What Dreams May Come
"I adore simple pleasures. They are the last refuge of the complex." -
Oscar Wilde
Hopefully by now most of you understand that there is a problem. Moreover, we looked at defining the problem through the three different barriers. But where do we go from here? This is probably the most important question of all.
What would you say if there was a way to have our hypothetical cake and eat it too -- a device that can bridge the gap between old and new while still allowing classic design concepts to stay relevant? For the first time in the history of the industry, I can say now that such a device is indeed available to the public. It takes the form of the Nintendo DS portable game console.
In its own way, the DS is a small glance at the future of interactive entertainment. It's no show-stopper, nor is it the most robust piece of consumer electronics released to date. That is all irrelevant, however, as the DS' intention is to break new ground in subtle-yet-commanding ways. The most important of which is through the diverse input devices.
The Nintendo DS is arguably the first gaming device that can offer genuine universal appeal. Included in the system are a touch screen, microphone, and a host of classic controller features such as a digital pad with face and shoulder buttons. The ground-breaking feature is not that you can play games with a single finger, nor is it that you have two screens and voice recognition. The ground-breaking, almost revolutionary aspect of the system, is that no wall exists between complex and simple games. The great divide between the two polarities has been abolished in one fell swoop with intuitive input devices that facilitate all types of games.
One game I had the fortune of playing demonstrated the potential for the long forgotten simple-yet-complex game mechanics of old. With just one finger (or pen stylus) you draw clouds on the screen to guide your avatar to safety. While doing so, you could also draw cloud circles around enemies, where the game would quickly recognize your action and turn said baddie into a coin as reward for your masterful stroke. Shortly after, I tinkered with some complex games that, at times, require all face buttons to be used while navigating through complex 3D worlds. In one sitting and one device, I experienced both elegant simplicity and sharply challenging complex titles.
Miyamoto: Looking at society as a whole, we've come to understand that there are people who play video games and people who don't. That sense of crisis really does exist, doesn't it? During the Famicom [Editor's note: This is the Nintendo Entertainment System] era, anyone could play.
Hamamura: It was new to everyone.
Miyamoto: Right, right. [Smiles] When we made Super Mario back then, people would react by saying, "Ah!" When we make Mario nowadays, people only say, "Oh." [Smiles painfully] Since we want their attention, I think we're making games on the DS that anyone can play.
The device is not without faults, as is the case with every piece of electronics, but what is there is incredibly impressive, from a game design standpoint. Up until now, the interactive entertainment industry was guided with the intention to give the fans what they asked for. The canvas, if you will, was limited to certain colors or styles with very strict and apparent boundaries dictated by the core users of the product. Today, we see a glimmer of the future in an entertainment device that offers an open canvas, ready for any variety of paints or styles to be applied -- ultimately opening channels for would-be players. As we learned though, the interface barrier is only one of three, and no matter how important it is we cannot make the perfect stride if we do not make efforts in the other problem areas. Let's take a look at what else we can do.
To start, I want to touch upon what a game like ICO shows in terms of potential direction for the industry. For starters, the game is played out through only a handful of concrete actions by the player. From the perspective of the logical barriers, this instantly alleviates a great deal of the problems. This much was the primary topic of conversation in our study, as you will recall.
But there are other elements that are equally important. Put simply - ICO is "game as art." This is something that is conveyed through the powerful underlying themes and tones present throughout the game. One such example is the presence of "emotional reality" as director Fumito Ueda lovingly called it. This abstract concept has subtleties about it that a player may never consciously realize. Imagine if you will a photograph of a lone tree in a giant grassy field. In your mind's eye you can see the old tree with rich green leaves, soaking in the last bit of sun before dusk. By seeing this tree with golden light shimmering through the leaves, you are left captivated and thoughtful. This image, according to Ueda-san, would create a subtle emotional impression on you even with little in the way of physical activity.
It doesn't end there, either. Something more direct in nature was the use of "subtractive design." The development team that crafted ICO sought after elements to remove, rather than elements to add. At first this seems like a backwards way of doing things, which tells you straight away that these chaps are thinking outside of the box. But the end product was proof that the idea was sound; by concentrating on only a few different ideas in the game, all action therein became meaningful.
In ICO's case, the idea was to create a fantastical scenario for you to act out through the given characters. By simulating a fantasy world, it is said to be using a game design metaphor, as the simulation in this case is said to be "like" something and not actually "the thing" itself. Game developer Clint Hocking, a designer at Ubi Soft Montreal, had some interesting thoughts regarding actions within a game design metaphor:
"By limiting the player to meaningful actions, all action becomes meaningful." - Clint Hocking (re: game design boundaries)
By only giving the player meaningful actions, his or her time with the game will no doubt become meaningful. With ICO, the idea of "subtractive design" was to put elements in that would be of extraordinarily high quality and have meaning or purpose within the game's design metaphor. To Ueda-san, a single blemish could shatter the tapestry. If something was only "decent", it would not make the cut. By contrast, most games today are released boasting massive lists of features and game elements, whose execution could range anywhere from decent to poor. However, leaving only the triple-A bits in your title makes for a potential connection between the player and the game world.
The main theme to consider here is the sheer degree of courage needed on the developer's part. Imagine coming into the office, having a large checkbook provided by the higher-ups, and telling your team you want to make a game about escaping from a castle with a little girl and boy. One might not realize how much pure courage is needed to not only fly in the face of accepted tradition, but to also follow it through until the final line of code is written. Particular themes like "game as art", "emotional reality", "communication through empathetic body language", "abstract story", and "minimalist design" are completely abnormal ideas in the industry today. They are simple, albeit somewhat abstract concepts that do not necessarily require experience to understand. Yet today you will see some developers cower by supposedly "upping the ante" with their titles. The truth is that it takes very little courage to back 95 percent of the concepts released today.
For an entertainment industry to be accepted as a suitable artistic medium, it must first be supported by genuine artists who are willing to take risks. Artists who will no doubt explore the boundaries of the medium in the hope of uncovering those untold wonders that lay waiting for us all. Without such visionaries and risk-takers, the modern video game will be hard-pressed to mature.
Coming back to simplicity again, we have yet more things to consider for the future. With the early generation of game players growing up, do they really have the capacity to dedicate multiple hours a day playing video games? The real world is upon many of us already, and no doubt leaves you with far less leisure time than before.
Just recently, Nintendo of America's president of Sales and Marketing, Reginald Fils-Aime, gave a speech where an interesting question was posed - is there such thing as intertainment? By this he meant: is there such thing as a viable game playing time between your daily activities? The answer, for most, is a resounding yes. Products like the Nintendo DS, Game Boy, Cell phone, and even specific games designed for home systems all aim to try and capture some of that "between" time that you might have. One of the interesting things about this "intertainment" is that it might feel like a slightly more responsible use of your time since it never really becomes part of your daily schedule. Instead, this kind of game playing would simply fill in the gaps if there are any present.
Though I may have painted a picture of doom and gloom, there is still a great deal of possibility and hope for the interactive entertainment medium. The fact that we can even reflect on such issues as a community only gives us more strength to push forward. And so it is here that I ask you, the reader, to finally have your say. What do you think about game complexity? Chances are if you are reading this you are already a game player, but for those who are not part of this circle, I implore you to write! (Jason@n-sider.com) It is never too late to change course.
Written by Jason Nuyens