|
As in
past years, Wednesday's Experimental Gameplay session attracted a
throng. Beyond standing-room only, the lecture hall was crowded enough
to concern and irritate the local fire marshal. Ultimately, the session
went on around fifteen minutes longer than expected – and even then,
the presenters had more material than they were able to show.
Comprised
as it was of enthusiastic young developers, eager to show off their new
toys that (in several cases) nobody else is allowed to play with, the
energy level was high, keeping the audience clapping and cheering when
appropriate, and vocalizing when not.
For
an opening act, Daniel Sussman and Eric Brosius from Harmonix blazed
the trail and pleased the crowd with the first public demonstration of
a much-rumored "freestyle" mode, cut from the final version of critical
favorite Guitar Hero. The original premise of the mode was to
allow users to do their own solos in the middle of established tracks.
In testing, users were found impatient wading through the motions,
waiting for their jamtime to begin – so instead the mode was altered to
allow noodling over the entire length of a track.
MIDI
guitar sounds were specially welded together with unique starts, stops,
and transitions, to keep them from sounding too regular. When a user
began to strum manically, a preprogrammed sequence of notes was
triggered to make the performance sound halfway-decent. Similarly,
anything off-tune was quickly bent to the nearest appropriate note. The
whole idea was to make anything played sound as awesome as possible, no
actual talent required.
Apparently,
the reasons behind the mode's omission were both complex and kind of
obvious in retrospect. The biggest problem is that, with the available
sample memory and time allotted for adjustment, they just couldn't get
it to sound as good as they wanted.
The
other issues are more relative. For one, it was unclear how to fit the
freestyle mode into an established design model; for another, it was
hard to wrap the brain around how to teach the mode, with all its
bizarre shortcuts, to players – especially those with no musical
experience. All things considered, that problem seemed against the
intent of Guitar Hero, which was to allow anyone the opportunity to sound like an expert without having to worry about the technical details.
As
for the details, the mode offered all manner of special tricks; among
other things, the user could use shortcuts to toggle between higher and
lower keys, and could – in theory – hold the guitar vertically to
trigger feedback. The idea there was to get the player to pose
ridiculously, again to carry across the "rock star" feeling as much as
possible. Unfortunately, the guitars at hand during the demonstration
were not calibrated as well as they might have been. Following several
unsuccessful attempts to show off the feedback feature, the Harmonix
representative lifted the prop high into the air and swung it to the
hall floor, like an axe, shattering it to pieces, eliciting nervous
stares from his partners and deafening cheers from the audience.
Downbeat
With
the spectacle out of the way, the more serious exploration began; first
up was a demonstration of the design process behind a rhythm-based
casual game by the name of Downbeat by Nick Fortugno and Peter
Nicolai of GameLab. For clear reasons, beat-matching games are uncommon
in the casual sector: they require a certain degree of skill, in an
area where not everyone is proficient.
Beyond
that, the whole theory behind casual games is to constantly reaffirm
the player in her actions – especially early on. To contrast, most
rhythm games are based around practicing a piece over and over, royally
screwing up for ages, until eventually you're proficient enough to move
on to a harder piece – which you then proceed to screw up again. So in
a sense, the whole established (though not necessarily ideal) pattern
of rhythm games is backward, from an accessibility standpoint.
The
developers walked the audience through several experimental prototypes
in an attempt to work out just what element made a rhythm game tick
from a playability standpoint. They began with a grid littered with
monsters, and a tempo meter at the bottom. The player was to navigate
her way around the grid, touching the squares in a particular pattern
while avoiding the monsters. It soon became obvious that, while
hardcore players found the game kind of terrific, there were way too
many variables for a casual gamer to keep track of – most of which were
beside the point of it being a rhythm game.
The
next model involved a sort of tile-based puzzle game with a Jenga-like
stack of tiles that kept rising toward an event horizon toward the top
of the screen. The player was to do something unspecified with the
tiles before they hit the top of the screen, and in time with the
music. The speaker breezed past the model without much explanation,
stating that it simply wasn't any fun. For his next trick, he tried
making the rhythm part of the gameboard rather than something the
player had to keep track of manually. The screen depicted a web of
circles that slowly pulsed in time with a dinky MIDI rendition of
Devo's "Whip It". The player was to move the mouse around and click on
the circles in order, as they reached their correct states. Not only
was this model boring; it also failed to convey a feeling that the
player was in any way "performing" or connected with the music.
Eventually, they showed a model involving four rough Saturday Night Fever-style
dance floors, and an incoming sequence of colored dots that the player
was to click on, to cause dancers to gravitate to the respective dance
floors. Though this game was kind of clunky, tests showed that casual
players at least could come to grips with it. He later revised the
model so the player was to click directly on a series of incoming
dancers who boogied in from the right side of the screen – removing an
unnecessary level of abstraction, to both make the rules more clear and
to make the player feel more connected to the underlying music. This
model also allowed for combos and special bonuses, for advanced
players. The result was a highly stylized yet also highly playable
rhythm game.
The
point of the whole exercise was to illustrate that, though casual games
are known as a no-man's land of clones and retreads, there is plenty of
experimental space available – and many of the obvious rules are plain
rubbish to anyone with a little ingenuity and persistence. What is in
fact most exciting about the casual game space is the completely blank
slate that developers need to shoot for, in terms of an audience –
which requires developers to constantly question what they know about
game design.
To Mosh and to Jam
The
next two segments covered a couple of recent high-profile independent
game development competitions: the Dallas Game Jam and the Mobile Game
Mosh, both of which were inspired by the Indie Game Jam.
The
majority of the demonstrations discussed the logistics and pitfalls of
structuring future competitions. Indeed, the first portion to the
Dallas Jam segment was labeled "Rapid Prototyping Landmines: Why Our
Approach Sucks". Compared to the Carnegie Melon and Indie Game Jam
structures, where each contestant (or occasional small team) was
assigned an individual project, the Dallas Jam attempted to get the
entire group to work together on a single project. People being as
people are, this approach resulted in chaos and failure more often than
not; as illustrated in a series of slides, when everyone has his or her
own project, chances are at the end of the show there will be several
finished games to show – regardless of how many projects fail partway
through. When you put all your eggs in one basket, though – especially
one destabilized by too many cooks in the kitchen – well, you get what
you get.
Following
these four presentations, the session dispersed for a break. In the
next segment, despite a thinning audience, the session really kicked
into overdrive with a series of intriguing new theories and approaches
to design. Read on for more on the second half of the Experimental
Gameplay session.
|