It has been a while since I played video games, probably one of my all-time favourite hobbies. In my vacation back home, I had the chance to relive some of my childhood memories by revisiting certain video games that magnetised me back in the day. But his time, after getting entangled and engaged with narrative perspective on a research level, I could not resist of looking at the aspect of who is telling the story in those games.
When you step into the world of a video game, you’re not just playing—you’re stepping into a story, living it, shaping it, and sometimes rewriting it. The unique magic of video games lies in their ability to intertwine the player’s actions with the narrative. Unlike books or films, where the story is presented to the audience, video games place the audience at the helm, turning them into storytellers themselves. Yet, this storytelling is not entirely free; it is guided, often subtly, by the positioning of the camera.
Growing up, I played Darkwood and Assassin’s Creed, two games that couldn’t be more different in philosophy, genre, and experience. Darkwood, a survival horror game, captivated me with its haunting atmosphere and sense of vulnerability, while Assassin’s Creed offered a sprawling, immersive and open world where I could climb towering buildings and rewrite history with my blade. Despite their differences, both games left me thinking about how their stories were told—not just through dialogue or plot but through what the camera allowed me to see and how I chose to use it. Years later, as I delved into narratology and focalization, I found myself returning to these games with new questions: How does the camera shape the way we experience their stories? How does it guide what we perceive and understand?
In narratology, focalization refers to the perspective through which a narrative is presented. In traditional storytelling, it often depends on the narrator or a narrative lens. But in video games, the player takes on the role of the focalizer. The tool, or in other words the medium which he/she uses to tell the story is the camera. As a tool, camera assists the player to explore the game’s world and uncover its narrative. Just as movies tell stories by showing only what the camera sees (or hears), video games rely on the camera to frame the possibilities of what the player can observe. However, the storytelling power lies with the player, who actively chooses where to look, where to go, and what actions to take, shaping their own experience of the narrative.
This dynamic places the player in a dual role: both the storyteller and the audience. The camera doesn’t dictate the story but instead offers a framework within which the player exercises agency. Through choices, exploration, and interactions, players craft their own version of the narrative, moving the story forward in ways that reflect their priorities and curiosity, and essentially receiving a story that they want to hear or fit their own personal beliefs, needs, and desires.
Reflecting on my own experiences, I realized that this player-driven storytelling is what makes video games so compelling. In Darkwood, I controlled the camera to cautiously peer into the shadows, heightening the tension of the unknown. In Assassin’s Creed, I shifted perspectives to take in sweeping landscapes or focus on precise movements during combat. The choices I made with the camera were just as much a part of the storytelling as the game’s dialogue or design. This inspired me to revisit these games not just as entertainment but as fascinating examples of how focalization works when the player becomes the storyteller, using the camera to navigate, interpret, and ultimately shape the narrative.
In video games, the positioning of the camera is more than a technical feature; it is a narrative tool that shapes how the story unfolds and how players engage with it. Unlike traditional storytelling mediums where the narrative perspective is fixed, video games give players the power to manipulate their point of view. This dynamic interplay between camera positioning and player agency creates a unique form of storytelling where the player actively constructs their experience of the narrative.
At the heart of this lies the concept of focalization—the perspective through which the narrative world is filtered. In games, the camera serves as the medium through which the player accesses this world, but the player controls the lens, choosing what to focus on and how to interact with their surroundings. This flexibility can deepen immersion or introduce tension, depending on how the game uses the camera to shape the player's perception.
For example, a first-person perspective places players directly into the shoes of the character, offering an intimate and immersive experience. The player sees and experiences the world exactly as the character does, creating a strong emotional connection. In contrast, a third-person perspective steps back, offering a broader view of the character and their surroundings. This perspective allows players to feel more like directors of the narrative, orchestrating actions while still engaging with the story emotionally. Meanwhile, top-down perspectives, like those in certain strategy, prioritize a sense of control and detachment, encouraging players to focus on planning.
But it’s not just the angle of the camera that matters; it’s how the game integrates the camera into its storytelling design. Games like Darkwood use restricted fields of view to heighten vulnerability and suspense, while Assassin’s Creed employs expansive third-person views to emphasize freedom and exploration. In both cases, the player is invited to take ownership of the narrative, navigating the game world and uncovering its story based on the choices they make.
The relationship between camera positioning and storytelling is a dance of guidance and agency. The game sets the stage, but the player decides where to look, what to prioritize, and how to interact. This balance between what the game offers and what the player does defines the storytelling experience, making each player’s journey unique. As we’ll see in the case studies of Darkwood and Assassin’s Creed, the camera doesn’t just show the story—it invites the player to shape it.
Darkwood
Darkwood is a survival horror game set in a mysterious, nightmarish forest filled with hostile creatures, eerie anomalies, and unsettling inhabitants. Players assume the role of a nameless protagonist trapped in this grim world, where daylight offers limited reprieve from the horrors that emerge at night. The primary goal is to explore, scavenge for resources, fortify shelters, and survive the nightly onslaught of dark forces. Along the way, players encounter enigmatic characters such as The Wolfman and The Musician, each harboring cryptic motives and adding layers of intrigue to the game’s grim narrative. With no clear hero or villain, Darkwood challenges players to navigate both external dangers and the psychological toll of isolation.
Darkwood is a game that thrives on its ability to unsettle and immerse, and much of this is achieved through its top-down perspective. At first glance, this camera position might seem impersonal, providing a detached bird’s-eye view of the game world. Yet, in Darkwood, this detachment is precisely what amplifies the horror. The game cleverly restricts what the player can see, creating an oppressive sense of vulnerability. Shadows loom, and the edges of the screen fade into darkness, leaving the player uncertain of what lies just out of sight.
In Darkwood, the top-down camera view works intricately with a "fog of war" mechanic, creating a balance between discovery and mystery that heightens the tension of the game. The fog of war limits the protagonist's awareness to only what is visible within their immediate field of view (FOV). As players explore the eerie forest, landmarks such as a fallen tree near a rock by a stream become etched into the protagonist’s memory, represented visually on the map. However, this memory is static—changes like the arrival of dark creatures or shifts in the landscape remain unknown until the FOV returns to that location, keeping the protagonist in unsettling ignorance of real-time events in their surroundings.
This interplay becomes even more intense during the night, when survival depends on vigilance and avoiding the deadly threats lurking in the dark. The player can sense movement beyond their view, such as a chair scraping the floor or a table shifting position—clear signs of an unseen intruder nearby. The inability to directly see these threats, while knowing they are dangerously close, amplifies the game’s horror elements. This same mechanic plays out in battles and exploration, reinforcing a sense of vulnerability and dread that keeps players on edge. The strategic use of FOV and fog of war in Darkwood is a masterful design choice, enhancing both the narrative immersion and psychological tension of the game.
This limitation mirrors the core themes of the game: survival, isolation, and fear of the unknown. By choosing where to direct their vision within this confined view, players become active participants in the storytelling. Every movement of the camera, every glance into the darkness, becomes a narrative decision, and at the same time, not checking your back reassures you that there is something out there that is after you! Do you cautiously inspect a faint noise coming from the trees, risking exposure to danger, or do you focus on fortifying your shelter for the night? These choices, driven by the player’s manipulation of the camera, determine how the story unfolds, creating a deeply personal narrative experience.
The focalization in Darkwood is intensely player-driven, with the game offering only the barest hints of its larger story. Much of the narrative emerges through environmental storytelling—objects, settings, and cryptic interactions that the player pieces together. The top-down perspective heightens this sense of discovery while also instilling a pervasive fear of the unseen. The camera doesn’t just show the story; it invites the player to navigate its fragmented world and fill in the gaps, crafting their own version of Darkwood’s haunting tale.
In this way, Darkwood exemplifies how camera positioning can profoundly affect the storytelling experience. The player, by choosing where to look and what actions to take, becomes both the focalizer and the storyteller, forging a narrative shaped by curiosity, caution, and the ever-present dread of the unknown.
Assassin’s Creed
The Assassin’s Creed series blends historical fiction with action-adventure gameplay, immersing players in richly detailed recreations of pivotal eras across history—from the Crusades and the Italian Renaissance to Ancient Egypt and beyond. Players step into the role of Assassins locked in an age-old conflict with the Templars, shaping world events through stealth, combat, and exploration. Historical figures such as Leonardo da Vinci, Cleopatra, and George Washington often appear, woven seamlessly into the game’s alternative retelling of history where personal choice and shadowy intrigue drive the narrative, in fact, the player is called to rewrite the history from the perspective of the protagonist!
The Assassin’s Creed series offers a striking contrast to Darkwood, presenting a narrative experience defined by freedom, exploration, and grandeur. The third-person perspective employed across the series places the camera at a comfortable distance from the protagonist, allowing the player to observe not just the character but also their surroundings in vivid detail. This perspective embodies the essence of Assassin’s Creed: a story not confined to a single individual but deeply rooted in the broader context of history, society, and architecture.
From the rooftops of Renaissance Florence to the deserts of Ancient Egypt, the camera’s positioning invites players to immerse themselves in vast, meticulously crafted worlds. Unlike the constrained and claustrophobic view in Darkwood, the wide field of view in Assassin’s Creed encourages exploration and discovery. Players are free to scale towering structures, glide through bustling marketplaces, or gaze across breathtaking landscapes. The camera becomes a tool for narrative expansion, allowing the player to connect with the environment and feel like an active participant in shaping history.
This perspective also influences the way focalization works in the series, if you combine it with the philosophy behind the game. The player is placed in a “memory machine” called Animus, where we as player have access to the actual historical ancestor of the player. So, what we as players experience are the actual events, actions, dialogues, etc that took place in the past, and we see them through the eyes (more precisely the memory) of the protagonist. While the game’s overarching narrative is delivered through cutscenes and missions, the player’s control of the camera allows them to craft their own stories within the world. Do you spend time climbing the highest point of a cathedral just to take in the view? Do you follow a mysterious NPC through the crowded streets, curious about their destination? These moments, dictated by the player’s use of the camera, create layers of narrative that go beyond the scripted plot, essentially making the player the historian of the ancient world!
Moreover, the third-person perspective fosters a sense of duality in the storytelling. On one hand, players identify with the protagonist, sharing in their struggles and triumphs. On the other, the camera’s distance positions the player as an observer, like a historian piecing together fragments of the past and narrating his story, placed by the protagonist’s side. This dual role aligns perfectly with the series’ central theme: the interplay between memory, history, and identity.
Through its expansive use of the camera, Assassin’s Creed demonstrates how positioning can shape a narrative’s tone and scope. While the game provides a richly detailed framework, it is the player’s exploration, curiosity, and choices that breathe life into the story, making it their own.
The way video games use camera positioning to shape storytelling is a fascinating intersection of technology, design, and narrative theory. From the oppressive top-down perspective of Darkwood, which traps players in a world of fear and uncertainty, to the sweeping third-person vistas of Assassin’s Creed, which empower players to explore and rewrite history, the camera plays a pivotal role in defining the player’s experience.
Yet, as we’ve seen, the camera alone does not tell the story—the player does. By choosing where to look, what to explore, and how to interact with the game world, players take on the role of storyteller, crafting their own narrative within the boundaries set by the game. This dynamic collaboration between game design and player agency makes video game narratives uniquely personal and endlessly varied.
But what do you think? Have you noticed how camera positioning affects your experience in the games you’ve played? Does it shape how you connect with the story, the characters, or the world itself? Perhaps your favorite game approaches focalization in a way that’s entirely different from these examples.
[The introductory image was generated with deepai, and the various in-game screenshots were taken from Google images.]
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