As is the standard of this series, we expand upon previous knowledge by perusing multiple examples of the aforementioned topic. That concept is extra important here, though; the previous two examples show very similar games with arguably conventional approaches. Darkest Dungeon’s main method of dragging you into the experience is based on the art, dialogue, and flavor of the world, in addition to gameplay. This is by no means a standard; some games can be all gameplay and no story and still get their target experience across. The most important thing to take out of this is the “focused vision” concept; the idea that anything that isn’t necessary for your idea need not even be in the game. With that in mind, let’s begin.

Absolute Drift: is a game purely about the pursuit of perfection. If you were asked to first drive a car and then play Absolute Drift, you would find that AD’s car handles like the worst incarnation of a car imaginable. Everything about driving and attempting to drift with that car is unreasonably difficult, but yet for good reason; AD is a game made specifically for the competitive gamer, using drifting as the gameplay focus. Nothing about the main campaign or unlocking levels is any degree of difficult; just do some simple puzzles that you have unlimited time to do, and you can unlock most of the game. The levels are mostly just sandboxes that require no points to be beaten, and any turns that are difficult to execute at high speed (which gives you the most points) are trivial if you’re just looking to pass the course. After you beat any level, it shows your high score, and also your percentile placement on the game’s leaderboards with that high score. That high score tease after each level is arguably ALL the game is about. Learning to drive the car is difficult, getting really high scores is difficult, navigating some of the later levels are difficult, but you can easily improve on all these things with time. AD is exactly that kind of game, where you find yourself retrying one level over and over again, because you *know* you can make that last turn flawlessly, and you won’t stop until you’ve finally pulled it off. All the extra time spent playing the game is all in the player’s pursuit of perfection, nothing more.

Undertale: a game made to show just how interactive storytelling in games can be. Undertale’s two greatest strengths are in the options it gives and in the continuity it adheres to. Every action by the player shapes the way they experience the story; some of these options are obvious in their outcome, but others are considerably more difficult to determine (and the player may be deliberately misinformed about them). So, in playing the game in whatever individual way you would, you are guaranteed to have entirely different encounters than that of other players. Continuity goes hand in hand with this, as the game remembers your actions and what occurs from them, and makes itself (and more importantly, its characters) react accordingly; and most importantly, not in an extremely obvious way. The way you would play the game would change if the game outright told you that it remembers what you do, so it is important that it is something the player has to “uncover”; both of these things require the player to treat their actions seriously, which makes the experience all that more effective. Because of the delicate and intricate way the game handles these things, in addition to the large range of gameplay options it gives, Undertale has become relatively well-known as the game where “you don’t have to fight anyone”; however, this isn’t quite right. Undertale is the epitome of a truly interactive story experience, as all your tiniest actions will be noted, and the game will change to reflect them. I could write a lot more about the depth to which this continuity is emphasized, but that’s not the point; Undertale isn’t just a lighthearted indie game that gives you the option to not fight, it’s a story-based indie game where your actions actually have meaning; more anecdotally, a game where you won’t want to fight anyone.

Besiege: a game about making stuff. In the developer’s own words, Besiege is a “physics based building game” about constructing siege machines. That is the entire game (in it’s current alpha state). The game has campaign levels where you have to build machines to accomplish certain tasks, but there are no barriers on what you can do and how you’re going to accomplish a task; it’s purely just a medieval siege physics sandbox, nothing more. The reason the game is on this list is due to the niche audience this game shares with all other games on this list; it speaks to crafty creative types, the type of people who would sink massive hours into some overly complicated contraption that the game’s physics supports. For that, the physics system is extremely impressive, and the art style/setting is cartoonish and appropriate, but nothing else about the game stands out; which is fine, because that’s all the game is. It just serves as a nice example of an unorthodox game that is accomplishes exactly what the dev team set out to do.

There are far more examples of indie games with targeted visions: Brothers, a Tale of Two Sons, as an example of game being constructed entirely around the concept of mechanics as metaphor. Journey and Knytt: Underground are both awesome examples of games purely about exploration, in the sense of exploring a vast and intricate environment that always has more for the player to explore if they’re willing to look for it. There’s a reason that developing a game with a targeted vision is becoming more commonplace; both in the previously-mentioned concept of focusing only on what you need, and on the focus it gives on the development side. Were you to set out with the goal of making a “cartoony medieval strategy game”, you would undoubtedly find difficulty in figuring out where to start, or what ideas to do, or even in trying to further define what the game “needs to be”. Focusing your work by making a game with a clear goal makes it far easier to plan out what is required, come up with ideas, vet unnecessary things, and recognize what parts of your game are good; your tried-and-true measuring stick for all those things is the reaction you’re trying to elicit from the player, and whether that matches up to the vision (something I personally learned the value of with Momentum). Developing a game with a goal in mind makes it easier, as all you have to do is figure out what you need to accomplish that goal.

 

In the previous two sections, we covered the differences between Triple-A games and Indie games in terms of scope, profit margins, and potential experience depth. Triple-A games have to be broad in order to maintain a wide profit margin, and Indie games have to be targeted in order to avoid overscoping for the manpower they have. These two categories compare perfectly with big-budget and indie movies. Big-budget blockbusters are usually action films, that are general and interesting enough to captivate a wide audience. Small-budget indie movies are allowed to push the envelope on how provocative they can be, in order to provide a more compelling story, but they also lose a part of their audience.

In both cases, however, the line is beginning to blur; as indie studios gain a reputation and fan backing, they can reliably bring on more people and obtain a higher budget they also gain the ability to increase the scope and range of what their games can be. Additionally, triple-a studios that gain enough of a fan backing can use this to gain more creative freedom, getting the ability to produce more focused games that will still sell well due their studio being a known name. These two genres are by no means binary; again, the same could be said of movies.

As previously mentioned, games have an edge over all other creative mediums when it comes to giving the player an experience. As the profession matures, the techniques, technology and design powering it will only become more honed with time. Cartoons and animated movies, in their infancy, were typically pointed at a juvenile audience, and were traditionally typecast as such for a long time; time has shown that the genre has shed off that previous association and exhibited not just their range of styles and audiences, but also the effort and dedication that is required to even create one. In this way, time will also show (if it has not already) the magnitude of effort required to create a video game, and the nearly infinite variety of games and experiences that can result from said effort.

When someone goes through a difficult time in their life, emotional or otherwise, it’s entirely normal for that person to adopt painting/reading/watching movies as a coping mechanism, under the pretense that subjecting one’s self to new experiences and stimuli would help solve or mitigate stress. Some books are rather well-known for their reputations in this regard; imagine, then, the day where someone under the same circumstances is recommended a game to play, for the same reason. One could easily argue that such a thing has already happened, and the only thing preventing it from being more common is gaming’s status as a “fledgling art medium”.

All other expressive mediums; art, writing, music, movies, etc.; are already critically acclaimed enough to be able to definitely teach people serious lessons, about life or otherwise. Games may not be at that stage yet, but when they get there, they will undoubtedly be the best at it.