Tension and release form a cornerstone in all branches of art. Whether we're making movies, buildings, stories, songs, or games, these concepts are two sides of the same important coin. Creators use them to engage us in both obvious and subliminal ways, absorbing us emotionally. Without tension and release, artists from Shakespeare to Hendrix would have been at a complete loss.
We've all been exposed to theories on tension and release. We learn about the use of conflict in dramatic structure at an early age. Musicians study tension and release in their first scales and chord progressions, although the theory is less observable than in storytelling. And even as children we appreciate tension and release in architecture before we can consciously describe them. Indeed, all great creative works depend on good use of tension and release, and video games are no exception.
While "tension and release" sounds like the subject of a Farrelly Brothers movie, these concepts are absolutely valuable to the design process. Unfortunately, I rarely hear developers talk about this aspect of their projects. It's unfortunate because tension manifests itself as a unique and powerful force in games.
Such a fundamental theory deserves more discussion in our industry, so I'd like to take a look at games from the perspective of tension and release. The concept unifies approaches to all art forms, so I'll try to distill this aspect of game development in particular.
As a disclaimer, let me say that the use of these tools in games and other media is not groundbreaking in any way -- on the contrary, conflict is always at the forefront of developers' minds. My goal is only to draw some lines between games and other art forms, citing some examples and ultimately showing that this young industry knows what it's doing.
Also, I want to focus on usage specific to games. While most titles include elements of storytelling, music, cinematics, and architecture, these subsets don't reflect the interactive aspect of games. Since this portion truly sets games apart from other media, I'll try to concentrate on the gameplay implications of tension and release. There are aspects of game design that don't rely entirely on tension (character creation and upgrades, for example), but I'll focus on the areas I think are relevant.
No matter what arena you choose, tension is the state of mental or emotional strain. Conflict, stress, pressure, and anxiety are all ways to describe this very animal emotion. It usually has a negative connotation -- people generally try to keep their tension at a minimum.
Paradoxically, tension is a must-have in any artistic experience. People absolutely need it in order to enjoy a movie, book, or game. We all know that icky feeling at the end of a movie's second act, when everything is going great but we know something bad has to happen. Deep down we need that horrible thing to happen; we need our character to overcome it. It's the same with the rest of art -- tension is crucial.
The need for narrative conflict is common to younger and older audiences, too. It doesn't matter what form these struggles take -- just look at the different tension in shows from Thomas the Tank Engine to Lost and even Murder, She Wrote. Granted, these are clichéd examples that don't fully represent their audiences, but I think they demonstrate three completely different ways for building and releasing tension.
Thomas and his friends deal with emotional conflicts; the characters of Lost fight against themselves and nature; Jessica Fletcher is constantly entangled in murder investigations. These series may have dissimilar premises, tones, and viewers, but each episode relies on masterful use of tension and release to build and overcome conflict.
Along the same lines, let's look at three different games. God of War III, Warcraft III, and Team Fortress 2 are each highly rated titles without too much in common. However, all three games masterfully build and release tension in distinct ways.
The God of War franchise is built on players defeating a series of enemy encounters, each delimited by a period of exploration. The result is a carefully planned roller coaster of tension and release -- players build tension through platforming and being attacked, finally releasing that tension by defeating a group of enemies.
Warcraft III builds tension slowly, with most matches culminating in a climactic struggle. As players create and upgrade more enemies, they raise the stakes toward this final battle of annihilation.

Team Fortress 2
Different still is Team Fortress 2, which maintains a continually high degree of tension throughout each match. As players kill or are killed in specific skirmishes, the downtime during respawn and resupply provide the release from this tension, resulting in a more flexible experience of tension.
Here we see the real blessing of tension and release in video games. Where the audience can only watch the conflict in other art forms, players have the chance to influence the game's tension and release it through its mechanics. Interactive media is more than just choices; obviously choices need to result in tangible consequences. Tension and its release are two of these consequences, and they triumph in games because people respond to them emotionally. A game's goals propel the player through tension; the game's mechanics are the source of its release.
| Tejas Oza |
30 Jul 2010 at 4:35 am PST
|
|
Thank you for the article. Using tension and release is the hallmark of any good story and experience. J.R.R. Tolkien does this brilliantly in the Lord of hte Rings with situations becoming ever more dire by the page until just when you think it can't get better, a 'u-catastrophe' (as he termed it) released that build of tension.
One can see it in personal experience as well where we tend to remember particularly harrowing times that we just barely got out of vividly; like having missed your bus when you were travelling and being in a place that was more or less alien to you. Tension builds up in the form of trying to figure out how you'd get yourself out of this situation and continues to do so until that much awaited sigh of relief when you finally get yourself onto a bus and are on your merry way home. So, as you've pointed out with your examples, its an integral part of game design that has to be given a certain amount of thought. |
|
|
| Vincent gault |
|
Excellent article thx !
|
|
|
| Joe Program |
|
This is generally true:
"After all, there's nothing fun about jumping over flat, non-threatening ground." except in Oblivion where players have incentives to constantly bounce around. Would you classify the time leading up to an Acrobatics level increase as tension? On one hand, players' expectations build as they jump, but on the other there really isn't a possibility of failure. Thanks! |
|
|
| Nathan Frost |
|
Good article; I think the industry needs more of this kind of discussion.
Two notes. I think you mean: * "the harsh sound of a *diminished* seventh chord in silent movies, typically used when villains appear." (It is generally agreed that the stacked minor thirds of a diminished seventh chord sound much tenser than a major triad with a flat seventh) * "discrete encounters" rather than "discreet" Again, thanks -- I wish all industry designers were as articulate about this fundamental design concept as you. |
|
|
| John Rose |
|
Thanks a lot for the feedback. A few typos did manage to sneak in, but I'm glad you guys found it somewhat interesting :) I do want to note that Nathan is correct: diminished (not dominant) seventh chords are the bringers of musical anxiety. And I meant to write that discrete (or separate) encounters form great cycles of tension and release.
|
|
|
| Chan Chun Phang |
|
@Joe Program
Bouncing around by itself has no tension. Having it increase acrobatics, may be an avenue of tension. Putting a gauge somewhere which one can determine their progress, provides a visible avenue of tension. As one approaches a level of acrobatics, or as one uses up more energy (or both) tension increases, until one of the other has their quota filled. The question then is this: if it is an in-game mechanic, how can you adjust it such that it goes from a plain ability, to one which can generate tension? |
|
|
| Bart Stewart |
|
|
The part of the discussion on tension in music (and analogizing from that to how dissonance can build tension in games) got me thinking.
The notion of "dissonance" creating tension that can be released by resolving the notes of a chord in a particular way is probably common across cultures. But the definition of what constitutes dissonance in a particular system of music varies. Just as something that sounds dissonant in the Western 12-tone chromatic scale might sound consonant to a non-Westerner, is the same true of game situations? Are there any examples of gameplay mechanics that would normally make a Westerner tense but that someone else might find comforting (i.e., not requiring resolution)? More broadly, are there some mechanics for creating tension that are culture-specific, and other gameplay mechanics capable of inducing tension in any human gamer? |
|
|