How About It? ALIEN Tech in Nintendo's New DSi!

I cannot reasonably explain how it happened that I found myself watching Alien Resurrection the other night. It'd be excusable if I had been drinking generous amounts of something toxic or had taken a vigorous clonk to the head, but sadly neither was the case. For no good reason whatsoever I sat through that entire miserable film. As a side note, I’m compelled to point out that whoever thought having the inimitable Joss Whedon write an Alien movie was a good idea deserves a swift kick in his fundament. Don’t get me wrong, I was an avid fan of Buffy TVS in its day, and I believe Firefly and Serenity to be just about the best sci-fi/adventure there is. However, like pickles and marshmallow; Alien and Joss are an appalling pairing of flavors. Actually, I was mildly intrigued by one featured sci-fi concept that had nothing whatsoever to do with the story (or with anything for that matter): the breath-activated security doors.

Yes, the ship had doors equipped with DNA analyzing doohickeys that presumably would only open up if you 1) exhaled into them with enough gusto and 2) had the correct DNA. In one scene, Winona Ryder reveals that she has a collection of tiny Binaca sprayers, each with a different crew member’s breath that she uses to get by this particular security feature. Now, how did she get THOSE?!

At any rate, this concept got me thinking about Nintendo’s new DSi console—okay, this is a stretch but bear with me. In case you haven’t already heard, this newly revised DS is an iteration of the current DS Lite. Essentially, the difference is they’ve added slightly larger screens, better sound, a built-in SD card slot, and two 0.3 megapixel cameras (hence the ‘i” in the name). I’ve heard some people describe the DSi as a sort of stopgap until Nintendo releases its next wildly successful handheld game system, like the DS2 or a new GameBoy…probably in 2010 or thereabouts. This may be true, but the strategy of adding new and unconventional methods of input is like candy to us game developers; it gives this the opportunity to explore different avenues in game design. I’m very interested to see how we will make use of the DSi’s cameras over the next couple of years. We’ve already had some very big publishers talk to us about incorporating them into future games.

So as I watched Winona brandish her little bottles of breath, I speculated on what it would be like if the next DS were to have an on-board breath device (the Nintendo DSb?). Okay, okay, I can already hear the squishy sound of eyes rolling, but hear me out: what if gameplay could be linked to the strength or flavor of a player’s breath? For example, after chowing down a whole carton of chili cheese fries, could a player have an advantage when battling a dungeon BOSS? Could minty breath make other characters like you? Could a game encourage healthier eating by granting special power-ups and abilities to the kid playing who has spinach on his breath? Could Ubisoft release a game aptly titled My Oral Hygiene Coach?

I say...well, heck yeah! This is Nintendo we're talking about. It’s ALL possible and I say bring it! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to eat these chili fries before they get cold.

Image source: Alien Ressurection

The Hazards of Making Licensed Games

Licensed games—games whose identity hails from another, usually more prominent media—are not typically the best games out there. Okay, let’s be honest…quite often they are nothing short of terrible. These games get dreadful write-ups on game review web sites like Game Rankings, GameSpot, and IGN; and are favorite targets for evisceration in Electronic Gaming Monthly magazine’s last-page look at Seanbaby’s “Rest of the Crap.”

How is it that these games can be so reliably bad? Although my experiences working on branded titles have generally been good, I have seen a number of perfectly decent games go down the tubes during the development process:

HAZARD #1—Low development budgets…Having blown all their dough securing an attractive brand license, the game’s publisher finds there isn’t enough left over to actually make a full-featured game. This is sort of like buying an expensive car and not having enough left to buy gas. These publishers usually end up hiring the developer with the lowest bid and they pretty much get what they pay for.

HAZARD #2—Licensor/Publisher meddling…I’ve seen more than a few perfectly well designed games tragically ruined by ham-handed licensors (and publishers, for that matter) who use the “rules” of their brand as a way to dictate gameplay. This is especially frustrating since many of the people making these calls are completely unfamiliar with games. They commonly take things waaaay too literally. For example, “our character can’t be shown to fall off the bottom of the screen.” One licensor actually required us to add a parachute popping out whenever the player’s character fell off-screen. No kidding.

Now, I’m a big believer in designing games to fit smartly within the brand. I realize, for example, that a Polly Pocket FPS is probably a bad idea. However, there are gameplay conventions that players rely on which don’t necessarily follow real-world logic. If a brand needs to be slightly abstracted to achieve better gameplay, it should be done. In the end, a better game only benefits the brand.

HAZARD #3—Brand Zen…Sometimes members of the development team take a prima donna attitude toward the brand and won’t put forth their best efforts. Sure, everyone wishes they could work on a Bioshock or Call of Duty 4, but the way I see it, licensed games give us the prospect of reaching a much larger audience. As a game designer/director, my goal is to entertain as many people as possible; if it’s on the shoulders of a SpongeBob or Barbie title (I’ve worked with both), I’m okay with that!

So how can the common hazards of licensed games be avoided? Really, it all boils down to having impeccable communication. First, having a constant line of communication open with the licensor and publisher, especially between build deliveries, is essential in preventing many of these issues. Instant Messaging is the ideal method for this, allowing the licensor and publisher to have input without the hassle of lengthy conference calls or on-site visits.

Next, the game’s design should be nailed down early and with as much detail as humanly possible. With this blueprint, everyone involved can clearly see the path forward and the licensor can determine early on what may or not be appropriate for their property. When the publisher signs off on a design document, it then becomes the developer’s protection against meddling during production. It is also useful in determining the overall scope of the game so that the developer can work within the game’s budget, even if it’s a limited one.

Finally, regarding prima donnas on the team…you have my permission to shoot them and put them out of your misery. It's unprofessional for them to give anything less than their very best work. When assembling a development team, all potential members should be carefully considered. It’s critical to find personalities that work well together in every discipline and at every level of the production. Remember, having the best of every field (programmer, art director, animator, etc) doesn’t necessarily ensure that you have the best team. A well-cast team directly affects the quality of the journey you take with them as well as the quality of the title you ultimately achieve.

Images from SpongeBob: Creature From the Krusty Krab DS and Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus for GameBoy Advance (both are licensed games I directed)

3D Art: An Exercise in Absurdity

Conversations about videogames, especially those in public places where those nearby may not be familiar with them, can come off as wildly ridiculous. For example, here is a possible Sunday afternoon conversation in...say, Souplantation between two 10 year-olds:

“So did you follow the stinky fish to the snowy place?” says Bobby.

“Yeah, did that. Had to turn into the wolf first,” says Billy.

“Right. Right. Then did you talk to the yeti as a human?” says Bobby.

“Yeah, he invited me to dinner. But how do I get there?” says Billy.

"You have to bonk the tree and sled down on the icicle," says Bobby.

Image source: The Legend of Zelda - Twilight Princess.  It's true, the yeti invites you to dinner.

This sort of abject absurdity isn’t just limited to playing games; it’s common in the development of them as well…especially when it comes to creating art. Last week, I was trying to get the shadow of a 3D game character I’d animated to look right, but it just wasn’t working out.

For anyone not familiar with creating art in 3D, it’s much like dealing with a small, simulated reality. I use a program called 3DS Max.  Characters are “modeled” in a way analogous to a sculptor making something out of clay; animation is comparable to claymation. You can even apply natural forces like gravity and wind to your 3D scenes. Probably the most realistic aspect in 3D is lighting. Game developers light their game environments much the way filmmakers light their movie sets.

This is exactly what I was trying to accomplish with the character I was working on. However, the game it's intended for (a Nintendo DS game to be released next year) is very cartoony, therefore I needed to create a matching cartoony shadow. How exactly to do this had me somewhat stumped though. So I took the problem to my friend Dave Williams who is one of our 3D gurus at WayForward, and is very good at creatively figuring out this kind of stuff. In a public place...say, Souplantation, our garish conversation surely would’ve caused somebody to drop his broccoli:

“So you have to turn off the lights and clone him,” says Dave. 

“Okay. What do I do with the doppelganger?” says Rob.

”You skoosh him flat, totally flat,” says Dave.

“Totally flat? What about the skeleton?” says Rob.

“Smoosh that too," says Dave.

"But won't the bones poke out?" says Rob.

"Nope. And don’t worry about z-fighting, you won’t see it. Then slap him with a dark diffuse and make sure your self-illumination is turned off,” says Dave.

"Okay," says Rob.

And heerz the really weird part...this worked out brilliantly. I ended up with an animated 3D character whose identical twin obediently follows his every move underfoot, essentially playing the part of the shadow. It’s completely absurd, but it came out looking just right.