previews for previews
that's right, folks, we now have trailers for trailers. what are these, meta-ads? meta-previews? meta-trailers? oh my.
.comment-link {margin-left:.6em;}
for anyone who plays (or like me, used to play) console RPGs, there's a really fun list of console RPG clichés, (via Ars Technica’s FF XII review). most of these are taken from Square and Square-Enix games, predominantly the Final Fantasy series (will there even be a final one?). it’s actually pretty amusing, as many of them are verbally described not as clichés but rather as mathematical theorems: the MacGyver Rule (you can use anything and everything as a weapon, including paintbrushes, dictionaries, and umbrellas), Zelda’s Axiom (if anyone tells you about “five magic crystals” you’ll have to track them all down), and Garrett’s Principle (you are somehow able to steal items from people’s houses right under their noses and it’s totally OK). these some pretty amusing observations to anyone who’s played these sorts of games.
however, I think they offer far more than just amusement potential. finding ways to break from these clichés could offer a unique resource for game design ideas. for example, the Law of Cartographical Equivalence states that “The world map always cleanly fits into a rectangular shape with no land masses that cross an edge.” this has always really bugged me. the beginning of Final Fantasy VII takes place entirely within the city of Midgar. during this portion, you don’t get any sort of over-arching map of the city. instead, you get the cognitive map you make for yourself while exploring the city. you get the sense that the world is full of intricate and complex detail. as soon as you leave the city, you get the standard, rectangular shaped world map. once the entire world fits in a neatly defined box, it doesn’t seem nearly as deep or expansive. according to the aforementioned Ars review, one of the changes in FF XII is doing away with the world map, apparently “something longtime FF fans have lamented.” I say, it’s about time, and the reviewer states that “FF XII has a more interesting, open, vibrant, and large world than FF titles with the overworld map.” breaking the cliché leads to new depth in the game.
another interesting one is the Setzer Rule, or Stop Your Life. in FF VI, Setzer is a gambler and ladies’ man who, when he joins up, apparently gives up his wild life of partying and hangs out on the airship when not in your active party. what if we were to violate this cliché, and allow characters to continue their lives outside the party? perhaps that character has adventures of their own that play into different plot paths. perhaps the character discovers a new item or technique that it may have taken hours of play time to come upon otherwise. perhaps the character decides that the player’s quest is for naught, and the player discovers upon his next visit that the character has become a pacifist hermit. allowing characters to develop independent of the player’s interactions could very well be annoying, but by breaking the cliché of party members just hanging out on the airship, we might create the impression of deeper, more complex, more interesting characters that not only have lives independent of the player, but also that the player’s actions or inactions have a real, tangible effect on the world.
this technique of finding and violating clichés could be quite useful in other types of design. for example, some of my research is in developing character-based interactive installations. I’m not sure if I’ve been involved in the research long enough to pick out what the clichés are, but one might be that characters respond visibly and often meaningfully to the actions of participants. what if the characters responded, but in a manner opposite the apparent intention of the participant? would this lead to curiosity, frustration, boredom, or some other reaction? this is somewhat like questioning one’s assumptions, but I think it’s a little different, because assumptions tend to guide work, whereas clichés are properties that the work (completed or in process) exhibits.
obviously, some clichés are in place for a reason. some, such as the Law of Scientific Gratification (whatever device you need is near completion but needs you to fetch some final piece from a monster-infested dungeon), are used as plot devices, if not the best ones. I’m not saying to try and rid ourselves of clichés. just like assumptions, clichés will always be with us. rather, the point is that making a list of clichés and then asking how we can design not to follow those clichés can be a useful resource for reflection upon, and inspiration for, design. indeed, it may be a strategy for reflective design (pdf).
the office where I go for physical therapy has some interesting decor. on many of the walls are old-skool sports paraphernalia accompanied by a complimentary drawing in the style of a colored wood-block print that appears to be from the same era as the equipment itself. for example, one wall has a set of old, leather boxing gloves next to a picture of what appear to be two shirtless proper gentlemen in a rope-encircle ring with a judge and several onlookers outside the ring. on another wall hangs a pair of wooden badminton rackets, accompanied by a picture of proper folk playing badminton on the lawn not very much unlike this one (via Google images). overall, it’s actually very tasteful, if not particularly appropriate since many people there are recovering from surgery or old-age induced injuries unrelated to sports.
the most interesting, however, is a catcher’s mitt and mask that appear to be from the turn of the last century. next to them hangs a picture the purportedly depicts the winning run of the 1880 game of the “New York Giants & Chicagos.” the picture shows a runner sliding into home plate and the catcher reaching down to tag the runner. what I find particularly interesting is the title of the picture: “How is it, umpire?” if such a scene were to unfold in professional sports today, it would likely entail the runner and catcher both telling the umpire how it is, not asking. furthermore, half the runner’s team would be waving their arms as a “safe” call, while half the catcher’s team would be jerking their thumbs in an “out” call. I just thought it interesting to see how the tenor of professional sports has changed in the past 125 years.