Hmm this is really insightful. That's a good way to look at designing games with stories. This thread is actually pretty productive I think , people have said some stuff that has got me really thinking.
Nate, man, you quoted the wrong post.
And this is the problem when you think of a video game as with the sort of narrative you'd expect from a book or movie. You shouldn't be asking yourself if the character is capable of doing a specific task, because of course he is! The game clearly gives this character the potential to overcome the obstacles set before him, or the game is unwinnable. Because of this, it's more important that the player asks if they are going to be able to do it.
We have the power to simulate actions and give people the opportunity to do all sorts of things they would never do in real life, the power to organize complex rulesets in an inexpensive, consequence-free environment. That's what video games are, that's their greatest strength. But for some reason, you think that the only times when games are breaking the mold and pushing the envelope is when they are doing the exact same things that movies and books have been doing FOR ALL OF HISTORY: telling stories and making the player think about the narrative being described to him. I can't understand this at all. Games are really doing something special when they're playing up the strengths of the artform, not when they're clumsily integrating the strengths of all the others.
Not only that, but consider Braid, one of the most famous and successful artgames ever. Except lo and behold: Braid exhibits a disconnect between narrative and game design that is far more vast than that of ANY commercial game I've ever played, God of War included. It's to the point where the entire playable game tells one story, and a massive wall of text included at the start of every level tells incomprehensible snippets of a completely different story. I think it might actually have been Braid, with its narrative so obscure, so grandiose and so utterly disconnected from everything I was actually enjoying in the game, that tipped me off to this whole principle in the first place.
Really this contrast exists in every game, no matter what, because the narrative is always something that can be disregarded more easily than the game. A lot of people probably know this from experience skipping cutscenes to "get back to the game". I'd attribute that to the immersiveness of simulation compared to that of a story.
On the subject of visual novels (apparently Gilbert mentioned this at one point), I'd just say this: brevity is the soul of wit. So if you're telling a story, distract from it as little as possible. If you're making a game, distract from it as little as possible. As far as I can tell, visual novels are as close as a game can get to a story or a comic book, with an utterly negligible amount of BS and fat distracting you from it. I would say that if you wanted to make a game about a story, this is the best way. But then, I see something like
Homestuck, and I'm forced to reconsider even that. If Homestuck was actually an adventure game, I don't think I'd enjoy it nearly as much.