to have Bilbo Baggins tell you to get checked for testicular cancer or somesuch, yet you can successfully spin off a minor character from the original story and set them on their own adventure in the same world
But what I was trying to describe is an approach that focuses on tying together all elements of a game to create an atmosphere. A logical, detailed explanation isn't necessary for that at all. I'm not sure there IS an explanation for half the things in Paladin's Quest.
What it requires is vision, design sense, and intuition. That's why I think we need more creative visionaries in the game industry, not just highly rational programmer types (no offense to programmers).
In the last couple weeks I've started seriously falling down the rabbit hole of programming and now video game design - I'm a complete and utter noob at both with a deep background in literature and writing.
I took a lot of notes from your article that will help me wrap my head around certain types of players and how to creative a narrative that's organically true to gameplay :) I love your explanation of the uncanny & recognizable, "real" characters in games, plus the "more than meets the eye" that can be subtly built out in a world. Exciting to see all of this so embedded in Japanese culture!
You're the 1st article I've read on Gamasutra, so thanks so much again.
I guess I'll ask a question to keep the ball rolling: Does Japan have a game development stance regarding a player's 'meta-journey'? Apologies as I probably don't know the right terminology...By Player's Meta-Journey, I mean the full experience or arc a player can experience from playing a game, during a single session or the whole game through?
Like on one hand you see an anime like FMA, which seems so rich and expansive and compelling. But then you have like Final Fantasy XIII which is packed with weird convoluted terminology like "Sin" and "Fal'cei," but it doesn't really gel into anything. Its almost like the ugly side of the Japanese style of world creation.
I'm so envious of your exchange with Hidenori Shibao! Legend of Legaia was one of the more memorable Playstation RPG's I've played, but I never thought to check if he made games on SNES. Now I definitely need to find myself copies of the Lennus games, as Legend of Legaia's combination of spirit collection and a unique combat system set it apart from other JRPG's of that generation.
And now to check out that blog of yours.
I actually found Legaia by searching for other games made by Shibao! Those are the only series he's ever been involved with, apparently.
And really glad to hear how the article resonated with you! Let me know what you think of the blog.
Nice to see you cover Hidenori Shibao and his work, since I've been speaking with him recently for a project I'm working on. He's been involved with some fascinating things over the years (did he mention his Super Monkey Daibouken guide?). This Gama entry, in addition to the other detailing Paladin's Quest, has encouraged me to track down and play through both Lennus games. Previously I'd played "the FEAR", on which Hidenori was a scenario writer. The two Lennus RPGs look exquisite though.
Thank you for the write up - it's been most informative!
I haven't played Panzer Dragoon, but I've wanted to ever since I found out that my favorite artist, Moebius AKA Jean Giraud, did the concept art for one of them.
Your article made me think about the relationship between Western RPG fans and their perception of JRPGs. Particularly how common gripes that Westerners have with JRPGS seem to be the exact opposite of what they are trying to achieve. Take for example Kelly's definitions of storysense and character establishment and your proposal that Japanese characters fit this definition well. JRPG critics often satirize those games for what they believe are unnecessarily convoluted plots or characters (I've had a friend try to sit me down and explain Bleach to me once and I was more confused than when I left). I can see how characters like Link or Mario can fill this role since they are inherently simple (and maybe being mute helps with that), but when you get into say, the Final Fantasy or Tales of series, the characters and story feel anything but simple.
Another common criticism of JRPGs would be what I guess you could call the lack of sekaikan. To a Western gamer, the Fallout or Elder Scrolls series seem to have more of "world feel" than a JRPG simply because WRPGs nowadays really emphasize sandbox gameplay whereas JRPGs seem to still focus on linear stories. Sure, I could go anywhere on a world map, but once I complete that area's purpose, it effectively feels dead and used up. Whereas if I went and played Skyrim, I could go to any town and it feel alive with NPCs running around and going about their business (though admittedly I still feel like those NPCs are ass deep in the uncanny value).
So I guess what I'm trying to say is are there nuances that you feel Western gamers are missing that lead to these common criticisms against Japanese games, particularly RPGs? On another slightly related note, out of curiosity, could you explain Asia's cultural preference for games that emphasize a grind? If a WRPG were to come out that still had blatant grinding it would get crucified by reviewers, though that still seems to be business as usual in Japan and Korea and I'm just curious why.
As far as JRPGs vs. Skyrim go, I feel like the world of Final Fantasy VII or Persona 3 are more alive than Tamriel, even though the latter is much bigger and full of NPCs running around. The province of Skyrim is fun to explore, but you soon recognize the characters' pattern. They have no personality and there is no life to them: they are simply plot devices (it would perhaps be more appropriate to call them quest devices here). In Persona 3, every character feels alive and has a deeper story you can experience if you so choose. It does feel like sekaikan is achieved better in a typical JRPG than it is in Skyrim. Clearly, though, it does not manage to keep their stories simple.