Rayman Origins: Pay the writer? Pay the Game Designer!

There is much debate on the Twitters amongst games journalists (although it is applicable to journalism of any sort) with regards writing for free to break into the industry. Most detractors of the “connections and experience” argument cite Harlan Ellison’s excellent “Pay the Writer” video which I suggest you watch if you are a) remotely interested in writing and b) remotely interested in seeing the kind of person you will turn into if you succeed at it.

However, I believe that the exact same argument can be applied to game design, and I shall use the release of the excellent 2D platformer Rayman Origins to back me up.

You see, Rayman Origins is proof that game design doesn’t sell. Despite its critical acclaim, most if not all reviewers commented that it would struggle to sell at a triple-A RRP and when it failed to chart in the top 40 in the UK it appeared that they were right. At the time most podcasts were alive with discussion on why exactly this was. Could it be that it was too colourful and childish in its style and therefore off-putting to the hardcore gamer? How about the fact that it’s not a brown FPS- that’s what all the kids are buying these days after all? Is the genre itself dead?

My response would be; because I can play as good if not better 2D platformers for free.

Ladies and gentlemen, let me present to you a little site called Kongregate, a place where you can play all manner of indie games for free. These “CV pieces” are wildly varied and can often be quite embarrassing, but unfortunately for the professional 2D platformer designer, they can also be exceptionally good.

Because anyone can make a 2D platformer. The tools to do so are widely available in various GameMaker style formats (or just a copy of LittleBigPlanet 2)- tweak the parameters for gravity and inertia and you’re good to go. The skill therefore is not in creating a 2D platformer, but in designing one, and it doesn’t matter how good or bad your graphics are, if the platforms and spiked pits aren’t put together well, it’s not going to be fun.

This need for fine-tuned perfection is not present amongst the traditional triple-A genres, no one slates you if the door positioning is a little out of place, and your game doesn’t flop if your gun’s rate of fire is slightly slow. Sure they detract from the experience, but there’s so much else there to pick up the slack- fancy 3D graphics, a sense of scale, the dozens of hours running time, hundreds of enemies, vehicles, explosions! These blockbuster trappings are what sell games and blockbuster trappings as we know from actual blockbusters take huge teams of people months if not years to produce. When customers slap £40 on the counter they’re paying for that scale, they’re happy to spend that money because it took hundreds of people a very long time to make that product, so of course its justified. It’s the classic example of quantity over quality, but not in the sense that the two are mutually exclusive, but in the sense that what customers pay for is quantity, quality is a lovely bonus.

Rayman Origins is just quality. Pure perfected gameplay crafted by designers at the top of their game with a subtly sohpisticated art style that is not only unintrusive, but also complementary to the gameplay.

Unfortunately, Braid has all that as well.

And Super Meatboy.

And if you strip away the premium animation and art, there are a lot of designers on Kongregate who can provide as high a quality of entertainment in a much smaller burst. But when it’s free you can just find another burst to make up the time.

Pure game design doesn’t cost time or resources (comparitively) it simply takes skill, and now the internet has made skill easy to discover and distribute, people become less willing to pay a premium for it. Indies are proving now more than ever that they have skill, what they don’t have is the budget or resources to make Gears of War, and it’s only by making an experience that cannot be easily replicated for much less cost, that the triple-A games remain at triple-A prices.

 

If Fandom is Global, Why Aren’t the Products?

As some of you may know, I love Doctor Who.

I also love video games.

Because of these two things I feel well positioned to comment on fan reaction when the release of something they love is staggered from country to country.

Now, I don’t know how many of you go on “teh forumz” to talk about your favourite show, but I’ve made a few exploratory passes through the worlds of Gallifrey Base and Doctor Who Online in my day and I think what strikes me the most about them is just how important these discussion boards are to people. People who are fans of Doctor Who can and will log on every day to talk/argue/go ballistic about the show they love. Not only that, but forums are where life-long friendships are formed, meet-ups founded or podcasts created. In short they are the ultimate form of “pub”; one where the punters are united by what they have in common as opposed to where they live.

So when the transmission of an episode of Doctor Who (or BSG or 30 Rock) in the States is at any time other than the exact same time as its transmission in the UK, then that show (or game or film or book) is actively forbidding friends from talking.

We’ve all seen it, the Twitterers who scream “No spoilers! I haven’t watched it yet!” five minutes after a mind-blowing twist has been revealed. And sure we all laugh and say “Silly you, a social network isn’t going to stop talking about event TV just for you!” but until that person has seen whatever it is they’re a fan of then no, they can’t go on any social network until they have. Or read the blogs they usually visit. Or listen to the podcasts they subscribe to.

And if you don’t make that product available to those people simultaneously, then they pirate it.

Because what else can they do? If you run a Torchwood podcast and half of your hosts are in America and half of the hosts are in the UK then should you simply NOT cover this week’s episode because the guys in the UK are a week behind for the entire series?

Of course not. And that’s why it used to be hugely difficult to gauge Doctor Who’s popularity in America, because the viewership for the American transmission of the show a week after the UK broadcast was likely to be made up either of non-fans who happen to find it, or fans who were dedicated enough to not only want to watch that episode again, but to also support the viewing figures for the show because they understand that that’s how its popularity is gauged. Simultaneous(-ish) transmission is an issue that Doctor Who’s most recent series has succeeded in rectifying admirably (along with the help of iTunes for an extra special sprinkling of convenience), and hopefully it will pay off not only for the show but also for the fans as their demand for merchandise, books or simply more Doctor Who is able to be more accurately measured.

And this is something a lot of games, movies or anything else that has a cult following could learn from. I mean, the new Muppets movie has just come out over here in the UK, but if I were a die-hard fan of the Muppets, why would I go and see it now when I’ve been able to watch it via a link on Youtube since *googles* the 2nd of November 2011. In HD.

Part of the joy of being a fan is being able to talk about what you love with people similarly impassioned, and it’s inevitable that the value of that ability is eventually going to outweigh the ‘duty’ of a fan to support their favourite product.

When that happens it’s the product’s responsibility to make being a fan as easy as possible, because piracy will always be there to fill in the gap.

 

Rory’s Story: a DWA comic.

A New Year’s treat for people who are into this kind of thing. I’ve very been kindly granted permission to post one of my favourite strips from my time on Doctor Who Adventures Magazine; Rory’s Story, written by myself and illustrated by John Ross.

I’m very proud of this one, and I hope you enjoy it!

All material is ©BBC and reprinted with permission.