Let's be real with each other for a moment; what is the point of making a video game if you don't get the chance to stick yourself in it? Developers put their hearts, souls, and considerable amounts of working hours into creating these products with the intention of them standing the test of time, don't they deserve to slip themselves in somewhere, maybe in a place so obscure that only they will know? What better place to immortalize yourself than in the digital plainscape wherein your likeness will last for perpetuity? (Or at least until the hardware evolves enough to make your game unplayable.)
In movies we occasionally see the director self-insert in sneaky little ways that makes the audience go 'oh look'! Like in Return of the King when Peter Jackson costumed up like an Orc and got shot in the chest or that time that George Lucas turned his entire family into Star Wars toys. (Okay, maybe not that second one.) Given the opportunity however, such inserts can come across as weird, unearned or pretentious. (Like in Lady in Water wherein M. Night. Shyamalan cast himself as a misunderstood genius martyr.) This is a phenomenon that has crossed over to video games over the decades, with varying results.
Perhaps one of my favourite self-inserts comes from the classic PSP masterpiece: Metal Gear Solid; Peace Walker. (which hails from a franchise spawned from the wonderfully weird mind of Hideo Kojima.) One of the earliest levels of this adventure has Naked Snake, now appointed the title of Big Boss, infiltrating a storehouse in search of missing nukes. (Just like on your normal Saturday.) It is at this point that Peace Walker gives players one of their first glimpse into it's silly side by playing "What's behind that door?" with you. And yes, one door opens up to a room full of wrought iron cogs. ("Metal gears?")As you have likely deduced from this setup, the penultimate door opens up to the kidnapped form of the franchise's visionary director; Hideo Kojima. (Whom Snake apparently knows, seeing as how he instantly recognizes him as "Mr Kojima?") From that point onwards Hideo Kojima joins your personal mercenary army with lackluster skills in everything but tech. Obviously. (One touch that I particularly liked was the way that Kojima's ingame bio notes how his body is made up of "70% games". A reflection of his twitter bio which quotes the statistic as "70% movies".)
The first person cowboy game of the 2000's was Techland's Call of Juarez. Is was gritty, bombastic and even downright cinematic at times, whilst always remembering to pay homage to it's Hollywood western routes. With such a history, it only made sense for the developers to search for a suitably western way to sneak their names into the game, and they achieved exactly that with their wanted posters. That's right, throughout the gameworld the player can come across hidden wanted posters that feature the printed out mugs of various developers wearing cowboy hats and putting on their best desperado face. I suppose this means the next logical step is for the Devs to program themselves in as actual bounties to be hunted by players. (Next game, guys.)
As Metal Gear Solid Peacewalker was the second entry in the 'prequel' series of Metal Gear games, it would be several years before we got a follow-up to let everyone know what happened to everyone's favourite mercenary: Hideo Kojima. When Metal Gear Solid: Ground Zeroes rolled around we got to see exactly that as an extra mission allowed us to cover Kojima in his explosive escape from a recon mission gone wrong. (Not too sure why we sent in the tech guy for that.) However, folk had due concern to be worried for Mr. Kojima's safety considering that Ground Zeroes ends with the violent dissolution of your military force by way of several explosions. Which in hindsight is a little odd considering the base seemed fine after you battled a schoolgirl driving a nuclear mechsuit on top of it. (Metal Gear is a weird series.) Luckily, once Phantom Pain rolled around we got to discover the final fate of Kojima-san. Seems he was one of the 10 survivors of the assault and wound up being caught by the Russian forces in Afghanistan. (Who decided to keep him in the exact same room where the kept, and lost, Kaz. These guys aren't the sharpest tools in the shed, huh?) Therefore it's up to Venom Snake to save Kojima one last time and recruit him once again to the noble job of providing military aid in exchange for funds. (Do you think Kojima is trying to tell us something about what he wants to do after he's done with games?)
During one of the content showcases for Final Fantasy 15, leading up to that game's launch, fans were treated to a custom battle between protagonist Noctis and a unforseen opponent; CEO of Square Enix Yosuke Matsuda. Mr Matsuda showed up out the blue and pretty much creamed the crown prince of Insomnia with his magical sword (Which I'm sure the real Yosuke definitely has.) Fans of this surprise boss (I know you're out there) would have to wait until a whole other game to get a chance to experience the surreal insanity of that fight for themselves. Underrated masterpiece 'NeiR: Automata' was only ever graced with a single DLC; an arena mode called: 3C3C1D119440927. (Really rolls of the tongue.) As you've likely guessed, the secret final boss of this mode is Yosuke Matsuda himself, realized in full 3d bullet-hell glory. Of course, just to put a cherry on top of the whole encounter, half way through the fight, CEO and President of Platinum games, Kenichi Sato, shows up. So if you want two old Japanese business men shouting waves of energy at you (lets be honest, who doesn't?) then NeiR: Automata is the game for you! (PSA: 'NeiR: Automata' is fantastic for a lot of other reasons, I swear! Don't let this one incredibly weird facet put you off!)
You know what game series is even more surreal and weird than Metal Gear? Five nights at Freddies. That is a franchise that built itself around the simple premise of haunted Chuck-e-cheese animatronics and has sense gone on to confuse audiences everywhere with confusing plot twists involving bite victims, animatronics in skin suits and the hungry souls of murdered children. All this comes from the entrepreneuring mind of one; Scott Cawthon, a man who managed to turn his early game development missteps into a wildly successful franchise. (Good for him.) I suppose it was only a matter of time before he managed to work himself into one of the games, and that he did with the weird, bright and occasionally annoying RPG: Fnaf World. ("You won't get tired of my voice, will you?") Months before the impressive fangame 'The Joy of Creation', Fnaf World featured Scott as its final boss to round off this LSD trip of a game. Cawthon is envisioned as his blocky Twitter avatar and spends most of the fight bemoaning his excessive work cycle due to his voracious fans. (Okay buddy, well at least you have fans who want to see your work.)
One franchise that I have a begrudging respect for, even though I could care less for the movies themselves, is the Matrix franchise. It was one of the first legitimate attempts to create a multimedia franchise spanning websites, movies, tv-shows and games. (If only they could all tell interesting stories that aided a bigger narrative. What do you mean that was the intention? Well it didn't work. They sucked.) That being said, I appreciate the Wachowski's attempt to pull something original and unique with the concept of a franchise and I especially appreciate their tongue in cheek little message at the end of the second Matrix game; Path of Neo. That game very much ends like the film, with Neo and Mister Smith duking it out in the remains of The Matrix in a symbolic battle of good versus evil. (Very anime now I come to think about it.) However, this wouldn't work so well for a game (one on one final battle? Lame.) So the Wachowski's amended this fight into a mecha-like battle against one giant Mister Smith made out of several little Mister Smiths. (Creative.) Just before this fight, the game pauses for the Wachowski's to speak directly to the player to explain this change reasoning that this just seemed more fun.
I always do enjoy those little moments when developers go out of their way to remind you of the human element that goes into our favourite games. (Even when they do it in ways that are both super weird and uncomfortable.) It's a way for us to take a look at the faces of the hard working individuals and recognize those that don't get to take the stage at every E3, and for them it's a chance to be immortalized within their work. Who could ask for more?
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