For most animals (and historically for humans as well) play is form of practice/training for adult life.  Animals pretend to bite and scratch each other for fun, but it is direct training for survival in predatory world.  Children used to go fishing – a skill set that has a pretty direct application in that it is a means of obtaining food.  Likewise, children would play with dolls in part as preparation/familiarization for parenthood.

Sooo… what does that say about the games we play (or create)?

Either developers are either inadvertently training our audiences to solve problems with force, or (what I find to be more accurate and relevant) NOT training our audiences for anything they are more likely face in their lives.

The play that developers are currently offering isn’t relevant to our players’ lives.

Could we make interesting games with more general relevance?  Perhaps there could be some form of economic content that would help folks understand money and debt better in real life. Maybe there could be something that helps people to better understand how to work up the social hierarchy of the corporate ladder.

Could we make a game that prepares people for life in a cubicle?  Would we want to?

On the game that I am currently working on, the core mechanic is all about exploration, which seemed fine to me – as it does not have any particularly negative aspect to it.

But perhaps that is not good enough. The ‘message’ of the game as I intend it, would be the importance of exploration and experimentation. But then I wonder if it’s just an excuse and that I could be offering content that is more directly useful in people’s lives.

I want to launch with an exploration of the control scheme for the game. The user inputs that were chosen for character movement were heavily criticized for being ‘unintuitive’. [Indeed it took me 3 or 4 attempts at playing this game before I finally figured out how to shoot the pistol]

The game uses an unconventional mapping for character movement - the ‘up’ button moves the character forward, and the ‘left’ and ‘right’ buttons rotate the character. I believe that this mapping was chosen to anchor one consistent direction to the up button. Because the game has dramatic camera angles that change orientation in almost every room, it is functional to be able to hold down one button and continue progression in a consistent direction.

In order to shoot a weapon the player needs to hold down the L1 button while pressing a 2nd button on the keypad. This is also an unconventional choice but serves the useful function of not wasting ammo by accident – because this is a game with limited resources.

The limitation of resources is not only a gameplay mechanic, but adds a level of emotional tension. Most players experience a sense of anxiety as their resources diminish. The amount of times that a player can save is also a commodity. This inability to easily leave the game world beautifully mirrors the core of the story – that the characters cannot escape the house.

The flow and content of the game is fairly predictable, but balanced and well executed. The player can find various keys that unlock different types of doors. This mechanic is straightforward and in most instances the game does nothing to mask this element.

At certain junctures there are puzzle elements which are necessary for progression. This is a bit curious in that the puzzles are not a core element of the game, yet do not add substantial depth.

The visual aspects of this game do give substantial depth, however. The backgrounds are pre-rendered, which allowed them to be created with far more detail than its real-time contemporaries. That detail allows each part of the mansion to look unique, and helps the feeling of reward when a new area has been unlocked. Each room is displayed from different camera angles, giving a dramatic aesthetic.

The first thing that I want to point out is that this game is a direct descendant of Pac Man – a game also built by Namco many years before. The primary focus is on collecting things and avoiding baddies – unless the game is in a state where you can consume enemies.

Much like its ancestor, this game is extremely focused on simple core mechanics. There are no power ups to manage in Katamari, and user control is absolutely consistent within levels. This allows the learning process to be fairly straight forward, slowly refining the skills that are introduced early on.

The visual and auditory feedback is continuous, letting you know how much you are picking up with satisfying pops (and the occasional scream from a sumo wrestler).

One of the things that make the mechanic of collect distinctive is that the relationships between your character and the environment are not absolute. An item that serves as a barrier early in a level will usually become something consumable later in the level.

Also an animal that causes you harm (or at least inconvenience), can be rolled into your ball later on. This potentially taps an undercurrent of the human compulsion for revenge.

I would guess that this relative relationship between things would make level design extremely challenging. How do you place a level wall that is also an item to be collected? I can almost imagine the items needing to be placed in a fractal sort of arrangement.

The game has an extremely simple but unique Art style. This item simplicity has a couple of secondary implications for the game:

1. They can be created faster, allowing for more things to be built in the same amount of time, and
2. They have a lower polygon count so that more items can be shown on screen at on time.

Both of which contribute to a larger variety of items that can be seen and interacted with throughout the game. If there were only a handful of items that could be picked up, the game would feel significantly different.

The multitude of items and their (seemingly) unusual placement give the game a powerful sense of absurdity. The game has a sense of humor, but does so without telling any jokes.

Ironically, the story elements of the game are fairly serious. The relationship between the main character and the father character is strained. But in a subtle way. There is not any major event that plays out for the sake of drama. His quiet disapproval of an incomplete mission adds some emotional weight to the game. Somehow this is accessible in a personal way that more epic stories are not.

Emotional content aside, the concept truly uses the media of games in a powerful way. It allows the player to experience something that they cannot in regular life in an interactive way. You would NOT have a similar experience if this was described in book or movie form.

In a game there are elements of challenge and reward that drive you towards completing objectives. When a player learns and experiences success, they feel good – and look to repeat the experience with more challenge.

As a result, there is a learning curve in games. If there is nothing new to learn, the game becomes boring and is soon abandoned (examples: Tic Tac Toe, Candyland). Also if the game is too difficult learn, unappealing, or unclear (example: Minesweeper, or Playing Chess against a superior opponent), the game is often deserted in favor of something more accessible.

The games that are the most enjoyable are the ones that are perfectly suited for our ability level. Candyland and Tic Tac Toe are great games for younger children, but not challenging enough for most adults.

Our experiences in life operate in exactly the same manner. An appropriate challenge tends to keep us contented and happy.

When things come to us too easily we tend to get bored and move on. Most people have at some point had a job that was just plain boring. Usually that is a result of not having enough challenge within that atmosphere.

Likewise, when a challenge seems too large (or unappealing or unclear) – it feels inaccessible. We often walk away from the challenge without even trying to accomplish it.

Most people do not attempt to *earn $1,000,000 in one year’s time because it feels inaccessible. People either
Are totally unclear as to how to accomplish this,
Find it a too difficult of a task, or
Find it unappealing for some reason (perhaps citing that “money is the root of all evil”)

Shifting back to the game analogy - If you were playing Chess against someone who kept won every time, you could
1. Give up Chess altogether,
2. Continue to play Chess and find an opponent who is better matched to you, or
3. Learn strategies to becoming a better player.

If you had interest in Chess you would likely opt for BOTH #2 and #3. You would innately understand that you are able to become a better player with more training and experience. You accept that there will lose some games on your road to success. Eventually you may be able to outplay the nitwit who formerly crushed you every game.

Likewise with the $1,000,000 goal, you could:
1. Give up on the goal altogether.
2. Find a goal that is more accessible to your current situation.
3. Learn strategies to earn more income. If you are tenacious, you may find this ambitious goal achievable.

Unlike games, in life most people end up doing #1 and #2. In most cases #3 is also an option, but fear of failure, uncertainty of path or disinterest (like an internal contradiction of believing “money is the root of all evil”) keep us from continuing on the path to success.

When I am faced by a daunting task, I often find myself trying to think of it as a game. If it is too overwhelming to try right away, I read about it and try to understand the problem more clearly. I may try to complete a smaller objective as a learning experience.

So right now I am learning how to become financially independent.

I consider it the miniboss of this level.

*I am only using money because it is clear and easily measurable. The objective could be something far less tangible like: living a healthy lifestyle, keeping a positive attitude, or creating more time to spend with your family.