In the face of cinema, television and other art media, video games are developing into a formidable rival.

So it’s strange to see how the current industry is almost operating at two different levels. First, there are the romantic comedies of the video game industry; this year’s version of Madden NFL, for example, was a commercial success. It isn’t an outstanding drama with Oscar worthy performances, but it is entertaining. A game like Metroid: Other M, however, tells a story, and boasts superb visual and sound content found in more established forms of media. Unfortunately, because it is a video game, it does not garner the same recognition and respect.

Therefore, the big question is: Are video games an art form? Will critics ever look upon game of the year as they do best picture?

Back in April of this year, the online debate ignited in an infamous blog post – currently at 4,696 comments – by Roger Ebert, the long-time movie critic and, to detractors, pre-historic media curmudgeon. Ebert, effectively digging his own grave in a debate against the collective internet population, argued that “in principle, video games can never be art.”

A few months later Ebert responded to the ensuing frenzy conceding that he should not have judged the medium without experience. Ebert, admittedly, never played a video game. Subsequently, he “had to be prepared to agree that gamers can have an experience that, for them, is Art.”

Now, the debate over whether or not a certain medium can be classified as art is largely based on one’s personal beliefs. Is Piranha 3D art? What about Cats? The orchestral soundtrack to Family Guy? Lego sculptures of Morgan Freeman fighting a shark? That’s all up to the individual viewer to decide.

In the twenty-first century, the guidelines for what qualifies as art are expanding. Although the likes of Shakespeare, Mozart, and Curtiz will not be pushed out of the limelight, they no longer hold the monopoly. It will certainly be difficult for interactive software enthusiasts to counter games like Mother 3 or Legend of Zelda with the theatrical, cinematic, and musical greats of eras past. Despite their cult followings, most people have never played them.

Most people have at least heard of, if not seen, the best movies and know about the best books. Yet, most people haven’t heard of Shadow of the Colossus or Silent Hill; games that could pass as movies, if only they were under two hours and didn’t involve playing. Most people have never seen a video game with in-depth dialogue, atmosphere, setting, character development, beloved soundtracks or deep, engrossing story lines. Most people know the classic character Mario jumps, and that you can kill people in Grand Theft Auto. They are simply discarded by the experts and parents as a waste of time for kids.

It’s understandable that many people haven’t been exposed to video games, but a lack of familiarity should not be cause to exclude them from merit. At the same time, how many people have gone to an opera in the past week? My guess is far fewer then the number of people who currently subscribe to World of Warcraft (over 11.5 million).

Interestingly, video games have caught the attention of some colleges and universities. Take, for example, Wabash College in Indiana. The game Portal is part of the incoming freshman class’ required “reading” at the school. It’s currently listed as a supplement to Presentation of Self in Everyday Life by Erving Goffman. Furthermore, entire classes are now based around the education effects of video games. The University of Florida is currently offering a brand new online course this semester: 21st Century Skills in Starcraft. The course is focused around the strategy game’s resource management system. In addition, the University of California at Berkley once offered a class on teaching students how to play the game competitively.

Should the average video game skeptic give them the chance that academia has? Is Zelda as interesting a protagonist as Scout? I’m convinced there is a game out there for everyone. But is the typical mother or grandparent as willing to sit down and play Okami as they would be willing to read Of Mice and Men? Is the cultural divide too vast? Simultaneously, am I all the worse off for preferring the aesthetics of Final Fantasy VI than the eloquent prose of To Kill a Mockingbird? The debate may long continue, but I shall remain the indelible advocate for this often pilloried medium.

Nick O’Malley is a Collegian columnist. He can be reached at [email protected].