The magic circle, first coined by Johan Huizinga in 1938, is a metaphor for the space in which an individual plays a game. According to Huizinga, this magic circle is a temporary world that can be delineated both physically and mentally in order to mark the separate set of rules, customs, and boundaries associated with a specific game (Huizinga 1955). The metaphor has persisted so significantly that it was soon applied to the study of video games, where it remains a relevant notion (though not without its many critics).
When we first discussed the notion of the magic circle, I found myself thinking of the concept of the fourth wall. Like the magic circle, the idea of the fourth wall has been around far longer than video games (for centuries, in fact). The fourth wall was first applied in relation to action, and was a metaphor for the barrier between actors and their audience. The actors were expected to maintain this barrier by interacting only with their fictional, dramatic world in order to maintain a semblance of realism. Since then, the idea of the fourth wall has been applied to movies, shows, and video games. In regards to video games, the fourth wall is more complex. As video games inherently require interaction and the utilization of player mechanics (such as button pressing, using a joystick, selecting levels) that are not based in realism, it is harder to define when the fourth wall is explicitly broken. This negotiation of the limits of the fourth wall are certainly relevant to the boundaries of the magic circle. In one Game Developer article from 2009, blogger Steven Conway argues that so-called fourth wall breaks are actually just instances where the magic circle is extended or its boundaries re-structured.
One striking, if not necessarily subtle, example of a fourth wall break that explicitly renegotiates the magic circle that the player has entered is Sonic.EXE – The Game. This short, fan-made platformer was released in 2012 and was adapted from a creepypasta–a horror story that originates on the internet. The game is a fairly straight-forward perversion of the original Sonic; it uses levels from Sonic but adds pixelated gore and corpses, and Sonic has become a demonic and murderous entity who turns against other characters from the series such as Tails. However, about halfway through the game, something more unexpected happens. If the player chooses to move the avatar to the left instead of to the right, and then kills the avatar by jumping off the leftmost platform, the evil Sonic will respond directly to the player’s decisions, rather than the avatar’s. After the level restarts, the text on the screen reads, “You’re fun to play with, [player’s name].” Since there was no option to input any name, this sequence is shocking and inexplicable. By directly addressing the individual playing the game and revealing knowledge that seems impossible to have , the game threatens the gamer’s sense of safety in the real world and breaks down the boundaries of the magic circle by reversing the power dynamics usually present between player and game. Though a video game obviously cannot hurt a player, the game’s access to the player’s name brings up very real concerns of hacking, data theft, and computer viruses. In addition, for the generally young audience that played this game, Sonic addressing them by name may have felt like a very real threat on their safety and wellbeing–especially since the game was adapted from a story that described a corrupted Sonic haunting and wreaking havoc on individuals outside of the game world.
In reality, Sonic.EXE was neither a murderous spirit nor a piece of thieving malware. The file simply reads the username of whatever computer it is downloaded on, and then fills that name into the text. Though the game’s horror decreases significantly when its secret is known, other more complex games such as Undertale have used similar fourth wall breaks to call into question the boundaries of the magic circle and force the player to reckon with what their choices in the game say about who they are in the real world. However, such negotiations have almost come to be expected in intelligent video games, meaning their capacity for emotional impact is not as large as it once was. I’m excited to see how game developers meet this challenge, and expect to see various new and innovative methods of breaking the fourth wall in video games for years to come.
Bibliography:
Conway, Steven. “A Circular Wall? Reformulating the Fourth Wall for Video Games.” Game Developer. Informa PLC, 22 July 2009. https://www.gamedeveloper.com/design/a-circular-wall-reformulating-the-fourth-wall-for-video-games
Huizinga, Johan (1955): Homo Ludens. A Study of the Play Element in Culture, trans. by R.F.C. Hull, Boston: Beacon [1938].
I enjoy your discussion of this topic because I have always considered plow-throughs of the Fourth Wall to be among the most memorable moments of the video games they appear in. Just the slight acknowledgment of a real worldly concept within the bounds of the game tends to impress me, even more so when it is a carefully crafted story relying on understandings of the world we live in. Most of the examples I most fondly remember have a humorous tone in which characters request some sort of ridiculous favor, or make some sly comment on the state of the current level or even the game’s development. Others I can think of are not necessarily dialogue, but a task (a level in Super Paper Mario calls and requires you to grab a pen and pencil to write down a ~20 digit code). Your example of an evil Sonic menacingly calling out the player and impeding on their sense of security has entirely different consequences than the cases I most typically think of. Rather than eliciting a quick laugh or moment of increased understanding of the game’s world and systems, this situation makes you genuinely worried for a moment that your antivirus software is not good enough. It is very fun to think about how developers will continue to push these boundaries in order to make the player connect more with the game, and I also think these Fourth Wall breaks will find more ways of activating the players to do and think about things in more direct relation to our real world.
I like the idea of The Magic Circle and The Fourth Wall in conversation together, as I agree that they are reminiscent of one another. What I think is especially cool is that they are not mutually exclusive. If the Magic Circle represents its own sort of dimension with rules, customs, and boundaries, breaking the fourth wall *of* The Magic Circle is an acknowledgement that you are participating in some other-worldly activity. This acknowledgement could be a celebration (if the game jokes around with the player) or a threat (as you mentioned with Sonic). What I find really interesting about the breaking of the fourth wall here is the possibility for variety in tone–how the game designers choose to program that conversation with the player has a direct impact on the narrative of the game (the above example of Super Paper Mario prompts a functional and interactive activity while the direct address of the player’s name in the Sonic example taunts the player). Especially in the case of the Sonic example, the tone and approach of this fourth wall break reinforces the scariness of the world that is Sonic’s Magic Circle; even in breaking the fourth wall and acknowledging the other worldliness/other dimension of the game’s Magic Circle, it still manages to reinforce the particular personality of that world.
I love your last point on how breaking the 4th wall is actually an act of strengthening the dimensions of the Magic Circle and takes place within the Magic Circle. As sudden or unexpected as it may seem, from the very beginning, a character breaking the 4th wall is an intentional move of the designer, maybe for enriching the character’s charisma/ability (e.g., only Deadpool can talk to the audience and break the 4th wall in Marvel comics? If I remember it correctly), maybe for strengthening the mysterious worldview, maybe for creating a kind of suspense, surprise, or scariness. But it is a very deliberate act that belongs to the Magic Circle, instead of breaking it.
Also if we think about it the other way around, can we say that game is a medium that allows players to break the 4th wall? The players are the actual persons who intrude in the game dimension, control the characters, talk to and interact with the NPCs, etc. Instead of characters saying “hi” to us, we are actually the person who initiates the action of game playing and saying “hi” to them. This might be another way that distinguishes games from other types of medium, e.g., film, literature, etc.
The idea of breaking the magic circle is especially interesting in games because of their more immersive and engaging nature. Often the fourth wall break used in theater or film can be missed by audience members or used as a means to regain any lost spectators attention, a sort of “Hey!” to the audience. (Most) Video Games don’t allow that sort of passive disengagement because of their need for interactivity and agency by the player to advance in the story. I wonder then what the pros and cons are of breaking immersion like this, and why any developer would choose to break immersion in their game as that is usually their goal.
Your example of a horror/fear motivated break is definitely a great example of this. Even jump scares act as a sort of fourth-wall/magic circle break because of the emotional and physical start that the player experiences that jogs them back into reality. The idea of literally addressing the player as opposed to the character is especially frightening as it seperates not only the player from the character but the concept of ‘player’ from the real person. By this I mean it separates the player from the idea of a ‘gamer’ the way, if a cast member were to address one of the audience by name it separates an audience member from the ‘audience’. It’s a much more personal address in a passtime we pursue to be impersonal or to ‘get away’ from normal lives.
I wonder how this sort of ‘personal’ fourth wall break would work in other games, would it be as creepy or jarring as the Sonic.EXE game or would it seem out of place and just generally disruptive? Personally, I think it’s a fine line between being emotionally effective and seeming to ‘try too hard’ as a developer.