The Anatomy of a Bond Film
To illustrate the
value of a pacing structure lets look at a typical blockbuster example -- say,
any of the James Bond movies. A Bond movie starts off with a prologue at some
high intensity scene (usually 007 is tying up some major loose ends on some
previous mission).
Next, after the
resolution of that prologue scene, it transitions into the opening title
introduction, after which there are some peaceful exposition scenes with lots
of dialogue and limited action (James gets the new mission briefing). Then the
intensity increases to the next action scene (a new peak, but much lower in
intensity than the prologue), after which there is another lull occurring
around the start of Act II.
The intensity of
the scenes builds from the lull until another major action scene hits that is
more intense than the previous Act I peak and that signals the end of Act II (the
top henchmen often confronts Bond here). In some cases, there will be a series
of increasingly intense events during the third, confrontation act, or
perhaps just a series of obstacles to be overcome during one longer action
scene (the villain often gains the upper hand here).
Finally, the
climax occurs towards the end of Act III (Bond cunningly regains the upper
hand) with only the final resolution to finish off the movie in a riveting
action scene like only a Bond movie can deliver (the villain is killed in
some clever way, and in a final calming lull, Bond gets some quality alone time
with the girl).
Some critics say
Bond movies are formulaic, but that doesn't seem to have inhibited the growth
of the franchise any over the past 46 years, and most fans leave the theater
every two years giddy and satisfied.
I am far from an educated screenwriting
expert, but I do know there are more precise rules in film to deliver the most satisfying experience -- but
that level of movie detail is out of the scope of this article.
Suffice it to say
that Hollywood has the ability
to control the emotions of the audience and lead the viewer on a
rollercoaster ride of excitement. Sadly, they fall short on this level more
often than not. But when they get it right, the result is pure movie magic, and
the majority of the Bond films are a true testament to that magic.
TV Structure
Fig. 3: Intensity Graph for an episode of a TV drama (note
the increase in intensity peaks)
Similar
to their movie counterparts, the creative teams behind 24, Prison Break and
Lost plan multiple action events into each 42 minute episode. They also
sequence these events based on their own deliberate intensity ranking, in
order to control the order of events and therefore the pacing and intensity
of the episode.
They
control the intensity based on the magnitude of impact and the ranked order
of the action events. They control the pacing based on the duration between
action, creating a rhythm to the events.
For a typical episode, they place one
of the more exciting events at the front (often a resolution to the
cliff-hanger from the previous episode) and the most exciting event or plot
twist at the end to serve as a climactic cliff-hanger. So, an intensity graph
for a single episode may look something like a sine wave with an initial
spike and drop and then an ever-increasing amplitude (Figure 3).
Fig. 4: Increasing Episode Pacing
& Intensity
Since
television is advertising-driven, these dramas tend to utilize multiple
intensity spikes as mini cliff-hangers and insert a commercial point in order
to keep as many live viewers as possible riveted to their seats during the
break (allowing them to charge more for their commercials).
The creative team
may also sequence the events together in shorter and shorter duration within
an episode in order to increase the pace of excitement along with the
magnitude of the intensity (Fig. 4
-- with increasingly shorter/faster frequency and taller amplitude).
With or without duration changes, the result of their pacing and intensity
structure is an amazing roller-coaster ride of an episode that keeps viewers
riveted to their seats each week (and keeps the advertisers forking over
top dollars).
If
the magic behind the intensity and pacing for a single episode of 24, Lost, or
Prison Break is impressive, then the continual increase over the entire
season is sheer unadulterated genius, and the results are simply spectacular;
many would argue the first few seasons of these series demonstrate the best
in TV drama history.
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On another note, the notion that dramatic intensity is something that can be defined without story is wholly false. Sure with classic games like "Virtual Pinball" it might apply that a ‘game’ or 'level' designer would create a level for intense pinball, or FPS, action, but in today's development world it doesn't apply.
Modern interactive entertainment needs a synergistic approach whereby narrative is developed along side gameplay, so that play mechanics are deeply intertwined with story, and vica versa. While multiplayer modes might be a great place to emphasize pure play and system mechanics, singleplayer modes of play and co-op campaigns are what really drive most game sales. As such, narrative design is essential to creating the dramatic intensity you speak of, traditional gameplay unto itself is not the place to craft drama or the catharsis that experiences like "24" or "Prison Break" provide. We need Narrative Design from the get go so that any peak in dramatic intensity is a moment designed out of the tight integration of story and play elements; it is only in this way that we will be able to craft the kinds of interactive experiences that viewers/users/players are and will be looking for, in today and tomorrows market.
"A Canticle for Leibowitz" by Walter Miller
http://books.google.com/books?id=k53eZ2ARZPwC&dq=canticle+for+leibowitz&pg=PP1&o
ts=Enrfe0azOo&source=bn&sig=nmkkkfxGW1Tx3CyAnafTQrfTyUE&hl=en&sa=X&oi=book_resul
t&resnum=4&ct=result
In games if you have not hooked the player in the first 5 minutes you are not going to convert the renters and demo players into buyers. Perhaps this is a sad commentary on American attention spans, but it remains a crucial fact of the business of making games.
I agree completely that narrative needs to come early and be evolved with gameplay and hopefully that will be clarified in Part II. Too often the narrative is not evolved with the level design and comes either so late it has to be shoehorned into the gameplay or so early it does not leverage the level gameplay that emerges towards the end of the project.
Also this is a structured design process that I believe can be applied especially well to the single player modes of action and racing games with large level design content needs and so thus would not apply to other genres as you note (sports, classic arcade, puzzle, etc.).
Ironically I was a jr. designer building tables for Virtual Pinball. :)
Creating spikes in tension is possible using these "cheating" methods. Adding bigger bosses or more fireballs will create the illusion of mapping onto the ideal narrative arc you've mapped. At the end of the day, however, people aren't stupid, and they will recognize these as cheats unless these spikes in tension are grounded with REAL stakes tied to REAL story twists and turns. Thus, even if you carefully design the gameplay to amp up, people will continue to experience the disjointed structure of games you describe if the story isn't tied to the intensity arc. For example, playing Final Fantasy VII I've never heard anyone comment on their powers at higher level -- everyone remembers the moment where Aeris dies (I'm nice about no spoilers, aren't I?). The ideal situation would have been to make this an epic moment from both a gameplay standpoint and a story standpoint.
Anne's assertion that we can't just try to trick people using intensity is spot-on; while we are illusion weavers we need to make sure that our peaks in intensity are believable and payoff for the player, while I think using the term "cheating" might be strong, when intensity rises are purposeful and rewarding it causes the player to keep playing, and in some cases keep buying! :)
Good gamestories only live through play.
I hear where Anne is coming from. My belief is that there is far too much reuse of generic events in games these days and as a player I feel let down when I recognize the monotony of constantly repeated gameplay.
I think everything will be more clear in Part II next week, but the idea is to define and implement unique action events that stand on their own and that contrast with the intensity of the gameplay before and after. The intention is very much to prevent gameplay elements from feeling like cheap insertions and the way to do that is through action event diversity and pacing.
Just a thought, it also seems that one of the key aspects of this 'building intensity' idea (aside from narrative and plot progression - and in our case 'events') that often gets left behind is visual intensity - intensity that arises from the player's movement through a game's visual space itself. While narrative aspects are a huge part of what makes a film or a tv show a pleasurable and a well paced experience, without the appropriate aesthetic reinforcement, more often than not, the experience can turn into a bit of a dud.
Thanks again for your work on this piece.
To help make those intensity ramps work, Act 1, following the Prologue, should be the setup during which we find out who the Protagonist is, who the enemy are and what is the reality of the world we find ourselves in. By the end of Act 1, the Protagonist encounters a challenge which forces him/her to act in extraordinary ways, triggering a journey against insurmountable odds. Act 2 adheres to the ebb and flow outlined by Mr. Lopez with ever-increasing intensity. The end of Act 2 finds our character nearly beaten and so-near-yet-so-far from completing the mission as the confluence of seemingly unbeatable odds makes success seem impossible. A great Act 3 finds our character unlocking some hidden potential or discovering a tool or method for overcoming the adversities which allow him to rise above the challenges. Act 3, as Mr. Lopez so rightly noted, is all about the final confrontation and ultimate success of the mission. But Act 3 does not end with this ultimate success. Let’s not forget the dénouement, a critical element of a great screenplay. This gives the writers a chance to explain the remaining mysteries, resolve the conflicts and exact justice providing the player an emotional release. Are we done? Not quite yet. Let’s not forget the last moment’s cliffhanger – the eyelid opening on the dead or the return of the enemy’s vengeful tribe – to setup the sequel.
How do we achieve that emotional connection? Great dialog for sympathetic characters who respond in believable, admirable ways to the challenges they face. And, of course, great music, sufficiently interactive, which triggers the emotionally appropriate response in the player.
For those who did not attend Brian Upton's excellent GDC 2007 lecture on Narrative Landscapes, try to get a hold of the archive video (your company does buy those, right?). His exceptional lessons from theme park design and urban planning provide all the tools a team needs to manipulate this layer. While out of the scope of this article I do reference visual intensity control in Part II and provide a link to Brian's lecture summary.
This is not an irrelevant distinction. There is probably little value to be obtained from maximizing tension that would be created if the game's narrative was a movie if the actual playing of the game does not create a similar tension profile.
This article, in my opinion, seems to take that blurry indistiction and run with it. Games are not movies or novels - it is important to remember this. Movies and novels can be successful in controlling tension only to the extent that they control the degree of interaction between the observer and the observed. Taken to it's extreme, the point of view advocated here would endorse the practice of removing interactive control from the user so long as the illusion of interactive control could be maintained.
Another way to look at it. Consider the relative tension levels across time as a child plays in a sandpit. Of course they do not rise systematically through time. Now suppose we interupted play periodically to tell the child another chapter of the story... we might get some degree of effectively rising tension... now go further and imagine that we decide when to tell the next part of the narrative depending upon the actions of the child... maybe you can see that we have probably lost too much control over flow of the narrative for any explicit attempt to control the tension to be meaningful. This last situation is somewhat analogous to the obstacle confronting a game developer when attempting to control the flow of tension in a game.
Lest my criticism be construed as simply to apply to cutscene based games, i'll just make explicit the breadth of the point. The flow of the game is controlled by the player whereever the actions of the player can alter the rate of progress of the game. Tautilogical, but it is the point. If the player can fail to conquer a level - if that is possible in the game - then that player can alter the temporial structure of the game, which intrinsically influences the flow of tension for that player with that game. If the player can spend time exploring a portion of the world you have created, then that player has also altered the temporial structure of the game. Whenever a player has any degree of control over the flow of the game, precise control of tension (as is practiced in cinemagraphic production) becomes impossible. It becomes a self deception to imagine it is important and a waste of resources to attempt to control it. When this article discusses the flow and pace of a game, the role of the player in regulating that pace is completely overlooked, whilst in practice the ability of the player to regulate that pace which has the largest implications for the ability or lack thereof for the designer to control the pace of the game.
I'm not trying to say that all tension management in games is mistaken... On the contrary, where it can be done, it should. However, there are theoretical constraints upon the ability of the author to control the flow of any interactive medium - these constraints are at their highest in the most interactive mediums, like games. The point that I initially set out to write about is that this article seems to take the wisdom of narrative design and attempt to apply it to game design way past the point where it continues to make sense...
I am not suggesting one can control the pacing perfectly for every player and I am a firm proponent of letting players play the game however they like. Will every consumer play the same and get the same value out of a structured level or mission experience? Certainly not, but we have all experienced the alternative of ill planned pacing and level structure in games and often that is one of the major factors causing a player to become bored with a title as the rhythm of gameplay becomes predictable and unmotivating.
All scientific discussion of theoretical constraints aside the question developers should ask themselves is whether they will be better off trying to structure the pacing and level content in a way that works for the majority of user play habits in the places we know they will eventually pass (i.e. in the missions of an open-world game). All 17 years of my experience tell me that the product will be better off with structured pacing and level content and in fact I wish I could go back and time and apply that to every one of my earlier projects.
I leave it up to the reader to decide for themself after reading Part II next week.