Wednesday 1 January 2014

Adding a bit of theatre

Back in late November, my tutor Josh threw two brilliant suggestions at me.  The first concerned a deeper analysis of nostalgia triggers; the second addressed an area which I had paid scant attention to, but which I now realise is a major tool of the arsenal of a game designer: "adding a bit of theatre".

Probably the most common theatrics are event-driven animations (or automated actions) with accompanying sound effects, such as explosions or character/NPC death sequences.  These are pretty much a necessity because the game would seem strange without them.

However, any other theatrics -- special animations or sound effects, Easter eggs or special effects -- will undoubtedly take time & effort to produce, adding to the cost of development of a game.  Therefore the decision to include them is significant; a designer (and, critically, a project manager) must ask: "will it add value?"

Such features are usually put into a product at the design stage, because it may be difficult to add new features during the build cycle.  (My conversations with a local game QA specialist opened my eyes to the need to lock down designs tightly to avoid feature creep.)

An end-of-level celebration from the stunning Super Mario 3D World featuring confetti, characters jumping around in costume, and lots of sparkles.
I've become fascinated by the fact that many theatrics in games are optional extras -- sequences that appear to be unnecessary but in fact form part of the cumulative appeal of a game, or adjust the narrative flow.

Making the mundane more special


The seminal DMA/Psygnosis game Lemmings featured 8x8-pixel characters with a fairly simple walk cycle.  According to historical accounts, programmer Mike Dailly produced a basic animation which was then enhanced by animator Gary Timmons.  This improved walk cycle enhances the charm & appeal of the game tremendously, adding personality to the character.

(left) Original walk cycle
(right) Improved walk cycle

Sometimes the value is quite subtle.  Josh drew my attention to the AMEE robot in the film Red Planet, which unfolds in a satisfying and creative manner.  The result evokes a reaction of "that's cool!" in the viewer, enhancing their enjoyment of the overall film (although not enough in the case of that particular film, which flopped badly).

The more spectacular the theatre, the more the player will want to see it again.  This type of idea has a long history in the "coin drop" psychology of arcades & casinos, and is a major feature on many pinball tables.  Just like a Las Vegas fruit machine which employs "extra rattle" when ejecting winning winnings, some games utilise machine-gun-style explosion sequences or shaking to emphasise a big event.

An "ice storm" on Bejeweled 3.  You can see this -- and other animations from the game -- in this short gameplay video.

Narrative flow adjustment


A level may sometimes need boosting to create a climax of some kind at the end of a stage.  This may double-up as a reward for the player, such as a celebration of achievement.

The example below shows this very well.  Two pieces of a relic must be reconnected.  At this point the game might have simply flashed-up an image showing the complete relic.  However, by showing the two pieces coming together -- not just jammed together but rotated, with an eased deceleration -- the event takes on a more magical (and significant) role.

The reunited pieces of the Triforce of Wisdom from Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker

As Alfred Hitchcock demonstrated, why have a simple fight when you can instead have a fight on an out-of-control merry-go-round?  Theatrics can be used to increase tension.  I managed to do this myself by accident when testing Weeble physics a year ago.  In the animation below, the egg teeters and only just stays on the trailer when it moves.


The flip side of this is the use of theatrics as comic relief.  Cartoons such as Top Cat often employed this, countering boring exposition with background visual antics.  There's a gorgeous example of this in the first minute of the introduction to Orson Welles' Magnificent Ambersons (1942), where a horse-drawn omnibus breaks down outside a house, with visual cues perfectly timed to draw audience focus to-and-from the accompanying narration.

The Money Shot


Some theatrics form a major part of the appeal of the product, especially at the promotional or advertising stage.  A disproportionate investment in small parts may yield increased sales.

Battle Chess (Commodore Amiga, 1988) was a basic chess game which included animated "take" sequences which, on its release, became a must-see for small crowds at my local computer club.  The board game was brought to life with a wide range of variant deaths (including one where a character was sliced in half, sliding apart), some paying tribute to popular movie scenes.


Microsoft's much-berated Windows Vista software included a new feature called "Flip 3D" which allowed users to cycle through windows at a perspective angle.  Some critics argued that this was a flashy & useless addition, duplicating an existing "switch task" function.   However, they missed the point.  Vista had a PR problem before it even launched: the main changes to the software were "under the bonnet", and there was very little that stood out as a "soundbite" for reviews.  Flip 3D was not aimed at the user; it was aimed at magazine articles which needed screenshots, to add a promotional "wow" factor.


Latent theatre


One of the main things I picked up from Josh is the idea of latent theatre.  Some objects have a potential dynamic that just screams out "something can happen here!"


Josh's examples included:
  • A partially unspooled cassette tape sat beside a pencil
  • A top-loading VHS player, waiting to be pushed down
  • A stuck-down spring jumping toy
Having cogitated on this, I realised that this works best with devices that have a self-evident or well-known mechanic, especially when "primed" (i.e. set up ready for an obvious action).  Other examples are:
  • A big red button.  Must be red.  Must be fairly big.  Preferably with a sign saying "Do not press".  Regardless of the outcome -- and there must be an outcome, no matter how small -- this is a hard thing to resist.
  • Any item poised at the edge of a diving platform.  (This works better if the platform protrudes, to imply that the object is meant to fall.)
  • In a similar vein, a plastic ruler jutting out from the edge of a desk, waiting to be "twanged".
  • A match sitting near a matchbox.
  • Firework, rocket or dynamite with a prominent fuse and nearby flame source.

This is a fascinating area, suitable for much deeper study at another juncture.