You should be drawing

Why does that phrase hold so much power? Does it do more harm than good? What is so important about drawing anyway?

The best answer I’ve ever heard¹ in regards to that question is “Everyone draws when they are a kid, and then most people grow out of it. I just never grew out of it.” For me, that perfectly sums up why I should be drawing. It is creativity and fun in its purest form.

Drawing is a tool for play and communication. And an incredibly powerful tool at that. It can be academic or it can be entirely free form. It can be permanent or fleeting. It can be beautiful or it can be crass. It can be honest or it can be deceiving. And best of all, it can be done by anyone, at anytime, anywhere.

This is inevitably the part where someone says, “Sure, but all I can draw is stick figures.” So what, that hasn’t stopped others from being successful. Stick figures are action figures that can never break. Skill level isn’t important. Even your meeting doodles are incredibly valuable.

What is important is that drawing affords an outlet that requires only the most basic of tools and technology, which can then scale infinitely to the artist’s wishes. Drawing allows you to cut through any technology or large production constraints and get right to the heart of execution. All you need to do is approach art like you would game design.

You should be playing

Drawing, at its core, is play. You are given an open world with a set of tools and only one core objective. Make your mark. Which probably explains why kids love drawing and adults are terrified by it. The only structure that exists is what you bring to it, and adults bring so much ridiculous structure when they are given the chance to draw that they just freeze up. So, the first step towards enjoying drawing again is to let go of those preconceived notions of what is good and what is bad and just play.

So to let go, approach drawing like you would design a game, which are the tools at hand and any rules you want to add to them.

Start with some tools that encourage energetic mark making. Finger paints, vine charcoal, chalk. Tools that get you messy and have an inherent level of imprecision are the rocket launchers of art. They are inherently bright, loud and able to make anyone hit their target at least in a small way. Then, as your precision with the rocket launcher gets better, you can move towards a machine gun, like water colors. Pencils, Charcoal, Conte, etc are the sniper rifles of art. Starting with those can quickly lead to frustration as they inherently force a steady hand. It isn’t until you’ve used them a lot that you feel comfortable no-scoping them.

Oil paints are a genre able to be scaled amongst themselves based again on the tools. You have access to the entire dev panel with oil paints. Painting only with a palette knife vs a fine sable brush is like God mode with confetti headshots vs one hit kills.

This leads naturally into wanting to create some rules to play with. Draw some random shapes on a page, and then like staring a clouds, turn them into whatever you think they look like. Try drawing the image upside down. Or with your alternate hand. Or with your feet. Or with your eyes closed². Find rules that allow for you to stop thinking about the physical act of drawing and transport your mind into pure creation. You want rules that foster a sense of fun without the concern that you will be judged. Because once being judged is added into the equation, it requires dedication and becomes work.

You should be growing

Judgement is adding difficulty settings to your game of drawing. It is adding weight to the win/lose conditions of the rules decided upon when you begin to play. Inherently, judgement itself isn’t a bad thing, you just need to set it to a level where your work to success rate isn’t frustrating. Essentially, you need to balance your drawings.

Just like balancing your game, you need to be aware of the intended players and their skill level. If you set the difficulty too high, you are going to rage quit. If it is too low, you are going to get bored and lose focus. Just like with anything, honestly examine what you want out of the experience and then turn the dial up one more notch to push yourself without breaking yourself. Do you want to learn how to design more appealing characters? Do you want to learn color theory? Do you want to learn how to paint environments? Choose a specific goal or objective, like you would in a game, and work towards that. Simply saying, “I want to draw better” is the equivalent of starting a game with the only objective being “Save the world.” Without a specific task or direction, most people, like most players, are just going to wander around aimlessly. Unless you have your difficulty setting high, this probably isn’t an approach that will work well for you.

When you start to feel good about what you have, play test your work. There are countless online forums and communities that gladly give honest critiques and tips to aspiring artists of any skill level. Local colleges or schools often have life drawing classes available to those interested. The artists in your studio might even have draw nights at a local pub or coffee shop. These are your lifelines towards leveling up and having gone through the same process, will gladly lend their eye and focus to give you the honest feedback you need, appropriate to the difficulty level you have established for yourself. Find groups that approach their artistic community like a game of co-op, there to get everyone’s back. And then once you are ready, and are capable of the occasional rocket jump, search out a team deathmatch art group to really have your skills put to the test.

If your difficulty level is set appropriately, you are going to fail sometimes. But that is fine. You have endless continues. Just click restart by picking that pencil back up and making a note of what knocked you into that pit last time. So when you come up against it again, you can jump on its head and knock it out. Because as much fun as just playing a free form game with no difficulty can be, there is nothing quite as rewarding as overcoming that tricky obstacle that kept knocking you down.

You should be doing

This obviously doesn’t have to just be about drawing. It could be about weight lifting. It could be about cooking. It could be about gardening. Ultimately, what it comes down to is opening your eye towards observing the world around you and then honing those observations into something you can communicate successfully. It is about taking your ideas and crafting them as only you can. It is about play. Sometimes with a purpose.

So what are you waiting for?

You should be drawing

_________

¹ I believe that quote belongs to Joshua Middleton, but it was told to me second hand many years ago, so I could be wrong. But regardless of who said it, the answer is still brilliant.

² I came across the by limb experiment by way of Ty Dunitz. I love how energetic and loose the lines are as each step moves forward. Makes me realize how much I need to relax my main hand during the initial sketch. Fun fact, it seems our most capable drawing foot coincides with our most capable drawing hand. The more you know.

State Changes

A state change is when a character changes from one set of animations to another by some sort of trigger. These are most often used in combat to change from the standing idle and suite of animations to the combat idle and the attack suite of animations. In this case, the trigger is either a button press by the player or some form of combat engagement of the NPC. This then plays a transitional animation of the character drawing their weapon or putting up their dukes. Pretty standard fare that is built out of necessity and function more so than personality.  Certainly the personality of a character can be reflected in their combat state (proud, aggressive, timid, etc) but it is when state changes are applied to other triggers that a real life and awareness can be breathed into a character. State changes give characters a purpose and outline a goal or objective they intend to overcome and that is what drives the entirety of life.

Getting Past The Pretentious

“…a novelist should make his spade a spade before he makes it a symbol.” - Nigel Watts

Few ideas are so quickly labeled as pretentious art fluff like symbolism. In fact, when I first entered college, I was always first to roll my eyes when it entered into critiques. No matter how many portrait paintings we had to dissect in regards to the placement of objects or the environment, I refused to believe such things honestly held that much importance. In fact, it wasn’t the visual arts that swayed me towards believing in the power of symbolism. It was literature. Specifically, one piece.

The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Since you are already reading something, you should go ahead and read that too. If you want to deny yourself with the TL;DR version, here is the Wikipedia entry.

Beyond the fantastic and haunting imagery of the yellow wallpaper itself, what has always stuck with me was the fact that the woman is locked upstairs and the window is overlooking the garden. Think about what it means to be upstairs in your home. It is your most personal space, furthest away from the outside world. Now imagine being locked away in your most personal and secluded space. It really is the perfect setting for the story and truly adds to the narrative. The window and it’s garden view is as equally important. The garden illustrates the chance to flourish and grow outside of the room and the window represents the narrow and fragile view she is afforded towards that actual growth.

Those two elements are so fundamental to the theme of the story, and felt so deeply, I couldn’t help but be converted to the importance of symbolism.

Symbolism As Authorial Suggestion

“Write your story or novel the best that you can – write it truly and well, as Hemingway might have said – and don’t worry about what will be symbolic and what won’t be. Let things and characters that turn out to be symbolic simply materialize.” - Ron Rozelle

So how can we approach this in games? Suggesting goals is a good place to start, and as luck would have it, I just recently started Dark Souls, which has a great example. After you get through the tutorial section of sorts, you are dropped into the main world with the option to go either up or down, both presented as equally terrifying. I instinctively traveled up first. It wasn’t until I read Chris Dahlen’s article about this moment that I realized it was actually the easier path which should be tackled first. So I wonder, why did I inherently choose to go up, which was essentially the designer’s intended path? Maybe it is due to a little suggestive symbolism?

Going up, towards the light of the heavens is definitely a far more appealing option than heading down, closer to the home of demons. Traveling up embodies the idea of getting closer to our self, while traveling down is a journey into our worst fears. Certainly the visual framing of the cliff and the towers, with the bright sun reflecting down also directs our attention, but for a game so intent on occupying all the senses of the player, it is hard to not feel the symbolic ques upon further reflection. In both narrative and objective they strengthen the experience.

And that is when symbolism is most powerful. Not in the moment, but upon reflection. Not heavy handed, leading the player in a straight line by their nose, but as a faint whisper in the air. It is just another tool of the designer to suggest goals, direction, and emotions that the player can then weave into their own narrative tapestry. It becomes a tangible detail during moments of hyper awareness, recalled as players recount their experiences. But because of its subtlety it can be as easily ignored by those not wanting to hear or look for it.

When seeing a new area or creature for the first time, think about what it means to view it through a window or through a doorway. Is the window or door open, intact, broken or boarded? Are you entering the scene from above or below? Those are just a few of the spatial and architectural clues that can double as symbols. These can be great details that, if thought about before important moments or areas in your game, can become emotional highlights without much polish time or rework needed.

Symbolism In The Actions

“… keep any symbolism subtle – present but hidden, there but not there.” - Harvey Chapman

Beyond just the symbols of the world, how we move through them can mean just as much. Crawling, running or jumping each have their own meaning and emotional purpose beyond the action itself. Running down stairs has an entirely different feeling than crawling down them. While these are things animators often try to inject into their work, it is often these more banal movements that are tilted towards the generic in lieu of more exciting sequences. But what if going down ladders was signified in the design as a symbolic gesture of diving into a character’s fears? Then the enter, climb down loop, exit and even slide should reflect that in the posing and pace. Not so much as to drastically change the movement speed of the character, but just a slight hesitation in the speed to suggest what lies ahead. With animation layering, the possibilities of any number of symbolic actions can take place without drastically affecting the controls of the player.

How a character uses its weapons and items can be equally important. Is your character a cold and emotionally distant assassin or a rowdy and resourceful warrior? In the case of the assassin, they will always keep hold of their blade, using it to symbolically keep everyone at a distance from them and to never feel human contact. They would also never use a fallen enemies weapon, because that is too personal an object to them. Likewise, when knocked down, they will clutch tight to the blade because it is such an intrinsic part of them. As for the boisterous warrior, they ARE the weapon. They have no problem letting go of whatever they are using to get their hands dirty or using the weapon of an enemy against them. They relish the personal touch, and when knocked down don’t need to hold on to their weapon to get back up.

But beyond combat, this can be carried through in their general movements. With the assassin, their blade could be a spear that they actually use to navigate around the world, again keeping it as a buffer between themselves and the world. Contrast with the warrior that rolls around or puts their entire body into contact with the environment. Neither of these have to come as a hindrance to the gameplay that takes away from the player’s control or playstyle, only as slight personality cues that can further connect them to the world.

A Symbolic Gesture

“Symbolism exists to adorn and enrich, not to create an artificial sense of profundity.” – Stephen King

Symbolism can be used to subtly imply goals or suggest themes and emotions. They can also be overly blunt and rip the player out of the experience when they come on too strong. They are, after all, completely authored by the developer. But when built subtly and organically into the world, they can be a true moment of interactive reflection by the player, where the designers meaning is as much felt as it is seen.

“Is this how it’s always going to be?”

Just a day before, my studio, which I was about to give my two weeks notice to, had layoffs. It was a sobering reality that pretty much everyone in this industry has had some experience with. In fact, it is a top 7 reason NOT to work in games. And while I have been around layoffs before, to have it happen as I was preparing to move and establish a new homestead sent chills down even my relatively cool spine. So it wasn’t an entirely surprising question for my wife to ask.

“Is this how it’s always going to be? Is this just our reality, having to move every couple of years?”

In our specific case, these moves have all been of our own choice, though their need often came from trying to get ahead of impending layoffs. But it seems like it is something that happens to a lot of developers who have come in during this current console generation. It isn’t uncommon to meet and work with people that have played state bingo on more than one occasion. And while that can be fun at first, it can certainly grow old when you want to set up roots somewhere. In my years working I’ve met many developers who have a no house buying rule, having either been stuck with an out of state house themselves or seen it happen to too many friends. And while that certainly ties into a larger economic problem, to have people that are financially capable of buying a home, yet refuse to, equally feeds into the fear of layoffs.

“Is this how it’s always going to be? Is this just our reality, having to move every couple of years? We are finally moving back close to home and I don’t want to have to do this again.”

I don’t want to have to do this again either. I am done moving. I want to set up roots and buy a home. I want to stop living by my Layoff Handbook and not have to look over my shoulder all the time. I want to live in an area that I really want to call home, and not just a “safe zone” city filled with a lot of studios so that I can have options.  I just want to work really hard and will this all into reality. Honestly, that is all I CAN do. But that still only leads to reactionary solutions for the majority of game devs. And if that is all we have, then the answer I will have to give my wife is, “Yes, this IS how it is always going to be.” And that is an answer I don’t think anyone is looking forward to.

That means to give the answer we want, we need to put our faith with the management and business of the games industry. Scary, I know. These are areas that I don’t have much expertise in, or honestly even care to take part of on a grand scale. I hate the business side of game development. It is a reason I WANT to work for larger companies. I want to just create and let someone else handle the business side of things. I know that a basic understanding of the business model is necessary as it affects the design and scope of the game, but beyond that, I don’t want to have to worry about it. And I am guessing when I start spewing solutions to business problems it is as annoying to them as when they try to dictate creative solutions to us. So I am sure whatever ideas I have on creating a better game business are probably flawed or pedestrian.

But I do want to ask all the business and management types reading this the question my wife posed to me.

“Is this how it’s always going to be?”

Because if so, there are a lot of developers who don’t see this as a sustainable life. And bleeding the talent that is the most passionate because they are constantly having to justify the industry they love to the rest of the world can’t be a good business practice. We already have to justify so much of the content, which is something we actually CAN fix on our own. But to justify the business is the last straw for many. And that is where it becomes management’s problem. Because for the business it means the loss of potential profits. And to the team it means we lose another team member on a few different levels. Which then leads to even more lost profits. Rinse. Repeat.

The next time management wonders what can be done to help the team out, this, more than anything, is what is wanted. Start giving us all the faith to be able to say NO when asked if this is how it is always going to be.

Both my wife and I, as well as families across the industry, will be eternally thankful.

So I wondered, when do we hit the saturation point of creating more viable talent then needed?

I posed this question on the podcast I co-host with some fellow animators. The general consensus the four of us came to was that we had in fact hit our saturation point.

If this is the case, then what is our responsibility to do something about it?

Sure, the cream always rises to the top. And having too many awesome applicants isn’t often a problem many studios face. But I don’t see that percentage of top notch talent being affected much by more schools. What I see being produced is more average skilled applicants. And that is what worries me. These are the students who were diligent and passionate, just not as inherently gifted or able in their craft as the cream of the crop.

Students like me.

Students who believe that if they work hard enough they are going to make it. I’m not talking about edge cases like Rudy who are all heart with almost no ability. I’m talking about people with a high batting average, but not a lot of home runs. Not sure where these sports metaphors came from, but you get my drift.

See, there are A LOT of these type of graduates out there. And for the last few years, they have been able to find work if they put in enough effort. And the schools had the placement rates to prove it. But it doesn’t seem to be enough anymore. And when the diligent yet average can’t find work, I’m afraid that their most important trait might fade.

Passion.

That is what can set them apart. I’m not talking about the fanatic, all encompassing form of passion that can do more harm than good. I’m talking about the passion that can sustain through even the darkest times of development. The passion that makes them valuable when the superstars jump ship for something better or are too busy working on a tent pole moment to care about the more mundane. The passion that makes them a true diplomat in the industry for the next wave of creatives.

That is my biggest fear. A generation of disillusioned creatives that did everything right, to the best of their ability, and still couldn’t scale the wall. What happens when their kids then want to make their own run at it? Who in their right mind would encourage someone on what they already proved to be a fool’s errand?

I can feel some Fox News levels of hyperbole seeping out of that last paragraph, so I’m probably reaching the end of any rational conclusions. But I can’t help but think we have some responsibility to quell this tide. It is at a point where it feels like just trying to give access to anyone interested is turning into a business model. Something that is already being played out with the Art Institute. I don’t for a second believe Animation Mentor, iAnimate and Anim School are in the same league as Art Institute in trying to turn art students into widgets. But for a field where students are always looking for the magic key that can unlock their entry into the industry, those schools represent the closest thing to the public at large. And that perception, coupled with the professional perception that there is a saturation of these schools, is a dangerous combination.

So what can we do as professionals working in the field? I would say the first step is to not create another online animation school run by professionals. Not even a game animation focused one, though a course like that COULD be beneficial. No, in all honesty, the crap programs are going to fade due to low attendance numbers and struggling budgets as the years go by. But in the mean time, I do think it is our responsibility to be even more honest to those enrolled in all of these programs. In a time when American Idol proves season after season that this is certainly a generation plagued by disillusioned self empowerment, an extra dose of Simon might just be the answer. Sure, it might drive away some, but if some tough love was all it took to make them give up their dream, then they probably didn’t have the passion needed to set them apart anyway.

So the answer towards saving the average yet passionate talent is to be a wet blanket of truth? Instead of giving them MORE support, we should lob honesty bombs at them? Talk about some old testament solutions to current day problems…

But, it worked for me. That honesty helped to test and strengthen my passion and push my drive. Maybe that passion, drive, and average skill set can be enough to help this current generation poke their head up among the crowd long enough to be given a chance.

Collectibles as Rewards and Currency

This is the one players have most grown to expect when they see shiny things laying about. If they pick it up, they assume they will get something from it. Most often times that is some in game reward, be it a power-up they can use instantly or some form of currency they can amass towards some fantastic purchase. If the collectible has no statistical worth, then players hope to feel some sense of achievement for collecting them. It could be a keepsake to prove they made it to the end of some hard to reach navigation puzzle, or as a gag for finding some hidden room. If a collectible doesn’t deliver on one these points, they player is going to lose interest in not just the collectibles but possibly the game, for not having a meaningful in game purpose.

The flags in the first Assassin’s Creed, the thermoses in Alan Wake, or the gold movie reels in L.A.Noire are perfect examples of collectibles that are lacking in meaningful rewards.  Meaningful is of course the key word, because simply attaching achievement points only shines a light on how frustrating and meaningless they are to the core experience of the game.

You can’t establish an honest value to a collectible of course until you dictate the quantity of the collectibles. This definitely falls into the discussion and study of balancing a game’s economy, player progression, and an item’s abilities, which is a topic best explained by those more experienced than I. Something worth mentioning however is that the quantity of collectibles and how they are visually categorized can affect the feel or mood of the player in a big way. Let’s look at Zelda, Ratchet & Clank, and Lego Harry Potter, using my wife as the case subject.

In Zelda, she doesn’t mind smashing every pot, cutting every piece of grass and lifting every rock in search of random rupees. Yet, when playing Ratchet & Clank, she is put off by having a million bolts fly about every time she smashes anything. With Zelda, the rupees aren’t a guarantee from every object you hit with your sword, and when they do, they are color coded to show how much value they have. The random nature of both make even searching for money a game. It also makes each rupee found special. Contrast that with the countless number of bolts Ratchet & Clank gives out for every swing of your wrench, and suddenly each bolt feels less special. But since they are needed to purchase better guns, armor and ammo, it feels like a requirement to smash and run to every bolt, even when the value of each turns it into a grind.

Lego Harry Potter has the explosion of collectibles like Ratchet & Clank but adds the color coded pieces to show which are worth more than others. This adds in a sense of urgency to collect some, but makes others feel even less valuable. So as they spewed forth, my wife would run after the high value ones first, but still felt compelled to pick up even the less important ones. Again, it resulted in her being turned off by the whole experience. In my wife’s case, less is more when it comes to using collectibles as currency.

If I had to guess, I would say certain demographics, such as age, probably have different appreciations for the quantity of collectibles in their games. Being skewed towards younger audiences, Ratchet & Clank as well as Lego’s explosion of goodies is probably a part of the experience that they love. Heck, the first few times I break open a crate bursting at the seam with bolts I get a little giddy. But like too much candy on Halloween, if left unchecked, it can cause some upset stomachs.

Collectibles as Compass and Clock

Using collectibles as bread crumbs, to entice the player to new areas is an age old trick. Like wise, many games have trained players to know that going towards the collectibles isn’t the main path, but a side room with a stash of goodies. How you use this directly ties into the worth of the collectibles. If they are valuable and rare, then going after one often means it is a side path meant only to lead to goodies, not the main objective. But when they are less valuable and more common, using them as markers to lead the way makes sense.

One of my favorite use of collectibles as a compass is in Tony Hawk games. The Hidden Tapes and S-K-A-T-E collectibles point out areas and runs that can lead to big points as the player tries to grab each item. Their placement highlights the internal reward of completing the objective and the extrinsic reward of personal achievement for feeling like a master skater.

Collectibles can also add to or detract from the urgency of the game, and slow down the internal play style clock. If the player is being told through the narrative that there is a dire need to move quickly, but there are collectibles littered about, with nothing to keep us from collecting them all, you have a problem. The gameplay is at complete odds with the narrative. Enslaved is a perfect example of this. Often times the story and characters projected a real sense of urgency in needing to move forward and continue onwards, but there would be red orbs lying all about, which are needed to upgrade your abilities. So instead of continuing on my important quest, I ran into every corner of the area collecting little orbs. As soon as I saw orbs, I lost all sense of the urgency the characters projected. Especially if it required me to run back an alternate/branched path my AI had been started on.

Collectibles as Characters

You have established what your collectibles will do and where they will live throughout your game. But why stop there? Add a bit of contextual meaning to them, to make them feel like an honest part of the world. It is that final step towards making them a strong part of the experience. Many games get this right, but to varying degrees.

Let’s look at Enslaved again. The red orbs say nothing to how or why they would allow the player, Monkey, to suddenly unlock new abilities when enough are collected. Furthermore, in order to upgrade Monkey’s abilities, the player must interact with the companion AI, Trip, who then uses the orbs to unlock the upgrades. Interestingly enough, Trip is unable to collect the orbs however, even if she runs through them. So narrative wise, this is all rather dissonant. It all works mechanically, collect the orbs as the player to purchase upgrades through a menu when enough are amassed, but for a game that tries so hard to push character and narrative, it falters in this regard. So, how could we fix it?

Have Trip explicitly mention that if the red orbs, a latent energy used to power their technology, are picked up, she can upgrade Monkey to help on their adventure. Then, let her also absorb orbs she is near, especially on branching paths where it feels odd that the player would run all the way back to where she was just to get orbs she initially deemed necessary. This will add a further connection between the characters, as it appears she is as much looking out for Monkey’s well being as he is hers. If for some reason there is a tech problem that keeps the AI from collecting the orbs, add into her explanation at the beginning that only the technology that absorbs the orbs can be upgraded, so she can’t pick them up for Monkey. But if she is near them, she will call out “Orbs here!”

Alan Wake’s thermoses, called out at the beginning of this article as having no real value, do have character and fit with the narrative of the game. Thermoses are a nod to Twin Peaks, an inspiration to the atmosphere of the game, as well as fitting with the idea of a person chugging coffee in hopes of staying awake. This is a perfect example however of the narrative of a collectible not being enough to make up for its lack of value. While not pulling me out of the tapestry of the narrative, I quickly lost interest in searching them out when the only value they served were achievement points.

When looking for a game that gets the narrative and game mechanic just right, let’s look at Infamous. The player collects blue glowing shards, which were scattered all over the city after the explosion caused by the player at the beginning of the game. When enough shards are collected, they give the player more energy. It all ties together so perfectly. Their power source is tied to the players from the outset and their reason for being littered all over the city makes sense. The shards serve the gameplay and narrative perfectly.

Intent Collected

Collectibles are a video game institution and much of how they are used is almost second nature to both players and designers. But that can often lead to them not getting the proper attention they deserve. Next time a collectible shows up in the game you are working on, look at it and decide on its value, what it is subconsciously telling the player, and how it fits into the world you are creating.

One thing that jumps out almost instantly was what it meant about a person when they use either “I”, “you” or “we” frequently. Just how much a person uses “I” can give insight about their social standing, if they are depressed, how educated they are or even if they are telling the truth. Take this test to see who you think uses “I” the most.

Did you do it?

How did you do?

Out of the 10 questions, the average person only correctly identifies about 5. How insane is that? We hear the word “I” everyday, more than any other, yet we have a hard time recognizing when it is used and by who. Even more than that, we are flat wrong on some of our assumptions on who uses “I” the most, such as with the notion that high status people use it more often.

So I began to wonder if this is something our brains pick up on subconsciously in language, does the perspective of the player’s camera in game also match to these findings?

Now, while the book is filled with all sorts of studies and software that is dedicated to proving out what is stated in the book, what I’m getting at is complete conjecture. But knowing that what the author says is proven, it at least gives us some insights we can use to build towards some fun discussions.

Using the points made at the end of the test, let’s see how they translate to a player’s camera perspective.

Focus of Attention

“People’s use of pronouns tells us where they are paying attention. If they are thinking and talking about friends, they will use words like he, she, and they. If they are thinking and talking about the group or relationship they are in, they might use words like we and us. And if their attention is drawn to themselves, they use I, me, and my.

People pay attention to themselves if they are in pain, self-conscious, or self-aware. However, if they are completely immersed in what they are doing or are psychologically distancing themselves from the topic of discussion, they are not paying attention to themselves and will not use 1st person singular.”

Could the fact that 1st person pronouns are so psychologically linked to pain and fear explain why the vast majority of 1st person games are linked to intense first person shooters? Or could it be that the reason they are such a dominant genre, in an industry that is built around intense action, be due in large part because it connects to the deepest part of those feelings? Does that also explain why teamwork isn’t something inherently built into the play styles of many FPS players? If the 1st person camera is essentially putting the player into the constant self-aware “I” state, is it any wonder that any sense of “we” can be hard to find or even opposed to what the player wants to be doing?

In turn, do 3rd person pronouns explain why we connect with or allow stylized art styles in a 3rd person camera more often than 1st? Is it also a reason as to why we expect or appreciate more of an authorial narrative dictated by the developer, since using he or she is always associated with storytelling?

Obviously, players are able to switch in and out of 1st and 3rd person depending on the situation. One minute they can be identifying themselves directly as the player character being attacked and the next shift outside of the character when it doesn’t do something they wanted. This is especially true in 3rd person camera games when you have a character that you can assign blame to. “Dammit Mario, I told you to jump!” But in the case of 1st person games, when I stop extending my identity to the character, I often blame the game or developer, not the character whose arms are holding the weapon. That certainly leads me to believe the camera’s perspective is causing me to fall in line with the same mental associations of pronoun usage on some level.

Ownership of the Topic

“If individuals feel extremely close to an object, event, or other person, they tend to link their sense of self to it. “Did I tell you about my trip to the beach?” has a very different feel from the more distant”You heard about that trip to the beach?” When people tell the truth, for example, they use much higher rates of “I” than when people lie. Immediately after witnessing a distressing event, people psychologically distance themselves and drop in their use of “I” words. However, people who are clinically depressed or suicidal tend to use “I” words at very high rates — almost as though they are embracing their unhappiness.”

I love that 1st person pronoun use can identify truth from fiction. Could it be that a reason “Would you kindly?” was such a powerful moment in Bioshock is because it plays into this so well? As a 1st person game, the player is in an emotional mindset of truth, even though we have had a lie subtly fed into our ear, using a phrase that is devoid of 1st person pronouns. Using a phrase that adheres to the way liars use pronouns, compounded with a camera perspective that implies truth certainly seems to have been a winning combination in this case.

Social Hierarchy

“A common mistake is that people think that high status people use 1st person singular more than low status people. In fact, the high status people tend to be more comfortable with themselves and are less self-conscious than the more insecure low status people.”

If camera perspective does affect mood to replicate the thought processes that lead to specific pronoun usage, I can’t help but imagine putting players into a constantly insecure, self-conscious state feeds into all number of griefing issues. Competitive games inherently build a hierarchy into the experience, with leaderboards, loadouts and perks. Having a 1st person perspective which psychologically intertwines self-worth more so than a 3rd person camera could possibly tie into some of the terrible online social practices of many players.

This could also explain why rts games feel so much better when seen from a far 3rd person perspective, because they are the definition of “we” experiences. Beyond just being able to see the entire layout of troops and resources better than a closer, 3rd person camera, psychologically it matches how we associate the pronouns that identify the experience.

It is also interesting to think about “you” as a 2nd person perspective. Could this be a reason some games are more fun to watch than others? You is more of a commanding word, often associated with anger, and very much concerned with the present, so it is definitely limited in emotion as much as function. It could certainly explain why it isn’t as commonly used as 3rd or 1st person even in narratives, but it definitely has strong connotations that could be tapped into for certain social experiences.

The Power of Pronouns

“Does changing your I-word use make you more dominant, less depressed, or richer? Sadly, no. The ways people use pronouns reflects their psychological state more than changing it. Once you snap out of your depression, your I-word use will drop. But changing your I-words probably won’t affect your depression.”

So let’s talk about why I might be full of crap. As the quote above states, pronouns don’t affect emotions. Emotions affect pronoun usage. That also fits into the Ed Hooks tip “Acting isn’t words, acting is doing.” It is also stated many times in the book that humans are terrible at identifying how we use function words, and only with the use of computer software with a large number of samples do these trends appear. So there is definitely some points to be made that simply dictating camera perspective isn’t enough directly affect emotion or for either developers or players to inherently know how to use it. BUT, camera as a psychological component of mood that matches the gameplay and narrative is certainly something we all use, and this could be another method towards refining how and why we use it.

I can’t begin to described how geeked out I have been about this book, as I begin my second read through. Beyond its applications when writing or creating characters with more honest voices, its findings of function word use in shared traumas, mirror neurons, and casual vs non-casual thinking got my game dev brain all fired up. A lot of what it covers, especially in the case of 1st and 3rd person, intersect with many of the ideas we use of player identification of their avatar. Take Scott McCloud‘s Understanding Comics, in which he states the less detail used on a character, the more opportunity we have to project ourselves onto that character. Likewise, the more detail a character or world has, the more foreign they are. This can certainly match with the psychology of “I” being more simple, honest and personal, while “he/she” is more specific and distant.

Statistical use of pronouns to match an artistic theory. How cool is that?!

Let’s talk one privileged white male to another.

I know what you are thinking. Here comes another rant about the need for gender and cultural equality in the work place. I can already hear your heels digging into the ground, ready to make any number of ideological stands against what I am about to say. But I’m not really here to talk about the altruistic reasons for adopting a more respectful and inviting game dev culture. In a perfect world, those would be enough. No, I want to talk about the purely selfish reasons we, as white males, playing into even the most entitled versions of ourselves, should want more diversity in games.

Something New To Create

First hit on Google image search for stereotypical white guy.

I don’t know about you, but I’m not just tired of playing as prototypical white men, I’m tired of animating them. Well, specifically I am tired of animating the stereotypical version of them that permeate almost every game. Like most animators, I love getting into the mindset of a character I have never worked on before, and defining how they think and move, and how that relates to their design. Sure, monsters, robots, zombies and all sorts of alien creatures allow for this to happen in rather broad strokes, but not every game can or should have those to fall back on, especially if it is the subtlety of human nature that you want to get into.  I don’t profess to know how women or someone from another culture thinks or acts, as I’m sure this post will continue to highlight. But from a purely creative side, I love working on characters that challenge me to learn more than just fight styles or what animal they might move like, as a chance for the character, player and myself to learn something new about the world we live in. So if only for the chance to break me out of my creative comfort zone, I love the idea of having more women and ethnicities in the games I am creating. There is a canyon of fantastic personalities, thinking processes and character traits that we are missing out on honestly exploring by making the token white guy our entry into the game.

Digging Deeper Into True Diversity

Maybe the game honestly calls for a white space marine but the hook for his diversity is that he is Muslim. Sure, that’s adding some cultural diversity, but until I have created or understood what the most generally true and common version of a Muslim character would be, how can I honestly convey the deeper complexities that this white space marine is going to be feeling? Sure, I can read some books, listen to some podcasts, visit a Mosque and talk to someone who practices the faith in the traditional, anthropological sort of way. But wouldn’t it just be easier and more honest if my everyday life included a large swath of culturally diverse people who have grown my understanding of these beliefs and experiences organically, instead of in an impromptu cram session? Furthermore, how many missed opportunities have there been to add in an interesting character trait because no one was familiar enough with the topic to even suggest it and talk to someone openly about it up front in a comfortable atmosphere? I’m not saying there should be a moratorium on hiring white males, but wouldn’t it be great if I only had to ask the woman sitting next to me what her perspective would be when placed in the scenario I am working on, as opposed to having to go on an expedition to get the same knowledge?

Equal Recognition Based On Merit

I play a little game at work, when we have a guest speaker give a seminar to the animation team. See, we have three female animators at the studio and I try to guess how long it will be before the speaker feels the need to specifically point that fact out, completely out of context of the conversation. Most recently, it was the first sentence uttered. And it sort of drives me nuts. I know WHY it is being pointed out, but in that setting, when the idea is to foster focused conversation on the topic at hand, I would hope the people taking part in the discussion or being singled out are those with the most interesting contributions, not just those that happened to visually stand out the most.

Of those three female animators, one I consider to be the most talented animator I’ve worked with at the studio. Another I was involved with the interview process on and gave her overwhelmingly positive feedback. So of those two, I certainly believe them to be animators worthy of recognition, but for far more honest reasons than their gender. I am sure the other animator with the high number of x-chromosomes is a fine animator as well since she is doing it professionally, but having never worked with her, would it be fair for me to assume she is any better than any of the other animators I’ve yet to work with?

I understand the irony of a white guy decrying inequality in the workplace online is like holding a metal umbrella in a thunderstorm, but it is something that gets to me. I know the studies about pay inequality across genders, and just a quick glance around the office proves there are an awful lot of honkies in here, but arbitrarily giving opportunities to someone based on genes can’t be the best answer. I know that is the easiest way to assume someone will have something unique to contribute or that it will right the injustices of corporate cultures, and I’m sure being female plays into the specific personalities of the animators I mentioned, but in this field, at this time, it seems like an oversimplified way to combat the problem that doesn’t do anyone any good. You have to be a rather intelligent and driven person to become a professional game dev which SHOULD make for a workplace that follows suit. Sure, there are still some terribly close minded people who make it in, but on the whole, the amount of education, socio-economic hurdles that need to be jumped and dedication it takes to makes games inherently breeds people who value worth in a person’s abilities, not their appearance or traits.

As creators and artists, empathizing and understanding others should be inherent in all of us, especially when we have all felt like outcasts at some point in our life. In fact, I would think that is where the most detailed and human diversity comes from. I obviously can’t say I truly know what it is like to be a woman, but having been raised by a single mother, I can certainly empathize. I certainly don’t have the experience of being judged by my skin color on a regular basis, but with a Peruvian father and adopted African American brothers, I can certainly relate. Yes, I am a typical white male by outward appearance and general perceived experience, but to say that is all I am is denying the reality of the details. Details, which define the core of my personality, creative process and decision-making skills.  Isn’t that what this is all about, getting away from singling someone out based solely on appearance and not what actual experiences they can contribute? Physical makeup is only a perceived shorthand, and we should strive to use the entire written word. But we can’t honestly evaluate on pure merit until we equally recognize the need for complete cultural equality.

We Could Stop Discussing The Why

Ultimately, the most selfish reason I can think of for fostering equal and constant respect for everyone is that it means we can stop discussing WHY we need equality and start creating games that show HOW it is important. It means we can have the best people possible making the best games possible, knowing that the worlds and characters we are creating are what are truly best suited to the game and not just a marketing spreadsheet or politically correct version of a new status quo. I believe some truly great games can and should be made that can get us towards a reality where this doesn’t need to be a discussion we have anymore, and I hope I get to be a part of them. If only so that I can animate some honestly diverse characters and work with a large group of people that have completely unique views and experiences from me, so that I can learn something different about the world and translate that into what I create. Sure, I’ve got my altruistic reasons for wanting that, but I would be lying if I didn’t say my selfish reasons aren’t also a driving factor.

I Want To Live In This Selfish World!

So how do I plan to push forward my selfish goals? By honestly respecting the need and value of diversity and equality in games, helping to push it forward where it honestly fits. When I hear of someone using ugly terminology, that if used towards my wife would cause me to turn a blind eye as she skinned them alive, I won’t honor them with my respect or my business. I will also continue to push and debate the inclusion of characters that don’t look like me into the games I make. While I may believe a few points made in papers about gender inequality in games are reaching a bit, I am still going to take them to heart and converse for and about them every time the subject arises. The best conversation I had during and after SIGGRAPH this year came about from that paper, between myself and another white male. Yes, you heard that right. A conversation about gender equality that I enjoyed having!

Well, of course, besides the ones I look forward to having in the comments.

This is my second time submitting to GDC, tho the first time I’ve done it proper. Last year I quickly tossed together a submission titled “Applying the Principles of Animation to Game Design” while preparing for and moving across country. Needless to say, I wrote it in a vacuum which is about the biggest mistake you can make, while my mind was being pulled in a million different directions. When it wasn’t accepted, I was of course disappointed, but I can understand why it didn’t make the cut. The good news is that I was able to turn that topic into a series of featured Gamasutra blog posts, which then led to me having the motivation to join up #AltDev when the call went out. So I would say it all worked out fine.

But this year I was determined to do it right when it came time to submit. And this is what I learned.

Work up a solid draft and send it out for critiques to everyone you know that has gone through the process. If you are lucky, you will have some good friends that will rip it apart. That is the greatest gift you can ever receive. The best quotes I got that really stuck with me during this step were:

“Spend more time talking about specifics on this and less time with your eloquent introduction that takes words away from facts. This is not an English paper.”
“Give me an example of something you will say. Sell me the fact that you aren’t an idiot blowing smoke up my ass.”
“Give away the key spoilers to the talk”
“Honestly, this submission is probably too weak right now to get accepted.”

I love how honest that last quote is! One re-write later, removing all the flowery language and working in more specifics, I emailed out a new draft, first and foremost sending it to the people that gave me those fantastic quotes. This time, a hard hat wasn’t necessary when checking my email:

“Just make it flow sort of like a narrative and I think you’ll be good. The first paragraph was a turn off. Everything else made me interested. “
“Yeah! That pitch is very specific and gives great examples of what you want to talk about! I think that one is much stronger. If you can, maybe get more specific about how you’re going to prove your conclusion. Otherwise, it’s great!”

3rd time really is a charm. With my personal proposal on solid ground, it was time to turn my attention to the panel I’d been planning together with a couple of other animators. At this point, having just gone through the trial by fire on my personal talk, I was able to work up a stronger first draft. The benefit of a panel was that there were already two other experienced people involved which makes for an instant feedback loop, meaning that I didn’t have to bother all those helpful friends again when looking for critiques. Needless to say, this talk also took 3 revisions, much for the same reasons as before. Got the core idea plotted out on the first draft, went back to add in more specifics on the second pass, then finally went through and tied it all together into something that flowed well.

It was between the 2nd and 3rd draft of that panel that I had the opportunity to get involved on another, and this is where working up the two other submissions really paid off. The idea for this panel came about just a few days before the deadline and had a lot more cooks in the kitchen. Having written up the other panel’s proposal, and already in that mindset, I decided to just go for it and write up a rough submission proposal for the talk, even before being on it. One of the best lessons I’ve learned in life is that if you see something that needs done and you have the ability and passion to make it happen, just do it. Even if I wasn’t on the panel, it was one I wanted to see happen, so I figured it would get the ball rolling. Another two drafts later (lucky number 3!), I was fortunate enough to be on the panel which came together well in time of the deadline.

So I guess if had to answer Flarkminator’s call to write a post about how to submit a proper talk, I would say it requires the hutzpah to just go for it followed up by lots of brutal honesty from everyone you can get to read it. So in essence, it follows along the exact same lines of how to be successful in any facet of game development.

I didn’t touch on the fact that having previous speaking experience, some big name or critical success titles to your resume, or knowing the right people can also make all the difference towards getting your talk accepted or not. But that should go without saying, and I know that, especially with my personal talk, it is long shot that it will get accepted. I’m but a random animator with only a few speaking experiences under my belt stepping up to take a shot at the big leagues. But whenever these points came up, I thought back to something Jay Mohr said on his podcast as paraphrased from David Mamet’s True and False.

“You need to be an impediment. You have to know when you walk into a room for an audition that they don’t want you. They already know who they want, and it isn’t you. So you have to do such a good job that you’ve given them a problem in which they HAVE to take you over the person they want.”

I want to give a big thanks to everyone that gave me a critique and any insight into the submission process. I’d list you all here but I don’t want to have any of you held publicly accountable for empowering me :)

Why?

It is a pretty important question to not only ask, but to have answered. Because pitching an idea means you are investing a lot of yourself into the game. You are emotionally attaching yourself to a portion of its success and that is a sacred trust you are bestowing upon its development. To have that ignored crushes your enthusiasm and leaves you apathetic, bitter and jadded about the process. And that is about the worst thing that can happen to both you and the team.

Figuring out the “why” going forward is the first thing you should do the next time you have that killer idea that doesn’t seem to get any traction. But what about those ideas of yore for which you can’t track down the specific “why”? Well, I’ve got a few ideas:

You Pitched It To The Wrong Person

There are three avenues most people go down when pitching an idea for the game. First step is usually saying something to the person sitting next to you. If you went no further than this, and you aren’t sitting next to the Creative Director or Design Lead, then look no further as to the “why”. This is NEVER enough, though it can be a good first step. If you see the eyes of the person with whom you work most closely gloss over, then you know your idea has some holes. But if they agree it sounds great, or even added something valuable to the mix, you might have something.

Next step most people take is sending out an email to the team with their idea. This gets a lot of eyes on it, and can get a lot of enthusiasm from different people, but for anyone that can actually approve your idea, your email is like spitting into an ocean. The leads and directors of games get HUNDREDS of emails a day. They will glance at your email, and most likely forget about it as they rush to another meeting. And while you can get a wave of people behind your idea, if there is something wrong with the idea, you will also get a wave of apathy or anger about clogging up the email stream for the entire team. BUT, if the team is behind your email and a Lead or Director chimed in that it seemed cool, you’ve got to advance to level 1-3.

Be mindful of warp pipes that can fast track your pitch. You can't cheat a good idea.

Knock on the door of a person that can actually make the decision to implement your idea. Pitching it in person shows how invested you are and gives them an honest chance to react to your idea. Very rarely have I taken an idea to this stage and not been given the “why” as to whether it would be doable or not. Just make sure before you go in you’ve thought through the idea, because if every time you get a random thought you feel the need to bend the ear of the director, very quickly they won’t take your ideas as seriously.

Your Idea Didn’t Match The Design

If you are going to pitch an idea that affects the game, you should probably take the time to really think about how your idea impacts the gameplay. That means know which of the core pillars of the design your idea falls under and what takes place in the game before, after and around your idea, so that you can speak how it fits in overall.

An idea is something anyone can have, so inherently they are rather cheap. Taking the time to flesh that idea out and how to implement it is where you will find their real worth. It forces you to think it out as a whole, and gives you answers to many of the questions you will be asked. Just being able to answer a designer when they start trying to find the holes in your idea is going to give it a lot more weight than 95% of what gets tossed around from the rest of the team.

Can your idea be exploited by the player? Does it clash with another feature or goal in the game? Is it too complicated? Is it too simple? Is it too ambiguous? What happens if the player fails? Is it something the engine supports already or does it need significant engineering? Does it need a tutorial? Is the action out of character or out-of-place with the narrative? You should be able to answer all these questions and more if you are serious about getting your idea into the game.

You Pitched It At The Wrong Time

So your idea was actually a good one and everyone you talked to thought it would be awesome, but it didn’t happen. Chances are you pitched it too late or too early in the development process.

A game’s R&D phase is when the most ideas are being tossed about and when leads and directors actively ask the team for ideas on what should be in the game. This essentially turns into email threads and wiki’s full of ideas popping up, which means your idea can quickly be lost. Especially if the idea you had was for a small detail or moment in the game when the broad strokes are stilling being figured out. It’s a good idea to throw it out there, so it gets logged in an email or wiki for future reference, but its up to you to hold onto that idea and pitch again when the core features of the game needed to make it work are functioning.

The other common problem is after a game starts full production, and you get an idea that would be a fundamental change to something that is already implemented. These are often the “not better, but different” types of ideas. Or they can be a better idea than what is being executed in game, but to really move forward on your idea would be like pulling a thread on a sweater because they define so many other parts of the game. Big ones are changes in player movement, combat design, or adding a new feature for a level that doesn’t exist anywhere else, ie stealth. Making games is a learning process, and better ways to do something always present themselves throughout production. You shouldn’t turn off the part of your brain that has ideas once full production starts, but before you get into a passionate discussion about your latest brainchild, think about where the development cycle is at. Not many studios have the luxury of scrapping something and pushing back a deadline just to try out a new or different idea. You can always save it for your next game.

Your Aren’t The Problem 

Your idea was embraced by everyone around you. You thought through the design ramifications and it all made sense. It was during that sweet spot in production when it could have been added to the game as part of the normal workflow. But it still got tossed aside. Why?

Well, since you went through most of the steps proving out your idea wasn’t just a good one, but a correct one, that doesn’t leave many options. At best, there was a serious lack of honest communication between the decision makers and the rest of the team. Or at worst, the decision makers aren’t really interested in what the team has to offer. In either case, you are being severely hamstringed in the creative process and there is something toxic in your work environment.

Another sign that this could be the case is if a lot of senior people on the team are withdrawn or scoff at the idea of pitching an idea. If it is just one person, it means that they probably didn’t follow through with their idea in the proper manner. But if it is an entire team, there is a good chance that investing your soul in the game is about as smart as handing over a newborn to a pack of wolves.

I’m not naïve enough to think that if you follow everything laid out that your idea will make it into the game. But they should give you the answer as to why it didn’t make it into the game. Some ideas will naturally fall through the cracks, no matter how perfect they were, but if the common theme is that they are rejected with no answers to your why, other than the need of complete creative control by the Captains of the ship, then it may be time for you to evaluate if that is the type of place you want to work. For some people, that type of design dictatorship is what they want after a long line of wishy-washy creatives that are unable to make any sort of decision. But if you are brimming with ideas and have the ability to think them through the entire development process, that type of controlled environment probably isn’t for you.

Unless of course you are in line towards being that iron clad ruler of decisions, in which case, best of luck when you get there. Just make sure to wrap that iron glove in velvet when a proper idea comes across your desk. Those are coming from people just like you, who care about the game as much as you do. And you wouldn’t want to lose them the same way other studios lost you.

Games are made of verbs. Run, jump, punch, crouch. Hand held controllers are able to simulate the input of the player to use those verbs in a rather precise way, be it on/off or analog. And as developers, designing around verbs is a pretty straightforward affair which we have been doing since the first game was played. But when it gets to adverbs, the emotional variables of a verb, neither the controller or developer seems to be aware of what to do with them beyond pure visuals.

Enter motion controls. While initially it is the verbs we assign to the gestures, such as swing a sword, we quickly find out that they just don’t quite match up the crisply defined input of a controller.  Motion Controls also lack a tactile sense of feedback in many cases, making all those verbs feel hollow when we don’t feel the physical reaction. It is a fun gimmick, but we quickly grow tired of the theatrics and plug our plastic hands back into the machine.

So if verbs aren’t best used for motion controls, how can we use them as adverbs and adjectives?

Some emotional poses are so universal, they can even be understood when displayed by inanimate objects

Body Language

Our bodies display our moods and emotions as much as our voice or face.  How we sit, cross our legs, touch our face, or with what speed we move conveys a wealth of information about our true intentions. Recognizing those gestures and poses is something our brains process on an almost unconscious level. Like most things we do unconsciously, purposefully translating that can be rather hard to execute. But what if we added the recognition of body language into our games? For example, if someone is getting tired, the game could recognize it and scale back the pace. Maybe the player is getting bored, so the AI scales in difficulty. What if the player is displaying frustration? Possibly the game could provide a hint or item to help out.

Another approach could be adding body language controls to another player that essentially directs a number of influences onto the game. Much in the same vein as I’d proposed in a previous article, with the idea of another player using instrument controllers to conduct the tempo or player buffs of a first person shooter, how you choose to express emotions with your body could lead to all sorts of additive features to the game. An entire game around the first player as the traditional hero escorting the second player, whose only ability is to manipulate the world based on their body language could certainly lead to a deeper ludic connection of the player’s roles.

The first step towards any of this would most likely require some canned poses built into the system that the player can assume to tell the game what they are “feeling”. But if we could build the library of those poses to include some more natural ones, a real sense of personal connection could be built with the game. Your acting choices could be met with those of the game, opening up a true dialogue and conversation.

Suggestive Poses

If we are talking about the controlled use of gestures to illicit subconscious reactions in others, then there are certainly a few professions that we could adapt towards gameplay. From politicians and preachers to lawyers and prostitutes, all have figured out what gestures can be used to further suggest their message. Be it a game where you have to amp up your troops before battle, seduce an enemy into giving you information, give a convincing closing argument to a jury, or hold the attention of an audience as you give a speech, body language and gesture choices would make all the difference in the world. The easiest method of integrating this would be essentially quick time events, but if they were built in not as the sole method of defining the win/lose scenario of a game, but as a way to nudge the scales in your favor, it could be a powerful tool for both the player and developer.

Gestures can captivate an audience, no matter the message

At a certain point, players will certainly try to cheat the system, by either acting bored, or frustrated, as a sort of emotional “tilt” mechanism. This is great tho, as it would blur the line and intention between game and real life. Often times people try to act or emote in a manner that will get them what they want from others. Building an entire game system around the idea of faking emotions, in an attempt to trick the game or other players, could lead to some interesting scenarios. What if the player was a hostage or being tortured, and had to keep their captor distracted long enough for a rescue team to save them? What if this was added as a multiplayer component to an L.A.Noire style of interrogations, where you try to throw off the other player with your actions?

Cultural Poses

So beyond the obvious technical issues or reasons why I’m sure many of you are shaking your head at such propositions, let me heap on another issue. Localization of gestures could be rather tricky. Every culture not only has unique gestures or expressions but also vary to what degree they express themselves physically. If an entire games core mechanics revolved around body language or gestures, there is a good chance it could require a complete retooling when being localized. If the idea is to gauge how strongly you should show or press your emotions, those levels would need to be balanced completely differently for an American market vs a Chinese market.

BUT, we could also use those differences to our advantage. The chance to learn, practice, adapt or even exploit cultural gestures in a game space could be a fantastic social experience. How different cultures react to themselves or towards others is a game that many play everyday in real life. Being able to replicate or amplify that experience sounds incredibly fascinating to me as both a developer and player.

Other Input Methods 

I don’t believe motion controls to be the only means towards making such experiences. Voice could be used in much the same way as I mentioned earlier, using pitch and volume as meters to create additive experiences. It certainly seemed like such an idea was being attempted in Milo, as I remember at one point in the video he questioned why the player was sad. But imagine adding those variables to voice commands when ordering squad mates. Depending on how stern or timid you instruct them affects how likely they are to succeed in their mission or even follow orders.

While it seems to have retreated into the shadows, the Wii’s Vitality Sensor certainly could mimic these same ideas. Touch controls, as far as pressure sensitivity, could certainly replicate some of these ideas as well.

I would also be remiss if I didn’t point out the idea of hugging or petting your pet in Kinectimals as a first step down this path. While those are both verbs, there is a strong emotional attachment and purpose to those actions. Silent Hill:Shattered Memories also had some interesting emotional effects attached the action of pushing off the monsters as your only means of dealing with attacks. Inherently it is a wild, thrashing motion, but the need of some precision in control forced the player to still keep some wits to them in an intentionally erratic scenario.

Closing Argument 

I’ve only skimmed the surface on how body language, emotion, gesture controls and performance could all come together. Tying it in with my earlier post of the player and game as actors seems like a no brainer as well. But if any of these ideas excite you, I’ve some wonderful resources for you to absorb like a sponge.

If the topic of body language, especially as it relates to different cultures, is something that interests you, then Desmond Morris is going to be your new best friend. He has a series of books you can check out, as well as The Human Animal, a series that ran on BBC, that will excite you to no end.

I’ve also been hooked (pun slightly intended) on the books and lectures of Ed Hooks. His upcoming revision of Acting for Animators is going to include how his principles relate to games. After having just attended one of his talks, his enthusiasm, appreciation and respect for this medium is something I haven’t seen before from others in the same vein.

Adapting their observations into games can be done in any number of ways, not just through motion control. But with motion controls being at a sort of cultural tipping point, it certainly seems like a relevant approach towards creating new experiences.

The first step towards being prepared is to be aware that it can happen to you. Yes, you. I’ve seen amazing people let go, yet sub par devs kept on. Layoffs are a cruel beast that knows not the meaning of “fair.” Instead of trying to fight the why, it is best to steel yourself in case you may find yourself in the cold, harsh wasteland of layoff land. For all you experienced Eagle Scout devs, this is probably just going to bring about somber head nods. But for all you young Cub Scouts, just getting started on your journey, sit down next to my digital campfire. This could keep you alive out there.

The next step is to always, I mean ALWAYS, keep backups of your work. If the worst happens, you want to be able to apply for a new gig right away, and if you have to wait a few weeks for the studio to get you copies of your work, it is only going to make the job hunt more stressful. You want to strike while the iron is hot, and as crappy as this sounds, you will be competing against all the awesome people you worked with that were also laid off. It is best to be ahead of the maelstrom, and not surrounded by it. You don’t need to have your reel or portfolio completely up to date at all times, but you should always have everything you need ready, so that if it comes down to it, you can have it all together within a moment’s notice. This is a grey area however depending on the studio you work at. Some are completely open to you having your work saved for personal use, some have a don’t ask, don’t tell policy, and some will only allow work that they personally sanction or watermark to leave the building. Make sure you know which boat you are in before you fill up your inflatable life raft with screenshots or videos of your work. In those cases you are unable to have personal copies of your work beforehand, save local files of everything you want at an easy to get to place on your work computer. Nothing compounds the stress of finding out you are about to be out of a job by trying to track down all the source files of everything you have worked on. It will also make the job of whoever has to get those files to you a lot easier, which could translate in you getting them sooner.

After you have your survival gear, the next step is to know your environment. If someone is surprised that their studio is having layoffs, then there is a good chance they haven’t been paying attention. There are warning signs if you are vigilant. If you are new to the event, the easiest way to recognize the possibility is by how busy you and those around you are. If everyone is perpetually behind on their tasks, up to their neck in work, and it has always been that way, then there are some serious management issues. Obviously projects haven’t been planned out, which will reflect in the quality of the work, which then impacts how attractive the studio is to publishers. The other end of the spectrum is if there are a lot of people sitting around with not much to do. That means there is a good chance the studio overstaffed on the last project, and if you don’t see another project about to start into full production immediately, “restructuring” probably isn’t that far behind.

Next, get to know your lead and other seniors/veterans of the studio. Beyond just helping you learn more about your craft, they can be your wilderness guide when it comes to surviving layoffs. They’ve got their finger on the cultural pulse, and have for quite some time, which allows them to gauge far better than anyone what the atmosphere is. Stay close to them, and keep your ears open. By their tone and disposition you can learn everything you need to know about what is going on up top even if they don’t explicitly say so. Much like trying to earn your Wilderness Tracking Badge, be aware of what changes are taking place in your working environment and how they move. Has something large, burly and destructive moved through there recently? Does something smell rotten or foul? Does it feel like you are being watched by the eyes of a predator? This is why you need to have your senses primed, something you can learn from your seniors, you can get a feel for how publisher and project relations are going. If you get that feeling that something bad could happen, listen to your instincts. Those instincts can give you the time to decide between fight or flight.

Choosing to fight is about as noble a choice as a game developer can make. If you are in a position to be able to do so, go for it. There is a good chance that if you are capable of making a difference or grabbing hold of the reigns and righting the ship, then short of a complete studio shutdown, you are probably safer than most from being laid off. Of course, that also means you are in the unenviable position of potentially having to tell co-workers they are being laid off if things go bad. But that is again a topic that I’m not qualified talking about as it is a burden I’ve never had to shoulder thankfully. How someone deals with this is the sort of dark quandary best discussed with some beer instead of s’mores.

So what if you choose flight? There are a variety of reasons you may choose to go that route. It could be that you know layoffs are coming and you don’t feel safe. Possibly you see them coming and know that the people being kept on are not ones you would enjoy working with. Or maybe you are just tired of the atmosphere and the constant threat of layoffs, even if they may never come. Whatever your reason, there are some ways to go about it without burning down your entire campsite and the surrounding forest.

Be smart. Don’t promote the fact you are looking to leave, as it will do no favors to anyone around you. Don’t slack off at work or be completely transparent to the fact that you are applying elsewhere, because if layoffs do come, you are only sealing your fate even more. You also don’t know who else is applying to where, and may find that you work with some of them again. Last thing you want is for them to speak poorly of you.

Be aware of the studios you are interested in and if they have your position available. If things aren’t going well at your current studio, but you see one of your preferred options looking, you don’t necessarily want to wait. That job could be gone by the time you need it. You could also find out that you don’t really click with that new studio, which is good to know when you still have other options. Always best to scout out the next digs while you have your old ones to keep you warm.

When you are getting your reel or portfolio together, and begin to send it out, what are you going to do with work that is so far unreleased to the general public? This is another potential sand trap that developers both new and senior fall into. First off, and this should be common sense yet ALWAYS seems to happen, is to not post anything confidential on LinkedIn, Vimeo or Youtube. If your resume is public, and your last title is unreleased, don’t list the name of the project on your CV. If the game isn’t announced, and you have some of it on your reel, do not post it for anyone to see. Because someone from a gaming website will find it, and your name will be part of the story. Leaking a project is not something that will make you more attractive to your next employer. Again, common sense, but it happens all the time.

So how do you show off all that hard work, especially since it is your most recent experience? You can create two reels or portfolios, one that is public, with NDA safe work and another that has additional unreleased work that you have hidden or password protected on your website, which you can link potential employers to. Another method is to let the employer know newer work exists, but you are only willing to show it in person and not able to give out any copies. It is your decision on which best suits your purposes. If your work is strong enough without it, then you can go with the in person approach. If you believe that without the new work you are going to be in a hard position to find a new job, then having a hidden/protected link is your best bet. But be aware, that can also bite you in the butt. Most studios understand or don’t seem to care about you having that work on your reel, but I have heard of a studio being turned off by an applicant including work of an unreleased project. Like everything concerning this topic, there is no perfect answer. The best you can do is be smart and use your common sense for what is best.

Preparing for layoffs suck. Making games is hard enough without having to watch your back out there. Just discussing layoffs can suck the optimism out of the conversation, and the hope is that as game development grows, they become less of a reality. But if you are prepared for the worst, it means you don’t have to worry about what you would do if things do take a dark turn. You can continue on the road towards being a kick ass game dev, knowing that you are able to take on whatever comes your way. Ultimately, if you are smart enough to know or practice what I’ve talked about, your preparedness also comes through in your work and how you tackle all the challenges of game development.

I’ll leave you with this quote from the Boy Scouts webpage:

“Be prepared for what?” someone once asked Baden-Powell, the founder of Scouting,

“Why, for any old thing.” said Baden-Powell.

Baden-Powell wasn’t thinking just of being ready for emergencies. His idea was that all Scouts should prepare themselves to become productive citizens and to give happiness to other people. He wanted each Scout to be ready in mind and body for any struggles, and to meet with a strong heart whatever challenges might lie ahead.

Be prepared for life - to live happily and without regret, knowing that you have done your best. That’s what the Scout motto means.

How does someone become a good actor? Certainly, some are born with a gift for it more than others. But much of it comes from being able to let go of inhibitions and embrace the role. It isn’t about controlled lying and the reciting of preconceived lines but about delivering a performance with authenticity. SO, how do we as developers become better actors which will in turn allow the player to let go and become that actor they want to be?

Before we can apply acting principles to games, let’s first define what makes for great acting. A rather timely list crossed my twitter feed this week giving 10 top tips by acting coach Mark Westbrook. These tips are fantastic because they focus on getting past our self-conscious nature and finding authenticity in the roles we take on. Essentially they find the truth in imagination, which is what immersion is all about. Let’s focus on a few of these tips and how they relate to both the developer and the player.

“The great enemy of authentic behaviour is self consciousness. To evaporate self-conscious, you need to give the consciousness something else to focus on. Something achievable to really do in the scene. A TASK. A living, breathing, constantly changing entity. If you attempt to achieve your TASK, there’s a good chance that it will change.”

This is great, because in giving yourself a task, you are giving yourself a goal. When that happens, you stop being aware of the moment and are instantly thinking of both the before and after of everything you are doing in an effort to reach your objective. And that is when an actor comes alive, because they are more than just what they are saying. They are a thought process. In also giving a goal you allow the actor (read: player) to use the lines (tools) they are given to reach the goal in a more natural way.

But as if that task was another actor, make the goals of your game ever changing and evolving. Let the objectives seem almost as aware of the player as the player is of them. Again, that keeps the player thinking and adapting, bringing their own honest reactions to the games evolving challenges.

This is something that player driven experiences can use when trying to still deliver some sort of over arching narrative to great effect. Games certainly make it easier for someone to be less self conscious of their actions than in real life, but any self conscious behavior can ruin the authenticity of the experience and will quickly lead to the player’s actions as being out of character with the rest of their experience. Instead of just throwing the player into the world, coach the player to be a better actor. This can be through the games systems and mechanics, an NPC, or quest. Think of the game as a supporting actor for the player, as lead actor, to perform with. If the game can honestly react to the player’s TASK, there is a good chance the player will continue on the path towards their own Academy Award.

“The way that we achieve our TASK is through strategy. We call the small strategies that we employ TACTICS. TACTICS are verbs that can be done to someone else. You can pre-plan which to use when, but that’s not really authentic because you need to respond in the moment to what your TARGET is doing!”

This goes hand in hand with wanting a living, breathing, constantly changing entity for the player to work towards. When we give the player systems or mechanics that work together, we are giving them the ability to create tactics, which is one more step towards keeping the player from being too aware of their lines. But just as we want to keep them on their toes by not allowing the same tactic to work for them every time in game, we need to not try to always pre-plan our own tactics as developers. Overly scripted sequences, invisible barriers, locking out the player from certain actions because it could break something are the quickest way to make the player self conscious and aware of your game. And once that authenticity is broken, it can be incredibly hard to re-establish. Think of methods when your game responds to a player’s TASK not by blocking them, but dodging them. The player is just using the tools given to them, their script, and as supporting actor, it isn’t the game’s place to yell, “CUT!”

“Connect to what doing your TASK is like by finding a parallel in your imagination or memory. In your imagination you must still use a real person, but day dream to imagine what that TASK is like to you. What would you do to the person if you needed to get the TASK achieved? Do those things to the TARGET.”

This one falls on the shoulders of developers as this relates directly towards what the player sees on screen after a decision has been made. Sure, it could resonate with the player more if it reminds them of something similar in their own life, but this is not something we can count on or even really expect. So finding and maintaining the authenticity is up to us. This is where we get to do some method acting. Or in this case, method developing. Act out your scenes. Become the character you want the player to control. Try and wield a tool or weapon in real life to get a tactile feel of that object. Try and recreate the scenarios for yourself, in a room somewhere, and see how you would react. See what you would want to do when presented with a similar problem. Do this before you even take the time to design the full level or game. Because when YOU are in the thick of it, you will see what the character would want to do in game. That in turn will translate to what the player wants to do. And that is where you will get a beautiful harmony of character, player, and narrative.

If you are creating a war game, get the entire team together and stage airsoft or paintball scenarios, so that they can feel what it is like to be in the thick of it, whether they would be running full steam or crouching and walking slowly. Find out what it feels like to be ambushed and shot. Go to a shooting range to understand the weight and feel of a real weapon. If you have a character with a big backpack, wear a giant backpack to see how you react with it on. If you are creating a tense, horror game, go to a haunted house and see how you react and move. Observe the actions of those around you to see how they move through the rooms. All of these moments and experiences will add to your understanding of the situation, and while they might not be 1 to 1, you can at least sympathize with the characters in the world. Everything you create you should try to have some touchstone in real world experience. Because that is when you will bring your own personal touches, which will make it feel unique and honest.

“Learn the lines cold. That means so you don’t need to think of them. If you need to reach for the lines at any time, you’ll be distracted, self conscious and dead in the water. Learn them without intonation or tonal inflection though – in other words don’t fix your speech patterns – otherwise you’ll struggle to change moment to moment.”

Obviously this means give the player controls that aren’t going to be hard to grok and give them the appropriate amount of time to learn them. Overly complex controls that aren’t natural to the gameplay, but randomly required will force the player to look at their controller for a moment. At that moment, they have to yell out the gameplay equivalent of “LINE!” And nothing makes someone more self conscious than that.

But as developers, it means know your subject. Before you can make it move, you must understand what it looks like standing still. You have to know the form, the structure, the purpose. It means you must know your tools. You have to be comfortable with a pencil, before you can bring a drawn character to life. This is obviously the same with a rig, software package or editor. But on a deeper level, it also means, KNOW THE CHARACTER. Know their personality, their background. Know what they would say, and when they would say it. Get inside their heads, and get into character. This is how you convey not just their physical weight, but learn to understand and express their emotional weight.

“Actors speak the language of action. Don’t expect everyone else to speak your language though, but always translate whatever you’ve been asked to do back into action. Directors often talk in terms of the results they want and often you’re on your own as to how you deliver these results. When you do these tactics with the same intention as the character, you give the illusion the director wanted.”

Alright, this is equally the most fun and dreaded part of any acting experience. IMPROV! The first rule of improv is that you always say “YES and” to whatever the other actor says. Instead of saying “No” and stopping the experience dead in its tracks, you go along with what has been given to you and you build upon it.

For the player, this is the best part of the game. This is where they get to go all MacGyver with the tools and systems you have given them and if your game is living up to its supporting actor aspirations, the player gets to act it out with the authenticity of Marlon Brando. As with staying away from pre-planned tactics, force your game to adhere to the “Yes and” rule.

But beyond the back and forth with the player, improv can be a powerful tool for the entire development team. It encourages everyone to become less self conscious, increasingly capable of dealing with failure, and more eager to say “Yes and” during critiques and play tests.

With all the silly ways games are compared to film and the insane culture that surrounds actors, it is easy to forget how much we can learn from them. Acting is the craft of being able to authentically imagine yourself as someone else. As games, we provide that opportunity to anyone that picks up the controller. Let’s make sure that we are allowing the player to be the actor they didn’t even know they were capable of being by getting past our own self-conciousness.

How de we go about creating a game that can foster a loving relationship with the player? In large part, it isn’t much different than how we would foster a loving relationship with another person. Honesty, compassion, respect, surprises, a sense of humor, good looks… we all know the laundry list, but most games still come off as crass or awkward in spite of all the E-Harmony commercials streamed into our brains. So put on a little mood music, poor a little bubbly, and let’s find the ways to a player’s heart.

Good Looks

It may be shallow, but unless it is an audio only experience, looks matter. It is what initially catches someone’s eye. If your game is aesthetically pleasing, you will not only have an easier time introducing it to other people, you will have people introducing themselves to you so they can check it out. But know the difference between a beautiful aesthetic and an ugly graphics whore. It is Audrey Hepburn vs Snooki. Simple and refined wins out over too textured and overly flashy every time when you are looking for an enduring, timeless look. Even if you aren’t blessed with the best artistic ability, much like every man that isn’t Jon Hamm, if you at least put in some effort and establish a clean, put together look, you will do fine.

An entire series of articles could be written about aesthetics, but half the fun of establishing a great look is finding inspiration from things you find beautiful.  Much like putting up a picture of someone you want to look like next to the mirror in your gym, surround yourself with art that inspires you. The more you train your eye to see what is aesthetically pleasing, the easier it will be to maintain a unique, natural style for your game. And those good looks will give you the confidence to start a dialogue with the player. It will also stand out above the crowd of gritty, desaturated machismo.

Good Conversation

Most previews and demos give off the impression of “How YOU doin?” when first approaching someone new. Be it cheap gimmicks, false bravado, or played out buzz words, how the conversation starts cements the first impression of the player. Instead of using a tired out pick up line, start the conversation with something genuine and aware of what the player is probably thinking or doing at that moment. This is where you have to not only be aware of what your visual expectations are but also live up to them. It doesn’t matter how amazing your game looks, if you say something boneheaded, crass or disrespectful right out of the gate, you have already turned off the player. But don’t rush right ahead into all your hopes and desires, showing off everything you’ve got, as that only stands to make you seem scatterbrained or insecure. And don’t just show or tell them what you think they want to hear, because then you aren’t being true to yourself.

So identify what the strengths of your game are. Think of a moment or mechanic that really identifies what your game is all about and then walk it back to just a few moments before that. This way you can hint at what it is that makes your game tick, to pull the player in, without scaring them away by being too forceful. Then you can organically let the player find that moment, allowing them to become invested in the conversation.

Once you have broken the ice, both your game and the player will be able to comfortably talk to one another about this shared interest and build more moments like that one. You can drill deeper into what makes those moments tick and how to expand on them in a meaningful way for both. Then they may find other interests they share, or even better, open up one another to ideas that neither had thought of before. Those are actually what move the relationship forward. Challenging one another to think and experience new ideas. That means, as a game, you need to let it to shut up every once in a while and let the player drive the conversation. If you have scripted every moment, every interaction, every command input, then you have essentially created a digital Me-Monster. And nobody wants to stay in a relationship with someone like that.

Find moments in your game when it can stop talking, and just listen. We create worlds that are designed to answer the player when they ask a question. The best games encourage the player to ask as many questions as they can, or challenges the game to react to a new set of actions by the player. Yes, this is scary, because it takes control away from the game, but that’s what you do if you want a great, lasting relationship. This is why many people enjoy Saints Row over Grand Theft Auto. Saints Row listens to the player’s mayhem and encourages it if that is where the conversation lies. They relish every moment that the player asks for a reaction from the game.

Surprises

Surprises are what keep the spark alive in a relationship. They don’t always have to be big or elaborate, but just something special that says, “Look, I was thinking about you even when I wasn’t with you.” It is definitely an easier time surprising the player when they first pick up your game, by showing them something new. But as they progress further, the harder it becomes to surprise them. It doesn’t help that many games front load all their surprises for fear that the player won’t hang around long enough to get to the big one. But if you pace your surprises out, saving a big surprise for last means you’ve left the player enamored with your game. That is the game they will talk about to their friends with glowing affection. Bioshock is a perfect example of this with its narrative twist towards the end. It reinvested players and got them talking when they thought they had the whole game figured out.

Surprises are also why people love multiplayer games. They get to continually learn something new about the game, as if it exists even when the player isn’t around. They get to take the information they learned about the game from their personal time, and adapt that into an environment where the game has other friends. But to rely solely on the multiplayer aspect isn’t enough anymore when everyone seems to have that.

Unique win conditions or rule sets can be used to spice up the relationship. This is something Halo does well, introducing new or different modes on a regular basis. Player generated maps are also another method, tho they can often just as easily break the voice of the game as much as strengthen it. This means the good conversation you have spent all that time building can be betrayed by a gluttony of point grab maps or levels shaped like penis monsters. Little Big Planet walks this fine line by attempting to moderate the content, but adding in player voting means the voice can again come across as schizophrenic. Downloadable Content is the other method games often employ to surprise the player. Tho DLC is a minefield of player betrayal, so much like a committed life partner, you don’t want to patronize the player with a half hearted “gifts” that you bought more for yourself then them. Team Fortress 2 and Burnout Paradise are perfect examples of surprising the player and extending their relationship through timely and thoughtful gifts, which in turn fosters the player to return the favor through purchasing something else as a gift to the game.

Find moments during development that you can surprise yourself and your team. Often times making those surprises come to life is a challenge, but that is how you know you have come across a surprise that the player is going to love.

Trust

But what all relationships boil down to is trust. Players need to trust our games, and our games need to trust the player.

Often times when working on a game we hear, “What happens if the player tries to break this?” Essentially, we are asking what happens if they betray the game. But simultaneously, our answers are “Betray them back.” We tightly script the sequence so that they can’t break it, or water down the experience so much that the player doesn’t even care to try and betray it. But betrayal is going to happen and designing your game around the idea of not letting the player betray the game is like keeping a wall around your emotions. You have to put yourself out there if you want to love, and your game needs to do the same thing. Yes, you can get burned, but you need to trust that the player won’t want to betray you. Instead of trying to plan on how they will betray you, set up a system than let’s your game react to the betrayal. Let your game become sad, angry, reclusive or supportive to the player’s actions, giving the player the option to respond compassionately or continue with the betrayal.

An interesting example of dealing with this is Furby. Listening to an episode of Radio Lab they touched upon what happens when you turn a Furby upside down, and why that moment can stick with people. When you turn one upside down, it says “I’m Scared” or “Put Me Down.” And at that moment, it feels alive. Beyond the cold, plastic eyes and clicking mechanisms inside, we are able to project an emotion into this toy.

Furby has three control points in its design:

• Show emotion
• React to the environment
• Change over time

Those are three elements that drive what games are about, and perfect for building not only a conversation and sense of trust in the player, but genuine reactions for when the game is betrayed. Instead of controlling, the game is responding to the freedom it gives the player. And that is what trust is all about.

Will You Go With Me?

Building and maintaining relationships is something we do everyday, and it is something everyone strives to become more adept at. Building our games to match that human need can create experiences far more rewarding for both the player and us as developers when we finally release it into the world. Think about the relationships that have meant the most to you, both good and bad, and find ways to inject the timeline and lessons learned into your creation. You will find that many more people will be checking the YES block when your game asks them to go out.

Be it the idea of regularly stepping back from your creation, working general to specific, or even the 12 principles of animation, each can translate almost 1:1 towards game development. But there is one best practice that hit me like a bolt of lightning when I learned about it in art school. So much so that it became the first thing I looked for or noticed when critiquing someone’s work. Yet, I hadn’t before tried to relate it to game design.

Tangents

There are multiple ways a tangent can occur, but what it boils down to is when two objects on different planes, when displayed in a 2d manner, share the same edge line. This causes the eye to lose any sense of depth in the image, resulting in an optical illusion that flattens out that area of the image.

I have adapted a drawing of mine to illustrate what a few different types of tangents look like. Up first is the original drawing in which I was mindful of tangents.

Here now is a version that has more tangents than a Foghorn Leghorn monologue.

At first you might not see much difference, but I’ve highlighted many of the problem areas, doing my best Hollywood plastic surgeon impersonation.

The circles denote places where two object’s contours collide next to one another (such as his right heel against his left leg) or even share the exact same line (such as the right leg’s quad leading into the front of the groin). These create the illusion that instead of one being more forward or back in space, each now reside side by side because they share the same edge.

The arrows highlight places where contours are drawn in parallel to another close by (such as his right upper arm) essentially creating a flat pattern or shape, instead of a volumetric form.

Also notice that these can apply beyond the just the character’s own internal space, but also with the background and the picture frame, such as with his right toe sharing a contour with rock and his left foot butting against the bottom edge of the picture. All of these may be subtle, but each weaken the structural integrity of the drawing the same way being slightly off key can weaken a song.

Applying Tangents to Game Design

Think of your game’s mechanics. Is there one that is more important than others yet it is often overshadowed by them? For instance, you are making an FPS in which kicking open a door feels more powerful than the melee attack. Most likely opening a door isn’t as viscerally important as being able to attack in close combat, so you have now created an edge case between two separate actions of different importance competing for the appropriate attention. Maybe you are making a 3rd person game where the roll/evade mechanic moves at a faster overall rate of travel than the run. When the player now rolls through the entire game, you have created a tangent between those two movement mechanics and which should be in the foreground of player movement, and which should be in the background.

The same can be said of the world or characters in your game. Is your main character’s abilities or personality getting lost or becoming redundant next to an NPC’s? I know I was taken aback in Mario Kart Wii when each driver no longer possessed stats, but instead they were assigned to the vehicles. All the characters, which I had previously identified with based on their differing playstyles was lost, creating a tangent amongst all of them. What about primary vs secondary items or weapons? In Assassin’s Creed I never feel a need to change between all of Ezio’s weapons beyond just wanting to look at some new animations. The edge of each weapon’s purpose is shared from one to the next. All are equally useful and as such none really stand out. Tangents are the mortal enemy of depth.

The idea of core and secondary tenents are something that every developer is aware of, but defining where one can stop and the other begins can become tricky and is often the victim of feature creep, wanting to make every feature overpowered and awesome. And that is where you begin walking into the minefield of tangents.

Avoiding Tangents

This goes hand in hand with the animation principle known as staging. A great way of finding out the strength of your staging is by creating a silhouette  of your creation to find out if it can read in its most basic form.

I quickly posed this free 3d model to demonstrate the power of using silhouettes. Notice how each part of the pose can read well enough when its shaded, but in silhouette the character’s right thumb touching the body flattens out any forward depth the arm has. Also notice how his back left arm appears shorter than the other arm because the elbow is not staged in a way that it breaks up the overall arm shape. The back ear can also be mistaken for the character’s eyeball since its shape and location matches where the eye might be. All of these add up to a feeling of flatness, even in the shaded model.

Tangents are something you need to be aware of when laying out the overall vision and then again when you are polishing and adding in the final details. Define your main components early, like you would lay out a drawing. Think roughly how they fit together, and when two begin to butt too close to one another, either pull them apart or allow one to overlap and cover the other. It is when you allow both to do the same thing that you create a tangent. Even worse is when you create arbitrary instances of one working over the other which results in a weird Venn diagram style tangent.

It is then important when polishing up each section that you stay aware of everything else that is going on around it. Be aware that adding in a new detail or function could create a tangent with something else in the game. If so, you then either decide how to move them apart, or which is more important and supersedes the other. Which belongs in the foreground and which should fade into the background is something the player should inherently feel while playing the game.

Like all art however, tangents aren’t an absolute, just a best practice. There are certainly artists that use tangents to create their own unique visual language, leveraging the optical illusions they create to attract the viewer in new ways. I’m sure the same can be said about using tangents to create a complex game system with a high barrier of entry to attract a specific audience. Or to create an unreliable narrator style mechanic to challenge the player. But both would take a masterful touch to pull off without feeling broken. Know the rules before you break them.

Much like adapting other artistic principles to game design, a lot of this is second nature or part of another rule game designers are more likely to use. But when artists can begin to take the terms they already know, and can communicate them in a ludic nature, a greater understanding across disciplines can flourish.

But like having beliefs in real life, it is a double edge sword. As soon as those beliefs are called into question, your entire reality can become questionable. The deeper or more core to the person or world the belief, the further everything can come crashing down the moment they are betrayed.

But, when we are mindful of those beliefs, we can not only plan on where to implement them, but also use them to inform us of priorities in everything from game mechanics to which assets require the most polish.

The easiest place to establish a belief system in your game is with your characters. It can be as simple as a black and white moral code (good or evil, life or death) or something more gray (political beliefs or spirituality). In either case, just mentioning them on a base level can make the character infinitely more identifiable to the player. But it is when you can weave them into the actions and appearance of the character that you will have the most success and payoff.

Left 4 Dead does a great job of having character designs that instantly informs the player of where the main characters fit into society before the zombie outbreak. And from that, we can make assumptions of what they believed in, compare that to what our own personal beliefs are, and find the one that matches us best. That makes the horror of an outbreak feel all the more real, because not only are we confronting the monsters in the game, but our own internal fears about what we would do in that situation.

After appearance, motion is the second step towards visually identifying someone’s beliefs. Getting into those beliefs of a character and how it drives their actions is what animation is all about. The idea of giving truth in the motion means more than just its physical believability. It is what is emotionally driving that physical movement that truly defines the character and makes them believable. And those beliefs will help drive the player forward as well.

Knowing that Kratos enjoys dismantling his foes and feels no remorse reinforces the brutal animations and gameplay of cutting through waves of enemies. As the player you relish the chance for a large mob to appear that you can dissect in the cruelest manners possible. Contrast this with Nathan Drake, who values life in cut scenes, yet mows down enemy after enemy in game with little care. This disconnect can betray the sincerity of those beliefs and even be comical when honestly examined. The same can be said of John Marston, who complains about doing the right thing and being his own man in cut scenes, yet without hesitation  guns down the rebels you have been helping because someone from the other side tells you to. Very quickly his motive and actions turn hollow, and many people feel that when playing through that portion of the game.

All three are recognizable and memorable characters, but only one allows the player to practice what he preaches.

For games where the avatar is meant to be more of a blank slate, that allows the player to inject their own beliefs or choices, it becomes all the more important for the supporting characters of the world to have strongly held beliefs. Mass Effect 2 does this brilliantly, and many of the most emotionally compelling sequences stem from this. Be it Thane’s deep religious values that conflict with his profession, Mordin’s almost absolute belief in knowledge and science over emotion, or Jack’s inability to believe in anyone except herself, those characters are strong because it feels that their convictions come from an honest place. When those beliefs are challenged by either the player or the world is when they become truly alive.

A big part of establishing this belief system and maintaining it is through an exhaustive character bible. Beyond just model sheets and reference for movements, really think about what drives the character forward. What has lead them to the point they are at when the game starts, and where do they draw the line in their world, as to what they believe in. Do their beliefs change or grow as the game progresses?

Do they mind getting their hands dirty or are they reluctant to do so? Both can allow for the same overall gameplay and creation of assets, but being aware of what they believe can make what happens before, during and after all the more meaningful when the animations or dialog matches those beliefs. This goes for not only the character, but the player. In fact, going a step further, this is how we can even begin to color the player’s beliefs, and make them question their own values versus those of the characters in the game.

Approaching morality and beliefs in this manner requires a level of intellectual investment and involvement by the player that can exceed the binary wheel of good or evil many games use. It also removes the need for an in game win/lose state which can blunt the moral impact for the player, when they care more about the reward or win than the emotion or morality of the decision. Giving the player choice in the outcome of their experience is what sets us apart from other forms of media. But when you force them to not just watch, but play in the life of a character they morally oppose or disagree with, the effect can be incredibly moving.

You can also take those beliefs of a character, and inject them into the gameplay, beyond just moral decisions. Valkyria Chronicles goes so far as having a character’s beliefs actually affect their abilities. Each character has a set of special abilities that gives them different buffs in battle. Often times they are directly tied to their upbringing, sexual orientation or racial beliefs. So for example, Dallas Wyatt, a female engineer, is attracted to women and dislikes men. To convey in game that she has a strong attraction to girls (one in particular), pairing her with female soldiers will cause her to start fighting better in order to impress them. Conversely, she is given a fighting penalty in-game where her stats will go down when near male squadmates.  Other characters have a strong bias against other factions or races, which can directly impact how useful they are in battle when around those groups. It adds an emotional complexity to the battles that fosters actual bonds between the player and their preferred team members. Add in the perma-death feature, and very quickly, as a player, you begin to take each battle and move of your troops personally. I’ve talked to people who have played the game that actually forsake using a higher tiered character because their beliefs were against their own. They actually chose to make the game harder for themselves to stand firm of their own beliefs. That is the power of merging beliefs into game systems.

Once the beliefs of the main characters have been established, showing how the world reacts to those beliefs is a natural way to show how strong their convictions are and to what lengths they fit in with the world. One of the main moments that sticks out to me from Beyond Good & Evil is when after fighting to expose the conspirators of the world, I go back to the city hub that I had traveled through many times before. But this time the town was rioting, and tearing down the propaganda they had bought into up to that point. Seeing my actions translate to the world resonated with me in a way I hadn’t really experienced before. My actions and Jade’s beliefs made that world re-evaluate theirs. It is the type of thing everyone dreams about: making a difference and having everyone understand what you believe in. It isn’t something many people get a chance to feel, on that level, in real life. It would be a shame to squander that opportunity when it is possible for everyone to feel that in games.

L.A.Noire reinforces the beliefs of Cole Phelps on multiple levels, from art to design. The little touch of him stepping over the body at a crime scene helps to ingrain his level of respect for the job in a much deeper way for me than anything he says in a cut scene. Having the amount of damage I cause to the city, pedestrians or police car tallied at the end of each case and my partner yelling at me every time I hit something reminds me of the laws I am sworn to uphold more than any of the monologues being spouted. So much so that for the first time in an open world game, I actually paid attention to the stop lights and obeyed traffic laws. And if I was going to disobey them, I used my siren. The game required neither of me, but because it had honestly established what the characters believed in, I wanted to carry that narrative forward through my play style.

I contrast this with my experience in Grand Theft Auto IV. When Niko starts the game reluctant to kill anyone, I instantly felt drawn to his story. His beliefs were established up front, and I really appreciated the effort. When he quickly falls back into the crime lifestyle thanks to his cousin, and is forced to kill a man, I was excited when he cursed his cousin’s name after it happened. I couldn’t wait for him to verbally cut loose on his cousin, if not physically cut him for it. Yet, when Niko got into the car, and sat next to his cousin, all he said was, “It’s done.” I felt so betrayed that I took the disc out.

That is how powerful we as humans are in our beliefs and how attached we can become to those of the characters in our games. As with any belief system, if it isn’t respected, it is going to cause a person to lash out. Having your own beliefs and knowing others is a special gift. Let’s make sure, as game developers, we are not only aware of our character’s beliefs but that we also take note of what the player’s may be. Neither are easy to tap into, and if done half assed it can cause more harm than good. But when done right, it can be felt in a way that everyone involved in the experience will deeply appreciate.

Define the beliefs of your game. Identify the parts of your game that speak to those beliefs, and shine a light on them. Root out the moments that betray it, and remove them or change them to match. Doing so will not only give you a chance to say something, but it will allow those playing it to honestly listen.

The tortured artist is as popular a stereotype as that of a starving one. Behind the eyes or voice of many great and influential creators you could see an honest discontent for their work. You could tell they were never really pleased with their creation, no matter how much the rest of the world loved it. That torture was their passion to be great and the realization that no matter how hard they pushed towards it, the execution would never reach the intent.

Execution not matching intent is something every artist and game developer struggles with, so you would expect there to be no shortage of tortured artist syndrome. But as I meet more animators and game devs, the continued, quiet discontent isn’t there. In fact, most people often wear their creations, occupation and accomplishments with an eager enthusiasm, replacing creative pain with artistic acceptance. Maybe it is cultural. Or maybe it has something to do with a lot of the mistakes made while working on their creation being lost to the ether thanks to everyone’s favorite friend, CTRL + Z. But considering how prolific tortured artists have been in other fields, is this another key towards unlocking complete artistic acceptance for game development?

"For a long time now I have tried simply to write the best I can. Sometimes I have good luck and write better than I can." -Ernest Hemingway

When I began to really study art, the idea of being an overly critical/borderline tortured artist was ingrained early into my psyche. The mantra of, “The minute you are satisfied with you art is the minute you need to quit” is one I still hold onto. That sense of continual yearning to improve one’s craft is something I believe to be essential to any successful artist. It is one of the things that makes art so magical. The variety of topics, skills, and knowledge you must possess to craft something of meaning is a well that can never run dry. And it is easy to be overwhelmed by the amount you don’t know, what you knew at one time but have forgotten, or what you now take as second nature. That is what makes the idea of artistic confidence such a delicate balance. And that balance is never more tenuous then when you make a wrong mark in paint, a sculpture cracks in the kiln, or improper light exposure ruins a whole roll of film.

But there is a fine line between humble, driven, and tortured. The first two are entirely necessary for an artist to be successful. But what about being tortured? It would appear to be the extreme in that or any other train of thought. But without tortured artists, many of our greatest artistic breakthroughs or achievements might not exist. They are the ones that continually struggle, never settle, and often times take risks to deliver their visions in an entirely new way. Their work is confrontational, unsettling, and highly provocative in a way that those working in the mainstream often look at warily.

So what happened to the tortured artist? I know we have impassioned advocates and independent creators working on some truly avant-garde games, but let’s look to the general pool of game devs and students. Why are many so happy go-lucky or just generally content with their latest creation when talking about them at large?

I know it goes deeper than just game development and is something that has become cultural, as the idea of hard work has been passed over by easy fame. It also can’t be helped by the fact that many schools continue to lower the standards of what is academically acceptable while promoting undo confidence. Add in all the social media designed for self promotion, and it is easy to see why humility or a strong sense of personal conviction could be lacking.

But as game developers, we can’t entirely escape any of those factors and have additional factors to deal with. A game’s success is often times wrapped up in its marketing, and to speak or lament on your creative failures is not allowed, unless its being used to sell the sequel. In previous cycles it was a rarity for one person to even be able to focus on one skillset to a degree required of complete mastery. Add in the outside perceptions of game development, from detractors to fans to publishers, and its easy to see why tortured artist isn’t something that can really come about in this field. Being a tortured artist is almost a luxury, because it means you get to worry about nothing but your craft and message 24/7.

So how do we go about affording such a luxury? As game developer roles become more compartmentalized, the ability to really drill down past good enough towards truly spectacular can be a reality. With social media, it is possible to really show your passion, opinion and dedication to the craft beyond what is dictated by a production schedule. But ample amounts of creative energy is only half the answer. We need to be constantly aware of our failures, and not allow them to just disappear. It is easy to let the fake marketing praise or even real fan praise take over your imagination if you don’t have a reminder of how far off your execution was from your intent. We have adopted post mortem’s for a project, to evaluate where we went wrong. But what about your daily work load? Do you have anyway to judge that, or are you letting undo erase your mistakes? How much can we learn from those mistakes if we don’t have to fix them ourselves or are even reminded of  them?

Nothing reminds me of this like when I was doing hand drawn animation. After hours of staring into the glow of a light table, I would look up and take note of what I had gotten done. Next to me were two stacks of paper, one of drawings that were going to be captured on film, and one that contained the drawings that didn’t work. The pile of failed drawings always dwarfed those that were successful. By a lot. And while that felt like a swift kick to the gut at first, it also kept driving me to do better. The next day, I would try to have a smaller stack of failures, which would make me more mindful of the animation I was doing. All of that gave those failures weight and made the final creation that much more meaningful to me.

I know these are rose colored glasses I am wearing at the moment, and am reminded of such every time I sit down to draw something with a pencil and paper, and try to undo a line I’d just mistakenly laid down. Undo could in fact be one of the greatest inventions of our life time.

But the tool is only as powerful as those that wield it, and the idea of undo can be dangerous if it were to completely erase any consideration of our mistakes. So with that in mind, I came up with an idea on how to make us all a bit more tortured.

A few years ago a technical animator I was working with asked if I had any requests for scripts. I asked for a counter that logged how many time I used undo. He looked at me sideways and said I was crazy. I went into a diatribe that echoes this one, but he just said it didn’t make sense to spend work time on something not necessary to production. I’ve sense joked about the idea to other TA’s, often to the same results.

As I thought about this post, I put out a request to twitter for a maya phython scripter. John Neumann graciously answered the call and worked with my odd request to bring it to life. So if you yearn for a kick to the groin and have maya 2011 or later, here you go. Your very own Undo Counter.

You can now track how many times you had to use that digital eraser by leaving it open and constantly being stared in the face by your mistakes. Or you can wait until you finish a scene, at which point it will pop open and let your final count be known. Either way, there is no escaping its cold, honest truth. Whether you use it merely to temper your ego or succumb to complete torture, it is up to you.

My hope is that it causes everyone using it to think a little bit harder about the purpose and meaning of each action they take. Because once you get past the physical process of creation and into the mental/emotional process, is the moment you are working with true intent. And that intent is what should drive all artists, be it the happy or tortured variety. And it is what will keep us all from ever being content.

Being a true tortured artist isn’t in any form healthy. It goes well beyond passion and into some form of serious mental affliction. But in this world of excessive artistic egos and artistic contentedness, a little more torture and critical self reflection is something we could use.

** If you are in the market for a technical animator, you should talk to John. He was everything you can ask for: skilled, communicative, understanding and dedicated. Everything an animator looks for in a TA. **

While checking out some antique stores with my wife, I came across a cache of He-Man toys. After my initial glee, then shock that the memories of my youth are now apparently antique, I rummaged through the paint chipped plastic men looking to see if I could find some of my favorites. And as I did, I was amazed at how I could remember their names and how to work their kung-fu action grip mechanics, as if I had just been playing with them the day before.

My childhood rushed back in waves, which is saying a lot considering the walls of nostalgic figurines and past pop-culture icons that litter the shelves of every game studio I’ve ever worked at. Being around toys is common place. But being around their mechanics of play… well that seems to have been lost as I’ve grown up. The beat up play things have been traded for more expensive, highly detailed statues that you display proudly on your mantle. And while everything about the action figures were truly tactile, these new monuments are often times a very hands off affair.

As my wife and I moved on to the next aisle of antique dust collections, I couldn’t help but draw the parallels between toys and player vs. developer authorship. And while I love nothing more than animating something with a strong, scripted narrative, I began to realize my inner child was screaming out to just play on its own terms.

Standard Action Figures

These are the workhorse of action figures. You’ve got some arms, legs and a head either rubber banded or ball joint snapped onto a torso. You can crudely pose them within the set limits of the toys rig, but it’s more than enough to get across anything you would want. Points, punches, kicks, arms in the air, grabs, flips… they can communicate all the major verbs you need. And whether it’s a main character or some random red shirt, they all capable of the same actions. These are tools for pure imagination, and give just enough personality in their model to lay the ground work for whatever story or roll they need to fulfill. They often had some tacked on accessories, like helmets, weapons or armor, but those were quickly lost if they weren’t able to be firmly snapped onto the core of the figure.

These were also the first to get chipped, broken or lost since they were played with the hardest. But if that happened it just added to the play scenarios. If a character’s leg broke off from the torso, well now he is going to lose his leg in the story. If the paint was gouged off of a characters face, then those were scars of past battles. And if a toy went missing all together, then legends were told of its bravery.

Making a game like this toy is a scary and hard idea. It means giving complete authorship to the player, and building strong enough core systems as tools to allow free play, finding the right balance between too many restrictions and not enough rules . Then you need to make those core systems so much fun, that when something breaks or happens beyond the control of the creator, that the player wants to continue on and actively finds a way to make that potential disaster a personal victory.

And like those weapon accessories, we have to realize that unless a mechanic is able to be easily carried or snapped onto the core of game, the player is going to abandon them. Other wise the mechanic will feel as tacked on as a pizza shooter is on a ninja turtle.

Minecraft, Little Big Planet, Elder Scrolls, Just Cause 2. All of these games allow and even encourage the player to make the world and its characters their own. And it is what sets them apart from the more forgettable open world/sandbox games. They embrace and encourage the player to try and break or test the limits of what they can express within the confines of the game. This can actually allow the player to look past a lower visual fidelity or more stylized visual fidelity. In fact, that can often allow the player to project themselves into the world more, without too many developer authored details conflicting with the player’s imagination. In fact, adding a story to these can be a double edge sword, often times not matching the player’s actual actions even if they can nudge a player into finding new ways of using the mechanics.

Yes, player control and creation means you will get plenty of penis monsters, but that’s not new. These were also the toys that would be posed in the raciest of positions for a cheap laugh. Its just part of what comes with embracing the player’s authorship. If you have more to offer than a cheap laugh, they will move past that in due time.

Single Action Figures

These took the standard action figures, and added some sort of physical mechanic to the toy. Your kung-fu action grip if you will. Sure, you sacrificed some poseability but often times you could work around that easily enough because if done right, what that single action brought to the table could strengthen a slew of other play options.

Take for instance Ram Man. At first blush, he isn’t very poseable. In fact, he just stands there. But the magic comes from him being able to squash his legs into his body. Then, with a small switch on the back of his foot, you could spring him forward, ramming anyone who stood in front of him.

This simple feature blew me away. I could have him knock down enemies in a tactile way I hadn’t done before, with domino like effects. When he got smacked on the head, he would recoil and squash. The way those two options strengthened any scenario I had with him allowed me to get into his interactions on a deeper level than any of my standard figures. I was able to transfer my unique action to his, identifying with his specific character. And because this action fit in with his character’s personality and purpose, it didn’t come across as a gimmick.

But if his squash/stretch would malfunction, I was quickly ripped out of the experience, cursing whatever jammed up the works. Adding that function meant a giant disconnect if it didn’t work as promised.

Much as with the toys, games of this nature are the ones that I have had the deepest connection to. Mario Bros, Braid, Tetris, Portal. All have one major mechanic that they have distilled down to such an elegant manner that allows both the player and designer to develop deep, rewarding experiences. When both sides are intimately aware of the language and pieces used in completing a task, a real sense of personal attachment is inherited by both sides, and true player/designer communication is taking place.

But that mechanic must be flawless to have so much hanging on it. When it is only half thought out, half functioning, an obvious gimmick or poorly implemented into the play space, the player will turn away faster than if something is broken in an open world game. There, if something isn’t at its best, there are other options to turn to, so the player can forget about the action that isn’t working. But with a single action game, if it malfunctions or doesn’t operate as promised, the player is instantly ripped out of the experience.

Starting this type of single action game can be pretty easy. It doesn’t require a lot of inputs, you can get it up and running fairly quickly and the initial in game challenges are almost instantly devised. But it takes a fair amount of time to dig down deeper. What makes that mechanic work? Is it compelling enough to be the single action of the game? How far can you push and polish it? Is it capable of having any paradigm shifts? That is what makes the difference between a cookie cutter game and a trend setter in the single action genre.

Non Action Figures

It would be easy to say McFarlane toys started this trend, but Army Men are in the same boat. Either posed or modeled in a static yet expressively detailed manner, these were always big on the initial wow factor, but quickly became that toy that just sits on the side until you need it for that one thing it does. But boy did it do it well. Its stern gun point, death scream, or heroic uppercuts were second to none. But just don’t ask it to do anything else. If you do it will either break the toy or your imaginative narrative rather quickly when it rigidly holds to its pose.

These are the heavily scripted, quick time event gameplay experiences. They are pretty, they are over the top, they grab you instantly and make the commercials and gameplay reels of everyone involved. And as long as you do exactly what is intended of them, you will be rewarded with satisfaction. When done well, you won’t even notice the fact that they are holding your hand, keeping you in the trolley towards exactly where they want you to go. But if you try to break free, or play them again, you will quickly notice where the polish and intent stops, which will quickly end the two way conversation between designer and player.

Call of Duty: Black Ops is a perfect example of this type of gameplay. Its first mission, set in Cuba, is so deftly scripted that while most players actively participated in the action, they didn’t even realize or care that they weren’t really driving it. And while that may infuriate a lot of game purists, until the player tries to jump the rails, it is certainly immersive and successful in capturing the imagination of players around the world.

Considering the amount of people who love or marvel over beautifully rendered statues that are proudly displayed on desks, coupled with the rare chance to polish the art to the closest we have come to film yet, it is easy to see why publishers, developers and players alike flock to these games. And as time goes on, everyone will realize, like those statues, they are fun to look at, but just be careful not to use them in an unintended way.

Everyone has their favorite toys growing up, same as everyone has their favorite games now. To say that one type of game is any more valid than another is to say He-Man is better than Transformers. Everyone will have their favorites and specific tastes at different moments in their life. What’s important is taking our experiences from those childhood play things, what we liked about them, and what we didn’t, and use those in the games we make today. It validates all those toys we still have around now and all those times we clung to them in the past. Even when we were “too old” to be doing so.

Two places of player interaction that we can influence as animators that we typically gloss over are transitional animations and input controls. Those two moments are when the player and the digital character speak to one another on a core level and can really be felt by the player if paid attention to.

Transitional Animations

Let’s get this out of the way upfront. When handed a list of transitional animations to work on, animators get a little bummed out. Idle to walk turn 45 degrees left makes the eyes of every animator glaze over and their internet browsers instantly open hulu as they spit out another purely functional yet bland animation so that they can get to something more exciting to work on. But those transitions are the moment when a character has made a decision, or is in the process of making a decision on where they want to go next and what they want to do. And thought process is something that wets the lips of every animator out there. Thinking and decision making is what drives a character’s performance, which is something every animator wants more of in games. So what can we do to make those more exciting for us to work on and the player to feel their importance beyond just serving to rotate the character?

“It is not necessary for an animator to take a character to one point, complete that action completely, and then turn to the following action as if he had never given it a thought until after completing the first action. When a character knows what he is going to do he doesn’t have to stop before each individual action and think to do it. He has it planned in advance in his mind.” – Walt Disney

We start by how we should start with every animation. What is the character’s purpose, personality and goals? If they are headstrong and brash, they wouldn’t worry about looking first to where they are turning, they would just turn assuredly knowing that wherever they end up pointing, that is where they will go. Or if they are mousy or scared, they would look first, then turn more slowly, not necessarily ready to commit to the action. Think about a character’s acting patterns and how those transitions allow you to flow from one action to another. Maybe when a character is walking it signals a different emotion than when they are running. The transition is what will sell that emotional change. Think about which body part leads their actions, be it the head, the chest, arm or leg making each character visually feel as if their driving core comes from a different place than the last. Transitions are also when a character is anticipating what they are about to do next, and anticipation is something game design thrives on even if as animators we often have to sacrifice an action’s anticipation in an effort to speed things up. But transitions are pure anticipation of what is about to happen next, so relish in it! You can also use transitions as a take, to help add comedic or dramatic beats to what is happening. If instead of having the enemy simply turn at you to shoot, he first looks, does a double take, then quickly whips around gun blazing, it will feel noticeably different than when a superior officer notices you and quickly and precisely turns and pops off a couple controlled shots as he settles into position. Both serve the gameplay and character’s narrative, which is what draws both the player and us as animators into a performance.

I know we don’t get a lot of frames to actually turn a character, and as always, it has to be responsive. But for NPC’s especially, we as a whole should spend more time on transitional animations. Making those believable and emotive will go a long way towards making more fully realized characters for the player to interact with.

Player Input

The buttons and commands the player inputs are the moments when they get to directly speak to the game. That is the moment they are communicating with characters in the game, both those they are controlling and those they are interacting with. Often times, it is the designers or programmers thinking actively about what those input commands will be, but when you start to think with an animator’s knack of performance and personality, there is a world of possibilities that we can use to help push the emotional feel of that conversation.

How the player interacts with the controller, and how those movements are input can be deeply carried over into the personality and performance of the character on the screen. The press of a button or choice of a specific command is the anticipation for what is about to happen. The feel of the trigger buttons differs from how the press of a face button feels. Using the thumb stick as a button press has always made me feel a unique blend of clumsiness and awe.  Using those tactile responses, along with how long the player should hold them, or tap them, can affect the player’s mood and as such should affect the characters on the screen if we really want to craft a deeper conversation between player and game. Even something as simple as whether an action happens on button press or button release can dramatically change how the player feels, and can signal deep character traits in the character in the game.

Since we were already talking about how to build stronger transitional animations, let’s start with using player input as another layer towards making those stronger. Imagine coupling a transitional animation to match the speed at which a player is pressing in the direction they wish to turn. If they are slowly pushing in a direction, the transition is a more tentative look to move than if they quickly jammed the thumb stick. Often times blending is used for these, and for some games that may be enough, but for suspenseful, character driven narratives, this would go a long way towards feeling a part of the scene and deeply connecting the player with the character they are playing.

Street Fighter is a great example of control inputs matching the characters personalities on many of their most recognizable figures. Ryu is meant to be a controlled personality, with his emotions kept in check leading a life of modest means. His moves and fight style reflect this with clean and simple sweeping motions that work best when the player is conscious of his opponent to calmly react and control the space. He also has a relatively small list of special moves, but each are incredibly capable. Now think of Akuma, a more powerful, evil and demented version of Ryu. He shares the same core moves of Ryu, but has the addition of a few more meant to help press the fight forward and stay on top of his opponent. And those few extra moves that actually require the player to press forward motions on the stick, violently thrusting him towards the enemy, resonates to speak to his dominating spirit. Then there is Blanka, who is meant to be wild and has a move that actively requires the player to abandon everything except hammering violently on one button. That electric feeling comes through the kinetic press of the buttons, and matches perfectly with his appearance and character. Balrog is meant to be a violent, brutish boxer. When you think of boxing you think of lots of blocking and then powerful punches that capitalize on any opening that is given. And the commands of the player match that perfectly, requiring them to turtle up for a second, holding back to block, only to quickly push forward to do an all or nothing heavy punch. Zangief if a showy, brash wrestler and his input commands of large circular commands matches that. All of these characters are instantly recognizable in personality, appearance and play style and it is no coincidence that players are so attached to their favorite. What the player is doing to the controller matches on multiple levels to what the character is doing on the screen.

The next time you are animating or designing a character, take the time to imagine their thought process and personality on more than just the fun, exciting actions. Think about those transitional animations and then what button or command the player will be using to propel the characters action. Doing so will allow a level of communication and understanding to blossom between the player and the game that will help push the level of emotional investment that both gamers and developers yearn for. It will also help to define our skills beyond just mimicking what our film brethren do oh so well in an exciting way we can call our own.

Astronauts at play. Maybe only one of a few jobs cooler than ours.

Donald Pettit is an astronaut who spent some time on the International Space Station. As the story goes, during his free time he would conduct demonstrations he called “Saturday Morning Science.” It was his chance to just play around with a childlike curiosity in a zero gravity environment. One of his playtime experiments was to put salt, sugar and coffee grounds into a plastic bag. His plan then was to shake the bag and see what happened. The result was an answer to a question that had stumped the scientific community for decades. Essentially, he solved the riddle as to how planets were able to form from dust. Just playing around, he was able to come up with an answer that serious thought and study had been blanking on.

Some would call this dumb or blind luck. But I say it was neither dumb or blind. He was a chemical engineer on top of being an astronaut, so even though he was playing around, his toys were actually scientific tools in his trained hands. And because he was recording his fun, he was allowing the results to be seen and studied by countless scientists. So nothing about this luck was dumb or blind. He was playing with a purpose. And that play mentality freed him to really experiment with an energy and curiosity that can often times be restrained when we think about it too much.

My favorite moments when working on a game or animation at work tend to follow suit with this story. I’ve got a task at hand, but also the luxury of time or freedom to just take the tools I am trained to use, and play around with them. Yes, I have a final goal or purpose in mind, but the parts in the middle and the exact results aren’t set in stone. Those are the times when I just get to cut loose and have fun. In animation terms, this is called the straight ahead method and it can entirely be applied to game development.

One example of this was when I was working on Wolfenstein. I was tasked by design to quickly have the assassin character jump down from a walkway above and settle into his idle. The plan then was to have his AI take over to play one of his stab attacks on an NPC and disappear in a puff of smoke. An easy enough request, but I knew it was going to look bland at best and downright clunky at worst. Seeing the environment of the room, with cabinets, pipes, and pillars, I instantly saw a chance to do more. I requested the full day to block something out that would be a little more elaborate. If they didn’t like it, I could quickly cut off everything after the jump down and still give them what they needed, but I let them know I had a cooler idea in mind. I made sure my extended animation could still deliver the initial request and gave myself a goal to hit. Both play and purpose were in place.

I studied the environment for a bit, saw the elements I most wanted the assassin character to interact with, and just went to it. I didn’t think too much about what he was going to do once he got there, I just let my mind and hands play with my most favorite of tools. After a few hours, I had it all blocked out and everyone excitedly agreed this was the direction to go. I knew for sure I was on the right track when co-workers would stop by my desk because someone told them I was working on something cool. And I was reminded again when a trailer for the character highlighted the animation multiple times throughout. Sure, I didn’t solve a 40 year old scientific mystery with my purposeful play, but I did have a ton of fun. And I turned a run of the mill encounter into a showcase moment for the character.

Wolfenstein Assassin Animation

Just recently at work we were experimenting with different methods of movement for a character in our game. Instantly I remembered the fun I had moving the assassin through a random environment. So I created some blocks of random shapes and sizes in maya, and littered the space with them. I then set out with the goal of moving the character from the beginning to the end of this abstract obstacle course in the most fun method I could think of. Again, once I had people stopping by to see what cool thing I was up to, I knew I was onto something. I had found my own personal “Saturday Morning Science.”

Playing with purpose isn’t a new idea. Most of the best games we make center around this idea. Give the player the tools, the proper training to use them, a goal, and then let them figure out how to get there. When they do, not only will they have had fun, but they will feel a sense of accomplishment. Fun and a sense of accomplishment are two big reasons I got into games, and my guess is that is also same with a lot of you.

So the next time you tell someone you make games and they ask if that means you play them all day, smile and say yes. Because if you are doing it right, you will be having some of the most fun of your career I bet. And you will also be sharing the company of an astronaut. Sounds like the best thing ever if you ask me.

Take that in for a moment.

Essentially, the chief creative ninja at Ninja Theory and designer of Enslaved, said that giving life to characters is not possible by anything other than mocap. Now, I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt, since the finished product, Enslaved, obviously and expertly used animators to clean, augment and craft the final performance of each character. And surely he has seen a game or at least a film that has used keyframe or puppeteering that either made him feel emotionally connected to the character or at least made him believe they were feeling such an emotion. That quote MUST have been out of context or been said in a moment of amnesia. Certainly he has seen the amount of work the animators must do to wade through the visual mocap data, finding the best takes to clean, cut, add and push to create the final performance.

Sorry Incredibles. I'm just not feeling it like I am with The Hanks.

Originally, this entire post was going to be championing keyframe over mocap. A good old fashion rant, about the general lack of respect or misunderstanding of what animators do to make mocap performances work and the amount of keyframe that still goes on with the best mocap performances, was building up inside me. In fact, unable to control my rage and wait until this post to retort, I commented on the article. I know, I know. That’s just throwing rocks at the hornet’s nest. So when I was called insecure I wasn’t surprised, though I realized just how entrenched everyone from animator, to producer, to consumer is on what their perceived realities are of the process. Thankfully Richard Baneham, animation director on Avatar, has much more experience and clout than I, so I can stop declaring my cat better than their dog and let him preach to the masses. I don’t expect this to end the debate (sorry Brad) or even reach the ears of the people that are perpetrating the myths, but to anyone interested in the best practices of mocap cleanup he sure makes a great stump speech. Though his interview did force me to rethink about how I was going to say something of my own in this post.

So I stepped back and quickly noticed how this mindset of technology being the silver bullet for creating living, breathing characters is something that permeates all facets of this industry. Chris Hecker recently tweeted “Two different takes on ‘next gen’: Unreal Tech GDC Demo and The Last Guardian GDC Interview.” Just like that, Chris was showing, not telling, what many people in the industry feel. Personally, I think there are some great visual and cinematic elements going on in Unreal’s recent video, and it is obvious there are some top class artists working on it. But seeing anything from The Last Guardian instantly tugs at my soul in a way no cutting edge rendering tech can. Both employ great artists and great tech, but Guardian seems to have something more to say. Granted, one is a tech demo and the other is a game that has been in development for years. But regardless, there is more of a human element in The Last Guardian. (Which I’m pretty sure no bird/rat/cat creature was available for mocap, yet it certainly has eye movements and expressions that deeply connect with me. *Ahem*)

Don't give me that look creature. I'll stop with the snark. Promise.

But even that topic, the idea of the human element vs the computer element doesn’t seem to scratch the core of what is really happening. The need to draw lines runs much deeper than that in this industry. The idea of us versus them is something that has fueled games since their inception. Having an art form that revolves around goals and competition will breed that I suppose. And while it can help to sell consoles, it is much more systemic than just marketing. Brenda Brathwaite’s recent rant at GDC talks about how every generation of game maker seems to decry the inherent evil of what is taking hold next. So again, I will let someone with far more experience and clout say what I would have just tried to say myself.

So where does that leave me? Mocap and keyframe is misunderstood and mislabeled. As is what is truely next gen. Hell, even what is a viable platform for games can’t be decided upon. Should I try to help find a definition that we can all stick to for these? Should I pick up the flag that I see as the most honest and help fly that higher than the others?

Probably wouldn’t do any good.

Film has been dealing with all of this longer than us, and you still get James Cameron saying in regards to Avatar that “the thing that people need to keep very strongly in mind is that this is not an animated film.” And he has Richard Baneham by his side to set him straight. The term art itself is debated ad nauseam, so what hope do we have of setting the record universally straight on what we do?

No, all I can do is speak honestly about what I know, and respect what I don’t know enough to say it is the people, not the technology, driving the success of the creation. That might not be as sexy, and probably won’t grab as many headlines or become the topic of blogs around the world the same as if I said something sensational about how we now have the BFG-9000 to slay any uncanny valley beast. But that’s fine, because what I will have is the chance to create something that will say everything that needs to be said. Because that is why I make games. I want to create an experience that says something to the person playing it. However or whatever they are playing it on. All the while respecting the the player’s abilities, and the abilities of everyone that developed it. I have an inherent belief that no matter how good the tech is, if you don’t have someone using it that connects to the player, it is worthless. But I don’t for a second under value the person who loves creating the tech and tools that they believe are what define this industry. Their work drives what my art is visually capable of. I just hope, in turn, they don’t undervalue what I do to take that tech and drive what the game is emotionally capable of. Being part of #AltDevBlogADay, surrounded mostly by programmers, I know I’m on the right path. I may not understand 99% of what is on this site, but I sure respect the hell out of everyone that posts here. And they haven’t kicked me out of the club yet.

So I’ll sign off in the same way I’ve spent much of this post. Allowing someone much wiser say what I’m already thinking, as well as getting out that last little bit of snark I have left.

“Stop fucking putting things in boxes.” – Richard Baneham

But to everyone else listening, all they hear is, “My cat is better than your dog.”

I’m not saying these discussions are pointless. Far from it. They point out the flaws and shortcomings in different workflows which ultimately make you fix them or re-examine how you work. And that is amazing. But the chances of getting someone to switch sides is about as likely as convincing a dog person to give up their hound for a cat. It won’t happen. There is a personal attachment to workflows and a level of investment that is almost impossible to breach. It starts by learning how to do what it is you love in that program and then builds through years of learning how to deal with its quirks and shortcuts it becomes a part of your family. You grow comfortable, knowing what it consistently can and can’t do, to the point that if it craps on your foot you can just bear it and grin. And if anyone dares to point out that something else might be better, it’s only natural to get defensive. Or point out the flaws in THEIR method of choice to make yours look better. Maybe animators get worked up over this more than others. It could be that software packages are one of the few things animators have control over in game development and as such take it so seriously. But when you step back and see that all programs do the same thing, but with just different pros and cons, you begin to realize that what you both really want is the same. The ability to create something you love.

And that got me thinking. When was the last time I got as heated up with another animator or developer about something in the game we were making? I know I have done it but was I as critical and honest as when I was ranting about a random piece of licensed software? Many a times I’ve gone on about how not having a graph editor is akin to making me animate with one hand tied behind my back. I know I have certainly used that critical and brutally honest eye when playing OTHER people’s games, getting angry about why a camera randomly switches from 1^st person to 3^rd person between cinematics and how that breaks the player’s narrative. But I can’t honestly say I have always gone to the same lengths on a feature in my own games as often. I will point something out or go on small diatribes, sometimes to someone that can fix it, often times just to another animator, and then just assume the person working on it will take care of it. Because SURELY they must see its shortcomings and it isn’t a finished product yet, so there is time to fix it. I’m always of the mindset that everyone I work with is more qualified at their job than I am, because I can’t do what they do. And that means it MUST be harder than what I do, so they must be smarter. And there are still months left to fix it, so it’s going to be fine. Software packages and other games are finished products after all so it’s easier to say, “WHOOPS! That is just WRONG?!” Beyond all that, as an animator in games, my voice is silenced very quickly by programmers or designers saying something can’t be done for a variety of reasons, be it technical or gameplay related. Animation is a service industry in games, and the chance to be a DIVA as you might be afforded in films is not going to happen. Nor should it. Film is about story and animated performances are what drive it. That means you get the spotlight. Games are about gameplay, which means animation is there to serve it, not direct it.

And that is the point I have to slap myself. All of those are just excuses that allow me to pull my punches at work, because I know the people around me personally and have to interact with them on a daily basis. And while I should be MORE honest with them, I end up giving them a lot of leeway because of all those factors I listed above. But worst of all, I’m giving myself leeway to cop out. And as far as I am concerned, that is a cardinal sin of game development.

So how do I fix this? Well, first step is to always attach that critical eye I love using on other people’s products onto my own teams. Whenever I see something that looks wrong, I’ll make a note of it. Whenever I work on anything, I will make sure I understand the core of what is needed. Any task I am given I will talk one on one to the person who requested it and make sure we are working together to make the most unique and compelling animation possible. Any character I am animating I will make sure I know their unique voice or find it if none already exists. And for everything, not just assume that someone else sees a problem. But the biggest help is instead of just complaining to another animator that the story doesn’t make sense at this point, that the characters personalities are interchangeable, or that the moment to moment gameplay in this certain area is boring, I will tell it to someone who can fix it.

And you know what, when you start doing it, and it works, it feels great. When you can point to moments in your game that are now successful when before they were weak, well that is just about one of the greatest feelings you can have. It is something you can take real pride in.

Yes, these were all things we already do to varying degrees and should come rather naturally to anyone in this industry. But it changes from project to project and studio to studio. Some team cultures have this naturally built into their workflow, and others require you to push a little harder to be heard. But just make sure it exists in some form, because if it doesn’t, then you probably need to get out.

Ultimately the one thing I will ALWAYS do from now on, is when I feel myself getting locked into a debate about whether my cat is better than another animators dog, is redirect that focus and conversation towards something that can actually be seen and felt by the player. Because all that matters to them is what we are making, not what we are making it with. So I’m just going to do what we can ALL benefit from; making something as memorable and cherished as my cat. Or your dog.

Get out.

If your answer to a problem is always, “I don’t care” or “That sounds too hard” then just get out. If every time someone comes to you excited about an idea, and you always find a way to shoot it down, get out. If you are content to just keep pushing out the same thing forever and do only the bare minimum, get out. If you are afraid to go somewhere else or stick your neck out for a good cause, get out. If you are combative anytime someone points out a flaw in your plan, gather your belongings and get out. If you believe your job is just one step removed from being an electrical engineer* then get out. If you think that having a story or believable characters is no more important to games than they are in pornos** get out. All of you just get out and stop making games.

Still around? You didn’t get out?! Well, fine. If you took offense to any of that, GOOD! It means you still care. I know, I’m as shocked as you are. But that’s great, because it means you don’t have to get out! You just have to find that spark that just crackled to life there and start using it again! But it doesn’t stop there. Once you have turned that spark into a fire, use that positive energy to help others find their spark. It’s not easy, but if you wanted to take the easy way out, you would have gotten out when I or the Bieber said to.

Now some of this might come off as naïve, and in another five years when my 10 year veteran self looks back on my five year self, I might blush a bit. But I certainly won’t apologize, because it meant that I cared damnit. And since you cared enough to become defensive, or even agree with me, it means we are where we should be. But guess what, so are all those people that should probably get out. SO, what are we going to do about that?

Well, I am sure we can both come up with some rather inventive ways of getting rid of them. But ultimately, we are game developers and not master assassins or heartless business execs who take pleasure in handing out pink slips. We are excited and passionate Artistes! And that is the solution. Excitement is contagious and our most valuable possession as creatives. That excitement is something all the curmudgeons had at one point, even if its covered in cobwebs and crust now. Yes, they still have it! They have just taken what little is left for making games and built a fortress around it. After years of having their light go dim, they shut down everything but the essential systems to keep it from going dark. So let’s jump start those systems, because then you can feed off of each others energy.

Next time you are challenged, take it on. Especially if it sounds really hard or it is something new. I’m not saying be unreasonable, but if you are saying no just because it might take a little more work than something you have done a million times before, accept the task! That challenge is going to get your brain thinking again, which gets you invested in solving the problem and actually CARING about what you do again. If you have something you feel passionate about, but you run into someone who always dumps on a challenge, just do it anyway. Deliver them the assets so that they have an opportunity to rise to the challenge. Show them the potential, give them the pieces, and set them up for success. Because if they can see that the challenge has a good shot of paying off, they are going to be more willing to jump. Or at least they may do it because they then assume, at that point, it is what is required of them. And just meeting requirements is what gets the apathetic through their day. If you work with someone who isn’t passionate about the characters, world, story, or design of the game you are working on, try and find out what DOES excite them. Another game, a book, a movie, a sport. Find out what gets them going and get them talking about it. Then ask them what those have that your game is missing. And BINGO, that is the moment! The moment they invest their interest into the personality and purpose of the game again. And investing themselves is what they have been so afraid to do.

None of this is easy. And it isn’t fair that its up to us to get them to do what they should be motivated enough to do on their own. It is quite like entering a relationship with someone that has been emotionally abused. They are going to be slow to trust, and who can blame them. But you can do it, because you care. And the more people you get to care, the easier it becomes. Soon enough, you will have a passionate posse and all your effort will be rewarded with a game and company culture you can be proud of!

But be careful. Some people might be too far gone to save. It’s sad, but sometimes your excitement alone can’t sway them. And if they are in a position of influence over the company’s culture, they can actually sap your excitement, turning you into the type of husk you despise. In that case, you might very well only have one option.

Get out.

Get out of there because maintaining your own excitement is essential to your longevity in this industry. Get out of that putrid environment and find a place where your passion and creativity can flourish. Those places exist and you deserve to be a part of it. You can find a place where you won’t be the sole candle in the darkness, but the lightbulb in a string of many that work together to keep each other bright. Find a team where everyone wants to be excited and challenged, because that is how you will create something that makes people stop to take notice.

Making games is hard enough when everyone on the team is excited about what you are creating. Making them when you and especially those around you are checked out is cruel and unusual punishment. So when it comes to that point. Just remember…

Get out.

Love,

Mike

* An actual quote I heard from a senior developer I worked with

** Another quote from another senior developer at the same studio. Guess what I did. I got out of there. And it has been glorious.

My fear and distrust of technology started immediately.I went to school for hand drawn, “traditional” animation, forsaking the computer as an impure method of crafting such a magical art.2d animation versus 3d animation was (is?) all the rage while I was in school, as many believed the influx of 3d KILLED 2d, and that to even THINK about trying computer animation was to sacrifice your warm, organic heart for a cold, lifeless toaster.

Though once graduating, the reality of just wanting to animate instead of working at Radio Shack quickly tempers such hostility towards method.So by the time I finally realized learning how to animate in a 3d medium was necessary to find work, I just kept telling myself I had to make peace with it.But then a funny thing happened.I fell in LOVE with computer animation.I was no longer held back by my drawing ability or the time it took to process each drawing to finally see my character come to life.I could quickly add subtlety to facial expressions and held moments that breathed a sense of life into my creation more than I ever felt I could before.And ultimately, it was the same thing I was doing when was slaving over the drawing board.I was creating movement and life by my own hands, just with different tools.And by the time I was putting a reel together to find work, adding any of my hand drawn animation didn’t even enter my mind.

So fast forward through the job hunt, the job interviews, my first studio, learning how game animation varied from film, shipping my first game, then leaving my first studio for my second and you will find me excitedly animating The Incredible Hulk.Everyday I got to go to work creating over the top animations of a giant green monster smashing other brightly colored creatures.And after two years of hand keying animations in games, I was getting pretty comfortable with my skills.Sure, I still had a lot to learn, but I was as adapt with a mouse and keyboard as I ever was with a pencil and paper.But of course, comfort and technology are always at odds.It was getting towards the end of the project, and there was still the little issue of 30 minutes of cinemas that needed to be done.And as much as every animator at the studio would have LOVED to hand key every one of those 30 minutes with an attention and love it deserved, the deadline meant that wasn’t going to happen.So it was decided by those leading the project that we were going to use mocap.

And there it was.The first shot in the next animation war I was about to be drafted into.

I had heard of other animator’s war stories about their experience with motion capture.Most complained about how constrictive it was, having a key on every frame and no easy way to adjust timing without losing the subtlety of the motion.But the biggest issue was that the animation wasn’t yours.It was the director’s intent with an actor’s movement.By the time the animator got it, they were just meant to be a faceless drone that smoothed it all out, added some finger movement and copied the facial animation from the video of the actor.And that is the opposite of what an animator wants to do.We got into the field to create performances and feelings of emotion that are real to anyone that sees them.We are the actors, we are the directors.We are not the janitors of other people’s movements and performances.

So, with all those thoughts running in my mind, I am given my first cinematic with mocap.And instantly, all those horror stories came true.Without a mocap studio of our own, it had to be done offsite, many states away.That meant that only a couple people could go to interact with and direct the actors.Not having the tools to process or experience to clean up much of the data, everything was first outsourced to another studio.But as with any outsourcing, what you get back isn’t going to be able to go right into the game, so even when the cinematics were delivered, we still had to touch them up and get them into the engine.Our custom rigs and tools were not made with mocap in mind, so our workflow took a real hit.It was a nightmare and everyday I swore that I would never work with mocap. Ever. Again.The war of key framed vs mocap was on, and I felt stronger about it than I had about 2d vs 3d.Probably because this directly affected how the rest of my career was going to play out.Mocap was a dirty skinjob!

But again, life has a way of finding ways to challenge those convictions.I was on the search for a new studio to hang my hat, and the one I was most interested in was heavily invested in mocap.To the point they had their own motion capture space.And while I was initially being brought on to do key framed animation, I knew I would have to deal with mocap.But be it hubris or just general excitement for the studio, I accepted.And when it came time to work with mocap data, I braced for the worst.Then surprising thing happened.What I found was that it wasn’t as bad.Mind you, it still sucked.I was having to clean up someone just talking in front of a table, and neither the performance, movement or direction were ones I felt any form of connection to.But at least this time there were tools in place and I knew if something wasn’t working, it could be recaptured quickly or I could talk about the intent of the performance with the director or actor.It also fit the characters and the world better than in a superhero game.So both visually and work flow wise it made sense.So I dealt with it as the majority of my time was still key framing creatures and just generally awesome stuff.I was comfortable and content, so of course mocap had to find a new method of attack.

As that project was wrapping up, I was moved to another game with another team and lead animator.And quickly my day to day work was ONLY dealing with mocap data.And what was worse, it was just taking files from an excel list, with no interaction between the director or actor what so ever.Sure, the tools were better than what I had on Hulk, but this felt just as soul crushing.My connection to the characters was non-existent and I am sure that was felt in every asset I checked in.Mocap had fired back, and it was a critical shot.So, when I again switched teams and leads, I felt like I was being medevaced to safety.And now I was part of a resistance to fight back!When my new lead said he didn’t care if we used mocap or key frame, just as long as we got the work done to the proper standard, I gave mocap the middle finger.I was going to do nothing but key frame, and my time with mocap was all but a distant memory.

But as is always the case, deadlines started to loom.And the need for mocap to get everything done became apparent.But this time, it came with a caveat.If we were going to use it, each animator was able to direct the actors.So even if we couldn’t animate it, we could still get the performance we wanted.While I figured this was mostly just a consolation prize after having my precious key frame taken away, I was on board to try my hand at directing, if for nothing other than the experience.Plus, directing actually sounded like it might be kinda fun.There was a glimmer of hope.

The first time I directed mocap, it was awkward.I wasn’t sure where I should stand, who I should talk to, how physically involved I should get with the actors, how MUCH direction I should give them, and when I was asking too much of them.I actually left that first session with a new level of dread for all things mocap.I had all but written off any sense of fun with the mocap process.But then I was delivered the data to be cleaned up.And at that moment I realized what I had always hated about mocap: the lack of ownership.Sure, the motions weren’t 100% dictated by me, but the intent was.The performance was what I would have done had I hand keyed it, and now I just got to go in and push the timing, and the poses.And that was enough to keep me going back to each session, willing to invest myself more and more into the mocap experience.By the end of the project, I was looking forward to directing the actors more than anything else I was involved with.

As that project wrapped, and we started to do R&D on the next, it was decided the art style was going to be less realistic and more stylized.You know, the type of thing animators dream about.We had visions of key frame animation and cup cakes dancing in our heads.But I had a nagging feeling that we would be missing out on an opportunity if we didn’t use mocap.The reality is, as games require more animation, the ability to keyframe all of them becomes harder and harder.And in all honesty, keying idles, turns and the sort aren’t the most fun.So I decided to work with the mocap department to try and come up with a method to integrate it with a more keyframe sensibility.The rest of the animators on the team weren’t too excited about the prospect, but since it was just R&D, and there hadn’t been much success before, I don’t think they worried much that anything would come of it.

Before we captured anything, I sat down to identify what the biggest issues the team had with mocap.At this point, I was done fighting the war, and wanted to come up with a treaty.

1. The team did not like MotionBuilder, which was the defacto mocap program.They were comfortable with 3ds Max Character Studio and wanted that as the only program we had to use.
2. Quick delivery of the solved data was needed so that the animators could jump right into the editing process.
3. Proof of concept was needed that something stylized could be created, in essence not making it look like mocap, faster than just hand keying it.
4. That complete ownership could be felt with the final product.We needed to be able to say, this is my animation from beginning to end.

The first two points were largely out of my hand.We had a mocap department that handled all the tech, and up until this point solving quickly to character studio biped had been an issue.But thankfully when they looked into it again, they found with newer versions a lot of the kinks had been worked out and they could deliver as quickly as they had in previous pipelines.Problems 1 and 2 were quickly taken care of.That left 3 and 4 squarely on my shoulders.But this was the fun part, and was ultimately what I had wanted all along.

First step was to get to know the character, like we would with anything we animated.But the important part was getting the actor in on the research soon after I had an idea what I was looking for.As soon as I had some reference pictures, video, key frame tests, concept art and the model, I would sit down with them as I was scheduling the shoot.This gave them time to understand the character and start thinking about what was going to be needed.This also got us both talking about and explaining the purpose of each animation before anything was even recorded.By the time we did get into the studio space to record, we were both aware of what I wanted out of the character, and how we were going to do it.This allowed us to just get past the functional part of the animation and drill down to the personality, timing and emotion of the action.You know, the stuff us animators go gaga over.This also opened both myself as the director and the actor to experiment with different methods of expression in their performance.If the character is blind and meant to stumble around, we would have the actor keep their eyes closed, and put some cushions and mats throughout the space for them to bump into unknowingly.If they are meant to be a violent, loud character, getting them to scream violently would come more easily if they weren’t worried about just trying to remember the basics.And having spent all that time getting into character meant we were both comfortable physically interacting with one another when it came time to posing.And getting that emotion out of the actor comes through in the data.The way they hold them selves, and whether they are giving it their all or holding back can be seen when you put it onto your character in the game.And getting that performance out of the actor is incredibly rewarding as a director, because you are crafting a performance.And THAT is that true sense of ownership we had yearned for.

After that, editing the mocap to get something stylized was just a matter of playing around.I first key framed the action I wanted to get a time estimate that I could compare the mocap against.With that in place, I dove into editing process.It was at this point I realized that essentially what I was doing was capturing video reference of what I wanted to animate, but now had the ability to manipulate that reference freely and quickly.And while I am in no way a propionate of character studio or biped (maya custom rigs FTW!) I found my familiarity with the tools made for quick and easy mocap editing that was FUN!It became my sloppy joe moment.See, I don’t like ketchup or mustard on their own, but when you mix them together with some magic, it becomes a delicious sloppy joe.And in the case of max and mocap being ketchup and mustard, ownership was that magic ingredient.

And here is the moment I fell in love with mocap.

Keyframe Vs. Mocap Test

Sure, nothing revolutionary in the final product or the work method.But it was enough that at the end of the process, I was excited about the animation and proved that adding mocap into the workflow could personally pay off.I wasn’t saying we should use mocap for everything, just that we could benefit from using it where it excels: idles, walks, runs, transitions.It would give us the base that we could quickly push to fit out needs, and save us time, allowing us to really throw ourselves into the more elaborate, over the top animations we all love.The moment that I truly realized it was successful was when a couple days later a couple of the animators most against its use were in the mocap studio, by their own choice!The treaty had worked!Humans and Cylons were working together in harmony!

It took me five years to really believe what I had just said to make peace with my conscience when I first started down this career path.2d, 3d, keyframe or mocap doesn’t really matter.They are just tools and you don’t always get to choose which one you use.What you do get to choose is your involvement in each, because that is where you will find your happy place.