The instruction manual to the widely praised video game Assassin’s Creed (Ubisoft, 2007) makes explicit comparison between control of the game’s avatar and the manipulation of puppets. A subsection of the manual titled "Contextual Puppeteering Controls" explains that "[e]ach body part is linked to a button (head…, weapon hand…, empty hand…, and legs)." While this conceit is intended largely to reinforce the game’s meta-virtual conceit (the player plays as a contemporary character who in turn controls an "ancestor" via video-game like controls), it is far from the first time that the connection between puppets and avatars has been made. While there is very little scholarly work on video games and virtual worlds, a considerable subsection of what has been published employs the avatars-as-puppets metaphor (though, to be sure, there are articles that dispute the comparison as well).
Some articles attempt to legitimize video games as a site of scholarly exploration by linking them to an existing discourse; others view puppetry as one way to theorize the forms and functions of a field that no one is entirely sure how to frame. There is some irony to both of these threads, as scholars and practitioners of puppetry have themselves long sought to achieve both an aura of cultural legitimacy and a system of productive theoretical frameworks. A few articles propose the puppet metaphor as a lens through which to envision new models of pedagogically useful games for children. There is some irony in this as well, since children aren’t the ones who need a meat-based metaphor to understand the appeal of video games.
There is a certain appeal and possible usefulness to the idea that there is a connection between digital avatars and puppets. The idea of "digital puppetry" has been around for some time, and can be summed up as the manipulation of computer-animated avatars in real time, rather than in pre-rendered sequences. These virtual objects, like real-world puppets, respond to the performer/player whether the actions are scripted and rehearsed or completely improvisational. The rise of console gaming, particularly large-scale "sandbox" games in which the player/performer can move freely around a sprawling environment and interact with largely non-linear storyline (Assassin’s Creed¸ the Grand Theft Auto series [Rockstar Games, 1997– ], the forthcoming Infamous [Sony, 2009], etc.), has moved the puppet/avatar metaphor to the mainstream, building on the considerable success of "massively multiplayer" game experiences like Second Life (Linden Research 2003– ) and World of Warcraft (Blizzard Entertainment, 2004– ). Second Life has proven particularly intriguing to performing arts scholars and practitioners, as virtual theatre festivals, dance companies, and improvisatory performances have sprung up and, in some cases, begun to develop followings. Games like Little Big Planet (Sony, 2008) and Rag Doll Kung Fu (Valve, 2005; Sony, 2009) evoke puppet theatre as well, by employing doll-like characters and ragdoll physics.
Still, it must be acknowledged that modifying "puppetry" with "digital" results is a fundamental change. I was recently interviewed by filmmaker David Soll, who is working on a documentary about the current New York puppet-theatre scene. Since the late 1990s, there has been an oft-observed proliferation of both puppet-based theatre and the use of puppets in actor-based theatre. One of the questions Soll wants to ask in his film is: why now? In part, the answer is a matter of logistical circumstance. Funding and workshopping opportunities from national and local not-for-profits, increased exposure to puppet traditions from around the world, and the option to study puppetry within the academy have all played a part. Soll seems to suspect that there is something more at play, however.
When I mentioned the connection between puppets and video games, Soll acknowledged that there are some interesting conversations going on around that idea, but added that he thinks the link is a false one. He explained that he experiences video games and virtual worlds in a completely different way than he experiences puppet performances, and considers them parts of very different spheres. More specifically, he argues that the tactile, analog nature of puppetry is a big part of what sets it apart from other forms, and that the enthusiasm for puppet forms among a small but growing segment of the performing arts community has everything to do with this.
Soll’s argument was very much on my mind when I attended Drama of Works’s Puppet Kafka at Here Arts Center. DoW’s work, which I’ve followed since 2002’s The Ballad of Phineas Gage, frequently foregrounds highly physical relationship between puppet and puppeteer. In Puppet Kafka, Markus Maurette and Meghan Williams’s set is scaled appropriately for the marionettes (designed by Miroslav Trejtnar) but the actor-puppeteers inhabit the same space, and are forced to crouch and crawl and bump awkwardly into doorways and furniture. Some such moments were certainly accidents, but Van Lente and her team seem to have created the awkward situation intentionally.
The awkwardness has everything to do with the story material, of course. Excerpts and plot points from Kafka’s most famous fiction are juxtaposed and interwoven with biographical material both documented and speculative. The uncomfortable stage setting is meant to evoke the discomforting impact of Kafka’s prose. If the actors are the imagination, the conscience, the animating force of the puppets, the cramped quarters reflect how uncomfortable and stifled these characters feel in their own skin. In keeping with this notion, the actors manipulate their puppets as if they are playing with dolls. Their hands are all over them, all the time. There is no attempt at illusion, no attempt to distract the audience from the bodies of the performers. The physical, tactile, analog nature of puppetry is on full display.
While the "stars" of the production are ostensibly the marionettes (beautifully carved by Miroslav Trejtnar), the variety of puppet forms on display is impressive both in terms of craft and ingenuity (as it so often is in contemporary puppet theatre). Kafka is represented in one scene by the marionette and in the next by a "K" carved out of wood. When he is emotionally wounded and feels small, the "K" falls to the ground and is replaced by a "k." Shadows are projected through one "wall" and onto another. The famous dung-beetle from The Metamorphosis is represented by a hand-puppet stitched together from bread baskets, feathers, and pipe cleaners.
All in all, Puppet Kafka is not my favorite DoW show. The play is difficult to follow if it’s been a while since you’ve read The Trial, etc., and the psychology underlying the overall conceit is a little simplistic, despite being masked by formal complexity. The rough edges I have often praised in DoW’s work, are sometimes a little too rough here, as actors visibly struggle to remember their lines and bump their heads on doorframes as they enter the stage.
And yet, the show still fascinates. These bodies and objects in space, just a few feet from the audience, dance in close quarters and maintain constant contact with one another. The puppets, which were carved, stitched, and glued into creation, now move not independently of, but in conjunction with the bodies of flesh-and-blood performers. The individual performances are hybrid performances; when a puppeteer moves from one puppet to the next, she becomes a different performer, representing a different character. The deeply personal connection between performer and object ironically helps the production as a whole to become a study in alienation.
This process probably has more to do with cyborg theory than with video games, but the cyborg metaphor doesn’t quite work either. The magic of these puppets is in no small part their reliance on "craft" in a quite literal sense of the word. All of the narrative and aesthetic sophistication and complexity begins with a block of wood, a carving knife, and a dancing body.