The annual video game award circuit—a flurry of anticipation, celebration, and inevitable controversy—often spotlights technical mastery and groundbreaking design. Yet, year after year, one specific category exposes a fundamental disconnect between the ceremony and the reality of modern game development: the award for `Best Performance.`
The core issue is that many modern gaming heroes and villains are not singular creations. They are Frankensteinian composites, seamlessly stitched together by the voices, bodies, and technical expertise of multiple dedicated actors. This situation was thrust into the spotlight recently by Maxence Cazorla, the motion capture (mo-cap) actor behind the character Gustave in the critically acclaimed game, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33.
The Tale of Two Gustaves
At The Game Awards (TGA), the nomination for Gustave`s performance went exclusively to Charlie Cox, the voice actor. While Cox’s vocal delivery was undeniably essential, Cazorla’s contribution—the physical manifestation, the movement, the body language captured in a black Lycra suit—was the foundation of Gustave’s presence. This division of labor is common practice, but the awards structure conveniently pretends it doesn`t exist.
Cazorla’s argument is pragmatic and technical: isolating a single element of a performance—be it the voice or the face—renders the rest of the creative team invisible. He pointed out that Gustave, much like other characters in Expedition 33 (Maelle, Lune, Verso), is a blend of contributions. It is a partnership, not a solo act.
“A character like Gustave is a combination of these two performances,” Cazorla explained, referencing his physical contributions and Cox`s voice. He also emphasized the `incredible writing and development work` that shapes the final result.
There is a small, necessary caveat to this drama: Cox himself handled the situation with professional grace, publicly acknowledging Cazorla’s essential work. This gesture, while moving, only highlighted the failure of the institution itself to provide that necessary recognition.
When Technology Outpaces Tradition
The persistence of the single `Best Performance` category stems from a bygone era when a single actor, perhaps, handled both voice and physical capture, or when graphics were too rudimentary to require detailed motion tracking. That era is over. Today`s AAA (and many high-end indie) titles rely on sophisticated performance capture systems where:
- Voice Actors: Provide the dialogue, emotion, and sometimes, facial capture.
- Motion Capture Actors: Provide the foundational physicality, combat moves, and dramatic blocking.
- Stunt Performers: Handle high-risk or complex physical sequences.
The challenge, as Cazorla notes, is the inherent variety in the pipeline. Some projects, like the character Indiana Jones from a recent title, utilize one actor (Troy Baker) for the full performance capture, simplifying the credit. Other, more complex productions demand specialization. Given this variable technical landscape, how can an award fairly judge “performance”? The answer, according to Cazorla, lies in shifting the focus from the artist to the art itself.
The Logical Solution: Best Character
Cazorla advocates strongly for a `Best Character` category. This shift in nomenclature solves the credit distribution problem instantly. By celebrating the realized character—the culmination of writing, voice, mo-cap, and direction—the award acknowledges the entire creative ecosystem.
This approach is not revolutionary; it’s already implemented by other major industry bodies. The DICE Awards, for instance, have adopted this `Best Character` approach with demonstrable success. It is an intelligent framework that reflects the technical reality of modern game creation rather than shoehorning collaborative work into a restrictive, theatrical definition of `performance.`
The irony is palpable: the gaming industry prides itself on being a leader in technological innovation, yet its celebratory structures remain stubbornly rooted in analog traditions. For an industry that celebrates hyper-realistic digital avatars, it seems absurd to allow the very people who imbue those avatars with life to remain effectively uncredited at the highest levels of recognition.
Maxence Cazorla’s call is a technical necessity disguised as an ethical plea. If The Game Awards wishes to remain relevant as a truly reflective measure of industry excellence, it must acknowledge that performance in 2024 is rarely a monologue; it is an ensemble piece, and every player, visible or otherwise, deserves their bow.
