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Features

Indie Game Jam 2004:
Fun and Frustration in Physics
Unscripted Entertainment
While he's not a programmer, game writer Austin Grossman was perhaps
the most vocal physics proponent at the Jam. "People don't
realize how hard they have to work, to build an environment where
they can't script things, they can't control things--they have to
create a cool environment where players can make up activities for
themselves and creatively solve problems." Grossman spoke as
he worked to tune Chris Hecker's hopper game, designed around a
small jumping figure who aims his leaps to climb a series of obstacles.
Grossman was providing the obstacles. His belief in the open-endedness
of physics-based gameplay conflicts somewhat with his work as a
writer: "Physics tends to sit on the antithesis of traditional
narrative, because it's so unscripted. You play around and cool
emergent stuff comes out, but you totally can't predict it. The
visceral toy-likeness of [a physics-based game] is a reflection
of how interactive it is, and how far it is from our traditional
ideas of narrative media. It plays much more like a sport than a
movie."
Independent programmer consultant and Game Developer magazine
contributor Jonathan Blow designed a spider's web simulation that
was engaging to play from the start. Even without goals, building,
cutting, and climbing around the web was fun, and this may have
slowed its development: "It actually wastes a lot of time."
Cocking his head, Blow continues, "I sorta veg out, like playtesting
here a bit when I should be working on the next thing, because you
know I'm just kinda walking around, hooking up some webs."
If the fun was there from the start, the gameplay emerged later,
over the course of the few days available; Blow later added scorekeeping
with flies to capture and consume.
The Bare Minimum of Fun
Nearly all of the games at this year's Indie Game Jam used PlayStation2
Dual Shock controllers attached to desktops or personal laptops
via USB. Thatcher Ulrich from Oddworld Inhabitants in San Luis Obispo
developed a game featuring a pair of tippy robots equipped with
oversized arms, which danced and boxed according to a very few button
presses on the controller. The robots were hard to control exactly,
but this imprecision made the button mashing fun. "I thought
I was going to do a dancing game, a music game of some type, but
a fighting game is easier to make," Thatcher says with a smile.
His game emerged from fooling around with frustration: "I got
pretty discouraged with the difficulty of making a physical game.
So then I said I'm just going to play around, make some toy robots.
And the toy robots worked pretty well. So that suggested the game."
During the jam there were plenty of shouts from Thatcher's corner
of the room; people enjoyed the wiggly robot whacking. Thatcher
is a Game Jam veteran: "As someone who works in the game industry
full time, I've done more game design in three weekends at the Indie
Game Jam than I have in almost my entire career of game development.
That's maybe a little bit of an exaggeration, but it's very educational,
in terms of learning what goes into a game, and what the bare minimum
is to make something fun."
Considering the length of time the designer-programmers had, and
their total unfamiliarity with the engine, the fun that emerged
from this year's Jam was remarkable.
Ranjit Bhatnagar from New York City's GameLab built a game where
two players worked wasps to lift and coax a collection of small
round foodstuffs into each of their own wasp pantries. Using fluttering
wings to move small balls proved maddening and tantalizing, even
without another wasp there to send the balls rolling out of your
hole and into their own. Like Ulrich's game, the bugs were hard
to control precisely, but this gave the game a jerky insects-in-flight
feeling. Bhatnagar sat smiling as a string of opponents attempted
to out-maneuver his wasp. He had co-designed the game with Michael
Sweet, who was providing music and sounds at the Jam for the second
year in a row.
Support Staff
Sweet was one of a number of artists and support staff who added
a good amount of polish to these quickie game designs. After the
first year when visitors were drafted into art duties, the Jam began
recruiting a few skilled artists to work with the programmers during
the weekend. This year, Ryan Ellis from OddWorld Inhabitants led
a team of professional game industry visual artists, contributing
to the games-in-progress. The team included Daniel Neuburger from
Crystal Dynamics and Ocean Quigley from Maxis. "Front-load
your art" the organizers repeated throughout the weekend, demonstrating
the steadily increasing value of a finite number of artists available
for just four days. While the games themselves used a 2D engine,
Ellis and company contributed 3D and 2D models and backdrops for
most of the games. A filmmaker Ryan Junell and I were on hand to
document the Jam, both of us were drafted to make some quick and
dirty visuals as well.
Some programmers provided their own polish. Chaim Gingold from
Maxis placed two trees on the screen that swayed as players rocked
their joysticks. His game was cooperative - fruit lay on the ground
below the trees, and two players could only pick it all up if they
swung in tandem together. With colorful sunburst designs and a team
spirit, Gingold's game was the most positive human use of physics.
And to boot, Gingold's game had a bright polished aesthetic. Demurring,
Gingold explained, "The code looks like crap and the design
is very simple." But his game looked--and played--like a weekend
wedding between Nintendo and Apple.
Marc LeBlanc may have made the most gleefully sociopathic game
this year. LeBlanc, who worked on Mind-Control's Oasis, wanted
to use buoyancy to hold a game together, a game where heavy pieces
were used to make light pieces sank. Writer Austin Grossman suggested
LeBlanc consider floating corpses in the East River, and Sleep
wit' da Fishes resulted. Each year at the Jam, one game features
faces of the Indie Game Jammers; this year dead-looking programmers
bobbed up and down in water as players dropped anvils in order to
keep their buoyant bodies pinned to the bottom of the riverbed.
Charles Bloom from Oddworld Inhabitants built a two-player game:
two ships orbiting a giant sucking black hole. This is Bloom's third
year, and each year he made something multiplayer: "I came
to realize that it's a lot more fun to have multiplayer games where
you can interact with people at the Jam and play the games."
Bloom's game had recognizable space-combat dynamics and a strong
physics flavor: "It's a space shooting game where the idea
is that you're not directly damaging your opponent, you're not shooting
them with normal weapons at all. So you don't have health. You're
just using the physics interactions to knock each other around."
It takes a moment of adjustment, to play in the physics space instead
of the shooting space: "Everything has realistic mass and momentum.
And like one of the cool things is that you actually propel yourself
by shooting masses out the back of the ship. And then you can collide
with them too, once they are made. You have to use your thrust as
part of your strategy, you can use it as a shield, you have to worry
about colliding it, you actually get propelled as it piles up behind
you and moves your ship around."
Chris Carollo from Ion Storm in Austin wanted to make a four-player
game. He ended up with Pig Plow--a mess of slippery pigs
scooting around a giant pen, policed by four plows eager to push
pigs into their particular corner's gate. Carollo's game featured
porcine physics power-ups, immediately reversing gravity or scattering
pigs. He's a vegetarian, he explains, nodding with raised eyebrows,
and these pigs are going to a happy place.
"Deepen into the right thumbstick of the
PS2 controller"
Brian Sharp from Ion Storm developed a Yoga pose simulator using
just a single analog thumbstick for control--left and right adjusted
the lean, up and down adjusted the tension. Not content with his
early stick-figure model, Sharp photographed and adapted the body
parts of famous Yogi BKS Iyengar from his book "Light on Yoga."
This was perhaps the most amusing design of the weekend, showing
Iyengar struggling to keep his balance amidst the pages of his own
book. Sharp described his game: "It's very cathartic! Actually,
it's not cathartic at all. I have to be honest here, it's very tense.
You're just sitting here balancing. As opposed to Thatcher's game,
where you're just punching people. No punching." Sharp thinks
for a minute: "Maybe it's meditative. If you get into it, just
like any good Yoga pose, you can really deepen into the right thumbstick
of the PS2 controller."
Independent programmer Atman Binstock had developed the engine,
so much of his time was devoted to teaching and maintenance. He
spoke some comforting words on the opening day: "Understanding
the limitations of a physics engine is very hard, it takes a long
time, I've been working with this code for two years and I still
don't understand it." Between his duties Binstock still managed
to polish up a physics game. His goal was to make a game world that
moved in time with music, and a directly controlled character: a
dancing shrimp had a head and tail that could latch on to objects,
thereby propelling itself, or in-turn moving the object, deforming
the level
Between rounds of testing and designing, small and large groups
of programmers wandered through the streets of Oakland, enjoying
Tin's Tea House, New World Vegetarian, or seven courses of beef
at Le Cheval. The IGJ isn't simply about games, it's a sort of community
of programmers. When it comes time to order pizza, co-organizer
Chris Hecker calls out: "Okay guys--how hungry are you, on
a scale of 0 to 1?" After tallying the empty bellies and desired
slices, someone does the math and asks "Can we order 6.75 pizzas?"
"Oh my God, we're doomed; nothing works"
The Indie Game Jam is not easy. A short deadline to code PC games,
using console controllers connected to a fleet of loaned computers,
sharing an evolving codebase over a temporary network, and situated
in a multiple-use facility presented a non-stop series of interruptions
and demands for logistical and tech support. Add to that the pressure
to make something fun out of an unfamiliar game engine, and it's
a miracle that games come out playable, and participants come out
eager to return.
Casey Muratori took a break from his exploration of flaming hamster
physics to explain the virtues of the Jam. Sure anyone could work
on a game alone in her free time. But: "There's the atmosphere
with lots of really smart technical good game developers, to help
you, to bounce ideas off of. Most of the best ideas in the thing
I'm working on, were not mine, they were things that were stumbled
upon or someone came by and said 'the problem with this game is
that it doesn't have blah,' and they were totally right." It's
not just programmers, however - there's a wide range of folks on
hand: "We've got artists here, we've got musicians, there's
people to do things that are not in my line of expertise. It's got
a little microcosm of a game development house in it, enough that
you can produce things that are much better than you could have
done yourself."
Doug Church shares a bit of the uneasiness that leads up to the
Jam: "Every year, a couple days before the event, it's like
'Oh my God, we're doomed; nothing works.' Then in practice, it's
kinda true that nothing works, but you just throw everyone into
the middle of the fire and things come out." After coming down
off of the rush of dense game design and then sharing the game designs
at the Game Developer's Conference's Experimental Gameplay Workshop,
the organizers were loath to predict next year's Indie Game Jam.
Opening the event at 11:30pm the first day, Chris Hecker joked "If
you don't get it right this time, we're doing physics again next
year!" You can visit www.indiegamejam.com,
download games and source code, and decide for yourself how the
experiments came out.
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