Games Editor Joshua McCormack has an in-depth look at the history of LGBTQ+ characters in video games.
It's almost impossible to pin the game's industry to a precise age.
We could use Pong as our benchmark – 1958. But then there are arcades to consider; veritable money printers at their height, the strobe-lit social venue which burned like a fire in the minds of every seventies and eighties kid – 1971. Or do you set your compass by what dominates the modern scene: home gaming? Not easy to wrestle that confused beast into an especially nascent date either. No, the history of gaming does not sit easily with calendars and chronicles … and much like the industry as a whole, the emergence of LGBTQ+ representation is no exception.
The history of gaming does not sit easily with calendars and chronicles … and much like the industry as a whole, the emergence of LGBTQ+ representation is no exception.
Caper in the Castro, Moonmist and Le Crime du Parking; 1989, 1986 & 1985 respectively, are the contenders for the crown of being the first videogame to introduce LGBTQ+ characters. Springing from what's arguably the most niche, obscure genre in gaming: text-command murder-mysteries. Sad to say, in both Parking and Moonmist, the queer characters are cast as villains; jealous lovers, used as crude, insensitive plot devices.
Not so much with Caper in the Castro.
Serving as an ode to the San Francisco Queer community, this detective story was released in 1989 as charityware: i.e., in exchange for the game, the customer needed only to donate to an AIDS charity. "It's not just a game … It's a gayme!" the emphatic declaration of the game's title screen; throughout the tale, indie-developer CM Ralph suffuses the game with her passion for the LGBTQ+ community, giving us a mystery-yawn which follows Tracker McDyke, a detective who happens to be lesbian, as she investigates the disappearance of a Drag Queen in California's Castro area.
Truly, this deserves to be recognised as the first LGBTQ+ game.
But, landmark as it was, Castro was, and remains, an obscure title whose impact, while profound in many corners, didn't carry much weight in the industry and wider society.
And thus we must cast our eyes from the eighties and nineties into the 2000s, toward the studio destined to become the frontrunner in pushing queer characters and themes to the forefront: Bioware.
Boasting such titles as The Mass Effect and Dragon Age franchises; as well as being entrusted with some of the world's most famous and lucrative franchises – Star Wars and Dungeons & Dragons – Bioware had the platform required to bring LGBTQ+ identities to the forefront of their games. Creating Star Wars' first LGBTQ+ character, Juhani; introducing bisexual romance options in their epic-fantasy RPG, Dragon Age: Origins; writing fully-realised gay relationship options in their military sci-fi Mass Effect 3.
Bioware had the platform required to bring LGBTQ+ identities to the forefront of their games.
And, in 2014, their efforts culminated in the debut of Dorian in Dragon Age: Inquisition, the triple-A gaming industry's first exclusively gay character.
The witty, confident, at times arrogant sorcerer rose to become a fan-favourite amidst the queer and non-queer fans of the game. Available as a romantic partner for the player, what makes Dorian's character truly shine is the fact that the creators forged beyond the tokenistic, check-box path that many studios took when it came to queer representation; here, they gave Dorian depth and motivation, imbued him with virtues and flaws … treated him like any other character.
What makes Dorian's character truly shine is the fact that the creators forged beyond the tokenistic, check-box path that many studios took when it came to queer representation.
But, however groundbreaking Dorian and all of Bioware's other initiatives were, there remains a fatal flaw locked into games with queer characters, that renders much of the good work mute: optionality.
All these relationships, characters and themes, however faithful and well-drawn, can't help but fail because, ultimately, there are almost always optional elements of the narrative, easily ignored by players who'd rather not be confronted by them.
This is the final frontier for LGBTQ+ representation in games: triple-A titles led by queer characters, LGBTQ+ identities being irrevocable parts of the narrative. Thus far, the Last of Us Part II – Ellie, the lead, is lesbian – is the only blockbuster title to have achieved this summit.
Many strides have been made, but many more are left to go.