3

Science and Technology behind Storytelling

Though stories have been around since the beginning of human communications, scientific research into the particulars of the field is still relatively new. In his book looking at the science behind the power of story, Kendall Haven says that our minds were evolutionarily hardwired long before birth to think in specific story terms—that these internal neural story maps are not stored in our conscious mind but in the subconscious.1 Beyond these concepts, children are read stories before they are old enough to grasp the words being said to well beyond the formative years. We never reach a point of maturity at which we stop telling each other stories. All this storytelling has mass effect on our brains and our lives.

Story and the Essence of the Brain

Brian Boyd contends that humans are “hyper-intelligent and hyper-social animals.”2 By combining factors of intelligence, pattern seeking, alliance making, cooperation, and the understanding that others have beliefs and knowledge of their own, stories make us a stronger and more effective species. He suggests a story is “a thing that does” instead of “a thing that is.” Perhaps the most significant factor that Boyd mentions is pattern seeking. Stories that adhere to even loose structural frameworks are, in a sense, built around patterns. This is certainly a factor in the reason why story and its various narrative elements are attractive to the brain. A recent report in Frontiers in Neuroscience, available from the US National Library of Medicine and National Institutes of Health, states that pattern processing is the very essence of the evolved human brain.3 In light of the earlier discussions around story structure in this book, while nonlinear stories and those that stray further away from traditional patterns humans recognize in their narratives can still have resonance with an audience, those that rely more heavily on pattern-based structure have a neurological advantage when offered to an audience. This concept holds true with different forms of visual narratives, leading us to believe it will hold true for VR as well.4

Author Jonathan Gottschall suggests that another field of science in which a great deal of research has been performed might lead us to insights about our relationship with narratives. He states, “Dream researchers define a dream as—this is a quote—‘a vivid sensory motor hallucination within a narrative context.’ It’s a night story. It focuses on the protagonist, usually the dreamer, who has to overcome obstacles to achieve his or her desires.”5 In his book The Storytelling Animal, he suggests that people are interested in simulated worlds because they desire to live better in this one. While looking at storytelling in video games, Gottschall interviews one game designer who says that his games give players a daily vacation from the pointlessness of their actual lives, opting instead for the meaning-rich environment the game provides. Most research around narrative games and stories in general suggests that this quest for meaning lies at the base of the human compulsion to engage in these activities.

Science, Story, and the Body

The Virtual Human Interaction Lab at Stanford University conducts a wide array of studies around Virtual and Augmented Realities. Many of their studies are focused on issues of embodiment. One recent study asks the question, “Can an avatar’s body movements change a person’s perception of good and bad?” Specifically, the study looks at whether embodying a character in VR space has the power to change our minds about certain matters. While remaining clear that more research is needed, the study does conclude that VR experiences “may implicitly shape how users form mental representations about their digital experience and those outside the media interactions.”6 Other studies conducted by Stanford state that embodying animals and even nature in VR space can change the way we interact with those elements outside of the digital space.7,8

Another area where science seems to be intersecting with story and the body is in how we actually view ongoing activity in the world. A study on the subject revealed that a steady diet of the type of editing used in film production has caused humans to begin to think in terms of segments or scenes.9 In other words, we expect a certain continuity in our lives and our activities, even as they unfold in real time. One report describes it as such: “Animal and human movement is integrated in rhythmic and graceful sequences of discreet units of activity, each with their own particular goal-orientation, which are coordinated by the purpose of a higher-order goal or project.”10 Many studies have begun to look at the effects of when human life does not so easily conform to these parameters and expectations, especially in digital environments. Users have documented dissociative feelings they experience since the early days of VR—termed “post-VR sadness.”11

SPOTLIGHT ON VR SCIENCE AND STORYTELLING: Storytelling through Data and Neurology

Dr. Carolina Cruz-Neira has been globally recognized as an international pioneer in the areas of Virtual Reality and interactive visualization. The Arkansas Research Alliance (ARA) and Gov. Mike Beebe appointed her as one of two ARA Scholars responsible for sharing their knowledge and research to create new paths for the state’s economic success.

John Bucher: Can you begin by giving us some background on your work?
Dr. Carolina Cruz-Neira: I’ve been around for a long time. My history has been in creating large resource centers for Virtual Reality. The Emerging Analytics Center at the University of Arkansas in Little Rock or EAC is actually the third center that I’ve directed. I built a very large center at Iowa State University, back in the late ’90s. It was called the Virtual Reality Application Center. It’s not as visible, perhaps, as it was when I was running it, but they still exist.
I conceived the concept of that center and spent a lot of time doing the fundraising together with a couple of other faculty colleagues. That center was one of the largest centers in the world to do Virtual Reality at the time. There were as many as 35 or 40 professors involved and 200 or 300 graduate students. We had a six-sided VR cave, and a large SGI system. After Hurricane Katrina, the governor of Louisiana wanted to invest the funds to create new technology initiatives in Louisiana, to help the state. I was recruited to be a part of those efforts. I went there and I built my second large-scale Virtual Reality Center. It was called the Louisiana Immersive Technologies Enterprise. It was more like a company than a university, so I was the CEO of that for a while. Then, just recently, here in Arkansas, the previous governor had an initiative to advance research and technology in the state. That was how I came to my present position. The Emerging Analytics Center was created prior to my coming.
We are positioned to be mostly a center of expertise for using Virtual Reality technology for industry—for military and basically for everything that is not games or entertainment. We are unique in the sense that we do a lot of industry work, which most universities will not do. We do more practical applications.
At the moment, we’re being very platform agnostic. If you have looked around, 90% of Virtual Reality today, perhaps more, is perceived through HMDs. Everybody loves the Oculus Rift. Everybody loves the HTC Vive. People are enjoying the HoloLens and so on. A lot of these systems are very single-user systems. For gaming and entertainment, they work fabulously because normally you play a game by yourself with the computer, and your social interactions are through multiplayer games that you never really see who the other person really is. That works very well, but when you’re in industry, you work as a group. You sit in conference rooms. We try to focus on the whole spectrum of Virtual Reality platforms and understand what do you need? What are you trying to do? What does your daily life look like? What is the workflow in your company? Based on that, we try to find what’s the best platform. We don’t have to shovel a platform down your throat just because that’s the only one we have in the lab. We’re probably the most diverse group right now, as far as VR platforms go.
John Bucher: Let’s stay with platforms for a second, because I think that’s a conversation worth having. Can you talk a little bit about the advantages of a cave or a sphere that allow us to see and do things that we would not be able to experience with a standard HMD? Why use those other platforms? What sorts of applications do they lend themselves to?
Dr. Carolina Cruz-Neira: I think that like everything, there are good things and not-so-good things about each platform. We all have shoes, but you don’t have just one pair. Is it better to have on a stiletto shoe or is it better to have a running shoe? Well, none of them are better. It depends on the context. I’m not going to put on my stiletto shoe and go climb Mt. Everest, because that would be absurd. At the same time, I’m not going to put on my running shoes and go to dinner in the White House, because that would be also kind of absurd. I think with the VR platforms, that’s exactly what we’re doing. We’re telling people, “Get your stiletto shoes and go climb Mt. Everest.” For Virtual Reality, there is not a single best platform. It just doesn’t make sense to say “the best.” When you use a cave, it has many positive points, because again, you can have a team of people that together walk into the virtual space. Together they have the experience in a similar manner as you have experiences in the real world. If you ride a little cart with someone at Disney, that’s a shared experience. I’m seeing you and me, and I see your body language, and I see your facial expression, and I see your finger pointing at things. For those kinds of situations, the cave is very good. It’s also good because it doesn’t limit your real-world vision. It’s extremely important to me that I see myself with respect to the virtual world, so my body is still my frame of reference to understand sizes, to understand distances, to understand front and back, to estimate my physical effort, to reach out for something in the virtual world. Those kinds of things you get when you are not only in a cave but any sort of system that is not attached to your eyeballs, basically.
We have done some experiments over the years and have statistically proven that when you don’t have a display directly attached to your eyeballs, the issues related to motion sickness, disorientation, discomfort, all those things are much less. We don’t have those situations when people are inside the cave or the dome or with any of the large-scale display formats. Now, there are disadvantages, of course. With the cave and other large-format display systems today, those systems are implemented for one person to have the track-controlled viewpoint, and everybody else sort of rides along with that person. Depending on how far you are from the person holding the point of view, your perception of the virtual world is going to have more or less distortions. It’s not going to necessarily be very comfortable on your eyes, and it might be a little harder for you to estimate distances or sizes. It’s the equivalent to when you go to a movie theater to see a 3D movie and see it in the middle of the theater as opposed to seeing it all the way in the front or all the way to the left. There’s also disadvantages depending on how large your group is and how large your cave is.
John Bucher: Are you able to speak at all to neurology issues in VR? Do you ever work with brain scientists to look at what is going to engage the mind quicker or what’s going to draw attention in immersive space?
Dr. Carolina Cruz-Neira: We’ve done that in the past. In our current work, we’re starting to do that, but we’re mostly at the brainstorming stages. In the previous places that I’ve been, we’ve done many things related to that. We have a very large project with the Army that had to do with the engagement of the soldiers in training. The scenarios are always the same, so the soldiers train to play the game, but then they don’t really learn the skills that they are supposed to be trained on. They just know this particular training environment instead of developing tactical thinking. We were generating dynamic scenarios during training, so the scenarios would randomly create themselves as the training was happening so there was no knowledge of the space. Even the layout of the streets would be completely different every time the soldier goes to the training environment. That’s one example of work that we’ve done in the past in this area.
Another thing that we did had to do with utilizing Virtual Reality for elderly people. Using it for pre-Alzheimer’s memory stimulation, for example. The medical group that we were working with, the psychiatry group, they thought that for elderly people, it’s very hard sometimes to have two different activities in their brain at the same time. We were using Virtual Reality to put them in very pleasant environments. The group conducted interviews with their patients, and some of them in their younger years did a lot of scuba diving. Other groups were more into mountain hiking. We then created two or three virtual environments. We had a beautiful underwater scuba-diving world. We had an Alps landscape and a shopping mall. The psychiatrist and the patient would be sitting in the middle of the cave, in this beautiful underwater environment. They were seeing the fish swimming by. There was a sunken galleon that they could go and scuba dive in there, but they were having a conversation about something completely unrelated to this underwater environment. The images triggered unrelated memories in their mind.
They would go away for a week or two, and then the patient would go back to the psychiatrist’s office, not to our lab, and they were able to recall that conversation they had with the psychiatrist in the VR cave. The doctor would say, “What did we talk about last week?” And the patient would be like, “Oh, I don’t know.” “Don’t you remember? We were sitting underwater watching the fish?” “Oh, yes, that’s true. We were talking about something that happened in Germany.” They were using the virtual environment as a memory trigger. We are also looking at things related to pain control, which other groups are doing as well, and we have some groups that are interested in posttraumatic stress disorder. We are interested in working with victims of rape, victims of robbery, victims of car accidents—those kinds of things. We’re working with some people and having very early preliminary conversations.
John Bucher: What about the use of narrative elements in VR? Not just using VR to tell cinematic stories but in world building and how narratives affect the human mind? I’ve heard you talk about your work with using VR in data and data mining as it relates to narrative to create a visual story of sorts. You have said that when data becomes visual, people begin to formulate a story around that data.
Dr. Carolina Cruz-Neira: John, we could have many hours of conversations about this because there are lots of stories. I’ll tell you one of them. When I was fresh from grad school and starting my career as a professor, one of the big Fortune 500 companies came to me and said, “Hey, Carolina, one of our products that we just put on the market is having trouble. It’s having problems. We don’t know. We cannot figure it out. My entire engineering team has been looking at the problem. We have gone to the beginning to the earliest stages of design of this product, and we’re trying to figure out what’s going on in here, and we really can’t. Here’s your chance. We’ve heard you say that VR technology is going to help our industry, so help us find this.” I said, “Okay. We’ll take the challenge.”
We got some of their data. Just a bunch of data points, with no particular three-dimensional meaning, and my students and I put together an immersive visualization of all this data. When you look at data on your screen, you look at it from one point of view. If you want to change the point of view, usually you have some sliders or buttons that will give you a Y rotation or a Z rotation or whatever. It is, in a sense, a one-dimensional manipulation of three-dimensional data. Your ability to really see that data from a lot of different angles is quite limited. Much more than people actually realize. Most engineering work and most design work is still being done on computers. Flat monitors. It’s sometimes interesting to see how limited the ability to look around is. We put this project together, and once we started visualizing it, we started noticing some very weird patterns with the data that you could only see from a very specific point of view. Just a small variation of that point of view. Eventually we found the angle where we could see the problem. We went back to these people, and said, “Hey, guys, we think we found something in your data, but it’s really hard to see.” We literally brought them into the environment, and we were literally grabbing their heads, like, “Okay. There it is! Right there! Do you see it?” Then once we did that, literally within five seconds, the three or four of them that came, were like, “What in the …?” They went nuts. They went bananas with it. They immediately knew what it was. We didn’t know what it was. We just saw that there was an irregularity that you could only see from a certain angle. They immediately knew what it was, and they were able to find a solution. That, for us, was wonderful, because this company was one of the first that then developed a very long-term funded engagement with me and my team.
John Bucher: Story theorists say that the way story structure works is based on how human beings solve problems in their heads. Can you talk a little bit about how VR does allow us to solve problems that we couldn’t get at otherwise? The story you just shared is a perfect example of that, but why do you think it is that VR opens up this new space for us to be able to solve problems in ways we haven’t before?
Dr. Carolina Cruz-Neira: Let’s say we’re trying to resolve a problem because I need to design a new machine that takes care of some process that maybe needs to make the process faster or more efficient. I’m the engineer. I’m not going to be the guy that actually is going to sit down using the machine in the real world. My understanding of the problem is not necessarily the understanding that my final user is going to have. I don’t mean the Virtual Reality user. I mean the user—the consumer of my product. A lot of engineers think they are the users. They’re not. Their products are going to be utilized by somebody else. It’s sometimes very hard to see the point of view of that user. You don’t know what his daily work, his daily job looks like.
John Bucher: There was a reason that the biggest challenges that faced VR were issues like latency and frame rate. What would you say are now the biggest challenges that we have to overcome to fully be able to utilize this technology in new ways?
Dr. Carolina Cruz-Neira: At the risk of sounding boring and repetitive, those challenges are still here. We still have issues with latency. We still have issues with frame rates. We still have issues with synchronizing your visuals to whatever is going on. We still have issues that the vast majority of all the Virtual Reality projects that we do right now have almost no computations of any kind other than very simplistic physics. I think that most of the challenges that I was addressing when I was a grad student are still on the table to be addressed today.
How do we introduce additional sensory experiences beyond visuals? How do we accommodate for individual differences? Right now, we assume all of us have two eyes that are universally located in the same position on everybody’s face. That’s absolutely not correct. Each one of us have very significant individual variations. Our eyes are not necessarily horizontally properly aligned. You might have one eye that sees a little better than the other one. All those kinds of things. Pretty much every single challenge that you might see mentioned in any kind of VR publication from the ’90s is still valid today. There’s been some significant improvements, of course. The technology has become incredibly affordable, and that’s why we’re all so happy about it. It’s an exciting moment, but it is also a very fragile moment.

Concepts to Consider from Dr. Carolina Cruz-Neira

  • Every VR platform has its own advantages, disadvantages, and applications.
  • There are connections in the study of VR to the study of memory.
  • Narrative elements have uses in VR beyond entertainment.
  • Technical challenges are still steep and must be overcome for VR to advance.

Putting Ideas Together

As Dr. Cruz-Neira mentions, even those whose work transcends the primary goal of storytelling rely on narrative elements. Understanding these elements and how they can be used gives creators an advantage in the types of work they may choose to involve themselves in. Narrative elements are helpful when constructing methods and applications for solving a problem, be it psychological, physical, or digital in nature. Understanding the way that narrative elements function apart from, alongside, and together with other narrative elements gives a creator insight into world- and structure-building methods that may be most useful in developing a solution for a given issue. The answer may not always rely on developing a new technology to fill a gap but to look at using the existing technology to provide a different narrative.

Technological Challenges with Traditional Cinematic Storytelling Techniques

We are at a unique point in history where technology has been advancing more rapidly than our methods of production. This is true across the global culture but specifically true in areas of produced entertainment. Cameras were capable of resolutions higher than those that could be edited or displayed for a period. As fast as computer processing power was advancing, the average user is still unable to perform advanced operations with large data files in real time—rendering must still occur, slowing the rate at which content can be produced. VR has not been without its technological challenges as well. In fact, many say the largest tests that face VR are technological, as the human imagination has already dreamed a future far beyond what VR is capable of—for now.

Perhaps the most discussed challenge has been the logistical issue of just where to put all the supporting lights, audio, and grip equipment needed to produce the aesthetically appealing productions that audiences have grown used to. Certainly, YouTube and other online video platforms have diversified audience expectations when it comes to the production quality of video content they enjoy. However, when audiences are asked to pay for content, there remains a certain level of expectation that the production quality of what they buy will be at a level they consider professional.

Clever VR creators have already invented a variety of means to hide gear and crew members in plain sight within the VR space. Homemade helmets have been used to mount the camera above the director of photography’s head. Monitors have been hidden behind newspapers and disguised as televisions on the wall. Crew members have been disguised as extras in scenes—some with hidden microphones mounted strategically on their bodies. Stories that were originally meant to be told indoors have been moved outside to take advantage of natural light. All represent methods that creators are discovering in order to tell their stories with the technological challenges that presently exist in the medium.

Using Production Practices to Tell Better Stories in VR

Even with all the challenges, creators must use the production gear that presently exists to produce content in the medium. While eventually VR will likely develop its own tool sets, those used in film, television, theater, and the web must suffice for now. While the camera is likely the only piece of equipment currently on VR sets that is solely and specifically for use in the medium, this will quickly change. While the majority of equipment presently needed to tell VR stories will come from the production worlds of film and television, the discipline of immersive theater has developed tools and techniques that will be helpful as well. Creators in this field have a head start on hiding production elements that tend to break the immersion experienced by the audience.

Before discussing specific production practices, tools, and techniques, it is important to state a few ideas about the philosophical nature of the equipment used to tell the story. Far too often, the means of production becomes of higher priority than the content being produced. In other words, the production is aesthetically pleasing but the story the crew was telling doesn’t hold up to the aesthetics. While there is a certain audience expectation for the quality of content they are paying for, viewers tend to forgive simple and even problematic production elements but are less likely to forgive dissonance, confusion, or plot holes in the narrative. It is of utmost importance that every crew member realize that they are a storyteller. This is not solely the domain of the writer or director. Each production element tells a story within the larger narrative being communicated. Directors must combine these smaller stories to craft a larger one, much in the way a conductor combines all the sections of an orchestra to create a symphony. If one section of the musical collective is out of tune, the whole is in jeopardy. Dissonance created by one department can make the entire narrative confusing or difficult. One of the jobs of the director is to make sure that everyone is making the same story. If the lighting department believes the story they are telling is a horror narrative but the sound department believes it is a comedy, the final product will be unlikely to strike a chord in audiences—at least not one they enjoy.

How the Camera, the Frame, and Its Edges Affect Your Story in VR

As has been discussed, the camera is likely the sole element on the set that has been specifically designed for VR production. This production tool will make or break how the audience experiences the story. Its importance cannot be overstated. Depending on the scale of the production, VR cameras vary greatly in size, shape, and weight. Some cameras feature a single wide-angle lens that shoots up to 180 degrees. Creators then often take two or more of these cameras and tether them together to create immersion. Other cameras have multiple lenses that perform the same task in order to capture 360-degree space. It is worth offering a gentle reminder of a concept presented earlier in the text.

360-Degree Video Is Not the Same as VR

While 360-degree video may be used in VR to help create immersion, they are not, by definition, the same. You may recall this concept being introduced in the Spotlight on Cameras section in Chapter 1. Removing the edges of the square frame does several things in the mind of the audience. The square frame has long acted as a window through which we see the narrative world. When the audience has been repulsed or frightened by what they saw within the frame, they could look away. With the audience placed literally inside the frame, looking away is not an option. A viewer could close their eyes. However, this requires an even greater sacrifice of control on the part of the viewer. Most people would not close their eyes in a situation that frightened them unless they were a child. When scenes within the frame upset a viewer, they had the option of looking over at the person next to them, perhaps even taking their hand. With preset VR experiences, that agency has been taken away, which speaks to the importance of the impending social VR technology. The vulnerability established by the camera, the frame, and its edges affects the viewer’s experience of the story a great deal. This must be recognized when crafting narratives. It can be tempting for creators to press the boundaries of how deeply a viewer feels immersed in a world. However, there must also be an innate respect for the audience on the part of the creator—a consideration for the wide variety of audience members that may enter the world. Striking the balance between the deep immersion the audience feels in the experience and the level of comfort and enjoyment a diverse audience is capable of will continue to be of great importance when crafting stories in VR. It is also worth noting that even within the realm of animated VR narratives, the function of the camera is still in play, though there may not be a physical camera used in the creation. Animated worlds in VR remove many of the technological challenges that presently exist in physical production. However, the story challenges remain the same. The cautions mentioned earlier concerning audience immersion are equally important in animated VR stories.

Connecting with Concepts and Methods in Experimental VR Storytelling

Science and technology have become useful in the innovation of many art forms. However, the only way any art form moves forward is through experimentation and pressing the established boundaries. There’s a common saying in the film industry: “You need to know the rules before you can break them.” However, once one does know the rules, breaking them immediately becomes of interest. Experimental approaches in art rarely get much press. They are often only known to those working within the boundaries of the established industry. Those within the industry occasionally get bored with traditional approaches and look to those experimenting with the form for inspiration, taking approaches and techniques they find interesting and incorporating them into largely “safe” works. The original experimental approach often never gets acknowledged and certainly does not become financially successful. This pattern has been repeated over and over again in music, theater, literature, and film. While studied and lauded by academics, the writing and filmmaking of Guy Deboard in the early part of the last century remains unknown to most artists creating interactive and immersive work. In his book The Society of the Spectacle, Deboard unpacks spectacle as false representations seen in our real lives. He goes on to state that spectacle is a materialized world view, subjecting humanity to itself. He seemed to suggest that the more art resembled actual reality, the more significant its impact. In attempts to prove his theories, Deboard created films that forced his audiences to interact with the medium rather than remaining passive receivers of information. His methods were often extreme. His first film, Hurlements en faveur de Sade, consisted only of black and white screens. When the screen was black, there was no music or dialogue. When it was white, a speaker made a brief comment and quickly turned to black again. The periods between white screens sometimes lasted up to 20 minutes. Needless to say, the film was not a hit with audiences. The theory that Deboard was trying to enforce by breaking the rules, that audiences should interact with the images, remains quite relevant today. In this section, we will examine some of the potential methods of “breaking the rules,” as well as methods that reinforce them. These concepts are provided as templates that creators may play within or attempt to transcend while creating their stories.

Abstract versus Realistic Storytelling

There are a few basic terms and concepts that might be helpful to unpack before looking at the larger field of potential. The first is the tension between abstract and realistic storytelling. Obviously, visual mediums can be much more than just a “record of drama.” Abstract experiences push boundaries, stir emotion, and express the intangible feelings of the artist. They can also showcase specific effects or graphic techniques, explore sounds, emotions, and other more feeling-based ideas. Abstract experiences can push the boundaries of theme and structure in ways that more realistic approaches are unable to. Thematic abstract experiences explore narrative and cinematic concepts, whereas realistic narrative experiences usually tackle the specific issues of story and character. The line between abstract and realism is gray. Abstract films can have characters and realistic films can have abstract elements. In realistic experiences, audiences expect to see the rules of a certain genre adhered to. If that experience is documentary in nature, we wouldn’t be comfortable seeing the documentarian step from behind the camera and perform a show tune. If the genre is horror, we have certain forms that we anticipate the creators will maintain. With abstract experiences, the genre rules become less important, and simple feelings become the method of expression. It is important to note that abstract experiences may be created with photo-realistic images and realistic experiences may be created with artistic animation. The terms speak more to the conceptual approach to the work and its relationship with reality than to the technical medium employed to create the piece.

Breaking the Fourth Wall

Traditionally in theatrical experiences, an invisible wall has existed between the viewer and the stage players. The players are unable to see through this wall, and this gives the impression that they are unaware of our presence as an audience. This concept was brought over from traditional theater and employed in film as that medium developed. When a player, or actor, acknowledges the viewer, this is referred to as “breaking the fourth wall.” This concept has also relied on the assumption that the audience is only able to peer through one wall—the fourth wall. Even when we change angles or perspectives in film, we are still only looking through a single physical dimension. In immersive experiences, the viewer is placed inside the plane of action rather than watching it through an invisible wall. However, the player may still look directly into the camera and, in effect, break the fourth wall. While in a third-person experience, this would likely break the immersion, it actually heightens the immersion in a first-person experience.

Retrospective Storytelling versus Real-Time Storytelling

Beyond the abstract and realistic, there is another philosophical understanding of story that will be helpful to us in moving forward. Retrospective storytelling refers to narratives told from a perspective that looks to the past. In other words, the story being told is not happening at the time the storyteller is describing. There is an underlying assumption with retrospective storytelling that the events will add up to something or lead to a conclusion. Since the story is being told looking backward, the viewer assumes there has been a lesson learned or perspective gained on the narrative events that unfold. Retrospective narratives provide the “why” when we are curious about the present.

Real-time storytelling refers to narratives that are unfolding in the present. The viewer is experiencing them as they actually occur. This can be exhilarating for the viewer. However, it can also be disappointing, as there may or may not be meaning at the end of the experience. There is certainly not meaning while the experience is playing out. With real-time storytelling, sometimes the story simply ends without a dramatic conclusion or lessons learned. Usually, the viewer has the first-person perspective with real-time storytelling.

While meaning may not be readily available in real-time storytelling, the human mind is capable of creating meaning quite quickly, constantly looking back at the events that are playing out in order to retool the meaning that seems to be manifesting. The longer a narrative plays out in real time, the more information the user has to create meaning with. With retrospective storytelling, there is a set meaning to narrative events. With real-time storytelling, meaning is constantly unfolding, changing, and taking on new forms.

The Role of Memory in Retrospective Narratives

Researcher Kate McLean has done significant work in the relationship between the role of memory and retrospective narratives in human psychology.12 Though her work was with adolescents, she states that there is every reason to believe her findings apply to expanding social networks. McLean suggests that rather than storytelling, we actually participate in memory telling after having experiences. This memory telling causes us to create a narrative identity about ourselves. To simplify, when we have experiences, we try to take our memories of what has occurred and string them together to try to create a coherent story about what we experienced. These memories may or may not have direct connection to what actually occurred. Sometimes the memories actually more closely conform to narrative concepts that help us make sense of what happened. Our brains look for stories. We need them to make sense of the world. Actual memories are secondary to story in our minds. For those wishing to delve deeper into these matters, the work of Gary Fireman and Ted McVay is an appropriate starting place.13 The work of Fivush, Habermas, Waters, and Zaman may also be helpful.14

The Role of the Environment in Real-Time Storytelling

When telling real-time stories, the audience immediately begins searching for information that might be helpful to them in orienting themselves in the new world they have entered. Environmental elements will be some of the first images the audience encounters and begins processing. The term environmental storytelling was popularized in the gaming world and refers to the act of “staging player-space with environmental properties that can be interpreted as a meaningful whole, furthering the narrative of the game.”15 Game designers have long stressed the importance of environmental storytelling in creating an immersive experience. According to Henry Jenkins of MIT, “Environmental storytelling creates the preconditions for an immersive narrative experience in at least one of four ways: spatial stories can evoke preexisting narrative associations; they can provide a staging ground where narrative events are enacted; they may embed narrative information within their mise-en-scene; or they provide resources for emergent narratives.”16 Mike Shephard expands on Jenkins’s thoughts, saying, “Many games rely heavily on the embedding of narrative information within mise-en-scene, a term used to describe design aspects in production. It examines set design, lighting, costuming, and so on in how they contribute to the narrative.”17

Creators of VR, AR, and MR experiences must consider the impact of environmental elements in their narratives in order to provide the most realistic and immersive stories. Much has been said about the role of and need for photo-realism in environments, characters, and objects in VR space. This conversation is nuanced by the inclusion of animated and stylized experiences, of course. The key question to ask when designing any environmental element is why? Why should the ground be sand as opposed to rock? Why should the story take place at night as opposed to day? Why are there fallen trees that must be climbed over? What caused them to fall? Why would this character not walk around the tree? These are the sorts of questions that open up space for storytelling and narrative design. There are entire volumes exploring the psychology of color, the impact of shapes on the brain, and the emotions associated with various aesthetics. For readers interested in exploring more depth about these issues, If It’s Purple, Someone’s Gonna Die: The Power of Color in Visual Storytelling by Patti Bellantoni is a sufficient starting place for novices and academics alike.

Passive versus Active Storytelling

Another lens we can view interactive and immersive storytelling through is created when we juxtapose passive storytelling and active storytelling. Further, there are a number of approaches when teasing out meaning from those terms. One approach is to leave gaps in the story that the audience fills in with their imagination, taking the narrative from passive to active. This approach is most effective in novels and short stories. When visuals begin to enter the narrative, we fill in many of those gaps for the audience. The more visuals that enter the narrative, the fewer gaps for the audience to fill in. With VR, the potential for the amount of imagery presented to the viewer is more vast than any sort of storytelling experience that has been created thus far. So this approach, if it is to be effective in VR, would need to leave thematic and narrative gaps as opposed to gaps in detail. It is worth noting, however, that strong narratives usually contain both passive and active storytelling elements. Passive elements give the viewer orienting elements. They set up conflicts and allow for later active storytelling elements in the narrative. Active storytelling elements are often what keep the audience engaged over time.

Passive and Active Storytelling in First-Person Experiences

These concepts look slightly different when we consider first-person experiences. When the viewer is the protagonist and at least partially responsible for crafting the narrative, the flow between passive and active storytelling may resemble the dance in which the creator/designer is leading the dance partner but there is still active participation required on the part of the other partner, as referred to earlier in the text. Creator and viewer are truly creating the story together. Passive storytelling elements in many ways become even more important in first-person experiences, giving the viewer rules and railings to keep them on track. They set up the active storytelling choices that the viewer will make. They will drive where they look, what they touch, and how they act in the space.

The balance of active and passive storytelling elements is significant in most narrative approaches. However, the balance takes on even greater significance in experimental story structures and perhaps the most significance in first-person experimental experiences, in which a linear story may be absent. Creators may choose to take away the familiarities of structural narrative from the viewer, but it is important to remember to give them something to orient. This could include any of the narrative shards, which are basically any of the elements commonly found in narratives that have been previously discussed, or an expression of agency that would allow the viewer to create the types of meaning he or she needs in order to navigate the experience enjoyably.

Embodiment in Passive and Active Stories

A distinction must be drawn between stories that allow for passivity or activity in the mind and those that allow for these concepts in the body as well as the mind. The incorporation of embodiment into VR, AR, and MR experiences will continue to grow in importance as the technology expands beyond simple room-scale experiences. In the earliest VR experience, viewers only saw through the eyes on one inside virtual space. They were unable to look down and see their own bodies, creating a lesser sense of immersion. Later, viewers were given “wands” or other tools that provided some agency. Eventually, viewers could see and respond with their hands. Technology that brought more aspects of the human body into virtual space was not far behind. The further we immerse users into their own bodies, thus embodying them in virtual space, the more impactful the stories in that space will become. Storytelling in future environments will bring new challenges beyond what we can even conceive of presently. Discussions of risk, ethics, and active storytelling requirements will only become more nuanced as the field expands. As with all other aspects of this emerging field, trial, error, and experimentation will be our only guides for navigation. As the potential for fully embodied experiences grows, what audiences anticipate in the balance between active and passive storytelling will likely change and develop as well.

SPOTLIGHT ON STORY: Storytelling at the Oculus Story Studio

Jessica Shamash has worked as the characters feature film coordinator and the lighting feature film coordinator for Pixar. She is currently a producer at the Oculus Story Studio. Pete Billington has worked for more than 15 years in entertainment design experiences and special effects. He has served as digital supervisor at DreamWorks Animation and now holds the title of immersive storyteller at the Oculus Story Studio.

John Bucher: Could you both talk about your history with storytelling?
Jessica Shamash: For me, at least, in terms of why I wanted to get involved with film was that just as a child film had such an impact on me in terms of empathy and being able to relate to characters and feeling different emotions and experiencing different worlds. It was so inspiring. And I felt that if someone could inspire me that much, I wanted to do that for someone else with my life in storytelling. So I got a film degree, and the best part of my degree was studying screenwriting. After school, I got involved at Pixar and was there for 4 years, and Pixar was always a dream job for me mostly because story is king there. About a year ago, I was talking to people at Oculus, and they were looking for someone to help produce and manage their projects. Now I’m working with directors like Pete on developing Virtual Reality films here.
John Bucher: What about you, Pete?
Pete Billington: My parents were really good about exposing me to creative processes early on, and my dad was a huge movie enthusiast, so I was always surrounded by great films. We had a LaserDisc player in the late ’70s, which was a crazy thing to have at the time. Consuming that content set a precedent for me. I had an affinity for the Star Wars universe and set a goal to one day work for George Lucas.
There was a random path to get there, but one of my early jobs was working at Skywalker Ranch. At the same time, I worked in several high-tech areas including computer graphics, so there was this delta that would ultimately point to VR. I spent a lot of time working with Robert Zemeckis in the early 2000s and watching him craft stories. I spent a little bit of time with Spielberg, so I had these amazing role models to follow in terms of how the stories get built and what their evolutionary process was.
Finally, I got really motivated to start telling my own stories and had the opportunity to play in visual effects, animation, and live action, and that informed VR too. I learned what VR really was. It’s not a game. It’s not a movie. It’s something else that we’re trying to figure out. My main motivation is world building, so both narratively building a world with strong characters but also having a universe that supports that and all the intricacy that goes into that is another good opportunity for VR to support the story you’re telling.
John Bucher: What is the relationship between good characters and good story?
Pete Billington: I think good story is good emotion. We connect to stories through how we empathize with characters, so having someone you can make a deep connection with is that conduit to a story. When you structure a story, you get down to the nuts and bolts of how you’re building a story. It’s about emotional arc, and emotional arc per beat, and the only way that I know to do that is through how you relate to a particular character or character’s circumstances. At the most granular level, storytelling is emotional reaction to the character. How you observe that, how you see that interplay between multiple characters, and in the context of VR, how you yourself connect to that character’s emotion.
Jessica Shamash: I think connecting through characters is so important because that is where you see depth. And the more depth that character has, the more relatable the story will be. In E.T., you have this vulnerable character and you relate to that because you’ve known someone who was vulnerable or you yourself have felt vulnerable.
John Bucher: There are currently two approaches in VR. There’s the approach where the viewer is kind of a ghost in the scene, who’s just observing things that are going on. Then there is the approach where the viewer actually is the protagonist in the story, which is something we don’t get in cinematic experiences. The characters on movie screens seem to have no idea that people are watching them. With immersive theater, the actors are very aware that you’re there as well, yet it’s still a story. It’s still narrative. It’s not just reality. Can you talk about agency and interactivity in immersive storytelling?
Jessica Shamash: I think that will be one of the most amazing things about VR storytelling in the future. You will be a greater participant in the experience. It will be like the immersive theater that we’ve experienced, where you can have those one-on-one moments where you are changing the narrative, or you’re influencing the narrative. That’s what you walk away with. That’s why you keep going back, because of those moments. You influenced it. That is where the real opportunity is right now in VR storytelling.
Pete Billington: I think some of it’s getting back to the roots of storytelling. I keep thinking of how stories were originally told around a campfire. It’s much more similar to what we’re going to experience with VR in having that connection with a person. Cinema, in terms of that detachment, was a means to an end. We were asking how we tell the biggest possible story. But it has its limitations That intimacy around the campfire, telling a story, getting sucked in and using your imagination to fill in the blanks is even more powerful. There’s something very primal about that form of storytelling that we’re now just starting to understand.
The idea of being a ghost or being a protagonist is one where we’re not pushing that far enough yet. We’re doing the easy things first because they haven’t been done yet. But I think we’ll get to a point where it doesn’t feel so awkward to not have to put labels on those types of experiences or silo them off as particular genres. We don’t want VR to be completely limited just to imaginary-friend experiences or cast-level experiences. I think we’ll quickly get past that as we see more people exploring different ideas.
John Bucher: René Descartes came up with this idea that we call Cartesian Dualism. It involved the separation of the mind and the body. He considered it possible that our mind was completely separate from our body, which led to the idea of consciousness being separate from the body, which gets us thinking about consciousness being able to be downloaded into a computer. In VR space, because of the lack of a body in some experiences, we still have this consciousness where we can fully be aware of what’s going on around us, however. What are your thoughts about the relationship between the mind and the body as it relates to presence in VR?
Pete Billington: We study that a lot. We talk to a lot of people outside of the industry about things like perception and how our hands relate to our body, because that’s our first corporeal existence right now. In general, the way I feel about presence is that the more layers that you can put on top of an experience, the deeper you are in that experience. So that can be sensory, because we have our eyes, and we have our ears. But giving you even more agency by giving you things like tasks to do, giving you a sense of the spatial where your hands relate to your body in a human way.
To me there is a heavy reinforcement of a strong conscious body connection in VR, and the more we are aware of that when developing content, the more you will feel a deeper presence. I use the metaphor of plugging into as many ports as you can. Having an ambient track of sound and then a dialogue track of sound and then something happening in the distance which is another indication of something happening off screen—all these layers get you deeper and deeper into the immersed state, into presence, and allow you to block everything else and forget the world that exists outside of the experience. I keep looping back to early questions in older art forms because I think they’re interrelated—studying sleight of hand and stagecraft. We want to do things to trick you constantly into thinking you’re completely a part of the story.
I think people need to take more risks with defining the boundaries before we close off things and say this isn’t something that we should be doing. I saw the same exact thing happen when we introduced stereoscopic 3D into film and Cameron came up with these seven rules that you can never break and then 5 years later everyone was breaking those rules and it was because at the moment that that technology released, there was this massive paranoia that we were going to see Jaws 3D from the ’80s again, and everyone thought that was terrible. So the sort of auto-censoring of what’s possible and what’s not possible, what’s good in VR and what’s not good in VR is not necessarily helpful right now. Hopefully there’s just this fringe that continues to push things.
John Bucher: What are your thoughts about the role of social VR in storytelling, and do you think that’s going to be important?
Pete Billington: I had this amazing experience watching the movie Elf in the theater. I watched it twice. The first time I saw it was a matinee, and there were very few people in there and it fell very flat for me. It wasn’t funny. And then I saw it again on a Friday night, with a bunch of people, and it was hilarious. It was because there was a social component where that theater environment actually changed the way I experienced it. I think that’s something theater owners figured out a long time ago. That crowd dynamic is important to the success of a piece in some ways. The ultimate holy grail, I think, is the co-op nature of being in the story together and partnering in a story together. You can imagine being in a story like The Goonies with your friends. That’s the evolution of the Dungeons & Dragons type of storytelling where you are with a group of friends, experiencing a story together, and each of you are playing a role. That’s the Ready Player One concept.
John Bucher: Let’s talk for a second about some of the ethical issues. In the HBO show Westworld, there’s a line from the pilot where one of the characters asks another if they are real. And she responds, “Well, if you can’t tell, does it make any difference?” And I think that is a question for our time.
Pete Billington: It’s going to increasingly make a difference. I was actually reading a Wired article with the creators who commented that she could go play Grand Theft Auto and run down 30 pedestrians, then shut that game off and not really worry about that and move on with her day. But when you are no longer able to discern whether those were real people or not, is there a moral obligation to feel a certain way? Because if you’re not sure, what does that mean?
We’re a long way from that, and I think we all like the idea of creating something that is indiscernible from reality. But as a storyteller, it’s not interesting to simply recreate reality. It’s about asking an existential question. I think there is a moral question at some point. What are you trying to evoke in humanity with the things that you are saying? And are you bringing good to the world, or are you bringing negativity to the world?
John Bucher: Is there such thing as a responsibility of the storyteller, or is the storyteller’s responsibility just to tell a good story and then let people interpret it?
Pete Billington: That’s a tough one. I think certain artists would say that they just are true to themselves and they want to create work for themselves and it’s up to everyone else to interpret it. Some people define art that way. I think personally in the content that I create, I’m very conscious of how I want the audience to feel and think. It’s very intentional. So I do feel responsible for the things that I put out in the world. I think that’s a personal choice as an artist.
Jessica Shamash: I’m in the same boat as Pete. I feel responsible for the content that I put out there, but there are artists that don’t have that motive. For me, there is a responsibility there, especially as we are walking into this VR world.
John Bucher: Most people who study scriptwriting and story take an Aristotelian approach. There is a basic three-act structure. Some people get more dogmatic about specific beats or sequence or having four acts. How do these approaches fit with VR?
Pete Billington: Three acts are not out the window completely, in my view. Our stories are limited to a certain scale and size right now. There’s not $200 million budgets for VR projects yet, which then implies that they’re not going to be 2 hours long. It is a social experience at the moment. I think pacing figures greatly in to why things are currently often in a three-act structure. How long can someone sit in a coliseum on a stone bench before they have to get up and go to the bathroom?
In terms of storytelling and how we’ve been conditioned to hear stories, I think it’s not something we throw out entirely. But what is interesting is to see how that needs to change when interactivity comes into play. Specific beat structures don’t necessarily apply right now because we don’t have productions long enough to support them. So you can try to shrink them and move them around, and that might be a good starting place. There are so many stories that have successfully leveraged that model that we should always be looking back. I subscribe to the Joseph Campbell idea that we’re telling the same story over and over again. So I think it’s a guide.
I would lean towards the mythological in storytelling. I think the (Plato’s) cave metaphor is absolutely accurate. As we get into seeing avatars for the first time, we’re talking about masks and the masks that we wear, how we represent ourselves to others, especially when we are now telling the stories socially. I also think being in a space is a universal human thing that we can relate to, much more than cultural-specific language of pacing or structure or composition. Because you put a human into a space, and for the most part they are interpreting that space in the same way.
John Bucher: Jessica, can you speak to the gender piece in VR? Is there a difference with perception in VR between men and women? Is it a good opportunity to try on someone else’s skin?
Jessica Shamash: I think it’s an amazing opportunity to try on someone else’s skin. Not just as a woman, but what does it feel like to be a minority, or what does it feel like to be someone who’s gay, walking their partner down the street, how do people react to you then? I think VR will continue to be amazing at creating empathy for all our differences. Because you get to see the world through someone else’s eyes. So the more we can explore that and expose other people to that, the more empathy we can create in this world.

Concepts to Consider from Jessica Shamash and Pete Billington

  • We connect to stories through how we empathize with characters.
  • VR storytelling connects to something primal within the viewer.
  • The more layers included in an experience, the deeper the immersion in that experience.
  • VR storytelling will continue to become more social in its opportunities.
  • There are ethical considerations that should underpin the creation of Virtual Reality and its related technologies.
  • Three-act structure should not be thrown out when creating VR stories.
  • VR stories offer the opportunity to be immersed in the skin of someone of a different gender, ethnicity, culture, or class, thus creating a greater sense of empathy for humanity.

Putting Ideas Together

While Shamash and Billington introduce a variety of different concepts around VR storytelling, we can boil their comments down to issues of immersion. We experience empathy through characters. The more realistic and human-like the characters are, the greater the immersive experience for the viewer. Narrative and descriptive layers are what make those characters realistic and relatable. The more we can share those characters with friends and family and, perhaps more importantly, the experience we have with those characters, the greater the potential will be for even greater immersion. Our minds and bodies are what create these experiences of empathy and emotion. Understanding how they respond to and craft narrative is essential for creators who wish to bring their stories into this emerging arena.

Notes

1Haven, Kendall. Story Proof: The Science Behind the Startling Power of Story. Westport, CT: Libraries Unlimited, 2007. Print.

2Boyd, Brian. On the Origin of Stories: Evolution, Cognition, and Fiction. Cambridge, MA: Belknap of Harvard University Press, 2009. Print.

3Mattson, Mark P. “Superior Pattern Processing Is the Essence of the Evolved Human Brain.” Frontiers in Neuroscience 8 (2014): n. pag. Web.

4Cohn, Neil, Martin Paczynski, Ray Jackendoff, Phillip J. Holcomb, and Gina R. Kuperberg. “(Pea)nuts and Bolts of Visual Narrative: Structure and Meaning in Sequential Image Comprehension.” Cognitive Psychology 65.1 (2012): 1–38. Web.

5Melia, Mike. “The Science of Storytelling: A conversation with Jonathan Gottschall.” www.pbs.org/newshour/rundown/on-the-science-of-storytelling/

6Baileya, Jakki O., Jeremy N. Bailensona, and Daniel Casasanto. “When Does Virtual Embodiment Change Our Minds?” https://vhil.stanford.edu/mm/2016/10/bailey-presence-change-our-minds.pdf

7Ahn, Sun Joo (Grace), Joshua Bostick, Elise Ogle, Kristine L. Nowak, Kara T. McGillicuddy, and Jeremy N. Bailenson. “Experiencing Nature: Embodying Animals in Immersive Virtual Environments Increases Inclusion of Nature in Self and Involvement With Nature.” https://vhil.stanford.edu/mm/2016/08/ahn-jcmc-experiencing-nature.pdf

8Ahn, Sun Joo (Grace). “Embodying Animals in Immersive Virtual Environments.” https://vhil.stanford.edu/mm/2016/02/ahn-experiencing-nature.pdf

9Magliano, Joseph P., and Jeffrey M. Zacks. “The Impact of Continuity: Editing in Narrative Film on Event Segmentation.” Cognitive Science 35.8 (2011): 1489–1517. Web.

10Delafield-Butt, Jonathan T. and Colwyn Trevarthen. “The Ontogenesis of Narrative: From Moving to Meaning.” Frontiers in Psychology 6 (2015): n. pag. Web.

11Searles, Rebecca. “Virtual Reality Can Leave You With an Existential Hangover.” www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2016/12/post-vr-sadness/511232/

12McLean, Kate. “Late Adolescent Identity Development: Narrative Meaning Making and Memory Telling.” Developmental Psychology 41.4 (2005): 683–691. Web.

13Fireman, Gary and Ted McVay. Narrative and Consciousness: Literature, Psychology, and the Brain. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. Print.

14Fivush, Robyn and Tilmann Habermas, Theodore E.A. Waters, and Widaad Zaman. “The Making of Autobiographical Memory: Intersections of Culture, Narratives and Identity.” International Journal of Psychology 46.5 (2011): 321–345. Web.

15A definition given by Matthias Worch and Harvey Smith at GDC 2010, San Francisco, CA.

16Jenkins, Henry. “Games and Narrative.” http://web.mit.edu/21fms/People/henry3/games&narrative.html6

17Shepard, Mike. “Interactive Storytelling—Narrative Techniques and Methods in Video Games.” http://scalar.usc.edu/works/interactive-storytelling-narrative-techniques-and-methods-in-video-games/environmental-storytelling

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