Monday, July 30, 2012

On Title Screens





Title screens. You know what they are. Whenever you start a game on your computer or console, the game cycles through a myriad of slash screens displaying the publisher's logo, the developer's logo, the engine used, etc. But eventually it always comes to the first screen you'll see in the game: the title menu.

I've been pretty busy lately working with Ameen, and getting a lot of design work done, as well as finalizing Dead Gear's native resolution, and working out some bugs and problems with the Unity engine. But until a few days ago, I still hadn't actually worked out an actual title menu screen, aside from some layout frames. Heck, I hadn't even really put any thought towards the game's actual logo!

When Daniel chatted with me a few days ago regarding the main theme of Dead Gear; I thought that it would really help inspire him if he had a closer idea as to what the music would be accompanied by on-screen. So I gave him a few mockup splash screens that would appear right when you boot the game up.

An animated splash screen that eventually fades into:
This! The logo for Daedalus Games.

This splash screen is followed by this:

A static splash screen for the COGS project; a series I hope to continue.

But I had yet to create the actual title menu or Dead Gear logo. So I set myself to brainstorm mode and, through a lot of trial and error, came up with this:

The current Dead Gear Logo.

As anyone who has tried their hand at graphic design will tell you, the art of crafting an excellent logo can be maddeningly difficult. I must have tried ten dozen different ways to create a clever logo that somehow incorporates a gear into the letters themselves. My best effort? A G that looks kind of like this:

if you flip it on its side, it kind of looks like a flamingo's head
But eventually I came to the semi-finalized version above, which gave it the sort of look I desired: a more elegant, simple, Final Fantasy style. I then incorporated it (again, through a lot of trial and error) into a mockup title screen:

To fans of my comic and not-comic, it might look familiar!
While still not perfect (it'll certainly need more tweaking before release), I felt that it fit the mood I was going for. And while I was crafting this, I did a lot of thinking about title screens in other games. There's a pretty rich history of title menus.

Galaga, or wall of text, the game?

Back in the 80s, menus screens were almost carbon copies of their arcade counterparts. In arcades, menu screens were pretty barebones, and served a few pretty simple purposes: to display the current high score, to display the game's logo as prominently as possible, how many credits had been inserted and as a small menu to choose whether to or not you'd be playing with other people. As a general rule for the early title screens, it always seems like there's more text than anything else taking up the real estate of the screen, and then programmer art.

Damn your rustled, windswept hair, megaman.
Eventually, as programmers let the artists do more of the layout work, and most of the text disappeared in the early 90s. Art filled most of the screen, giving a more aesthetically pleasing title screen. Now, the text that did remain were purely for the sake of the menu. In the early 90s, some games began giving players the option of difficulty levels as well, something that wasn't very common with arcade games of the age.





Eventually, as the 90s progressed and tastes were refined, only a single unwritten rule remained: The game's logo should naturally take up a large portion of the screen space, with a small copyright text. This wasn't so much a rule as it was common artistic sense: this allowed the title screen to be both pleasing to the eye, and it gave the developer a chance to hook players into the game. If the players weren't sure if they wanted to play the game, they sure did now.

The Zelda and Chrono Cross title screens were interesting, as they were simply the game's logo imposed over a moving 3D background, displaying gameplay or the game world itself instead of static art or imagery. Zelda's title screen played the iconic Zelda theme while listening to the stomping of Epona's hoofs, which was for many who played the game, an extremely memorable experience. Chrono Cross' title screen played soothing music while moving a camera through a beautiful underwater landscape. Many other games eventually took that path as well, although many still opted for classy static backgrounds and art.






Now, in the modern age of gaming, developers have tried to keep things as simple as possible. Many indie games and many AAA-quality games still go for the simple, static approach. Other developers try to mix it up a little, like how Valve cleverly changed the backgrounds of Half-life 2 depending on what section of the game you were currently on; serving as a sort of reminder to the player as to where they last left off. (Minecraft used a similar idea as well, using a generated world as the background for the title screen.)

So by looking at all of these, what do we need in a successful title screen?

I would say that it really only requires three things:

-A good, strong title/logo.
-A non-clashing background. If the background clashes with your logo and the menu, it will look amateur. If you want an example, take a look at the majority of flash games.
-Music and/or sound! Tying a memorable song to the main menu/title screen is important, as the players will be going through it each time they play the game.


With Dead Gear, I decided to go with a more static, simple imagery; simply because I felt it worked best. The maps, ink and paper slowly shift in the background so it isn't just a flat, unmoving image. Anyway, that's my little talk on title screens. Sorry for the lack of updates this month! In August I'll try to go for one update per week.

Take it easy,

-Alex

Friday, July 13, 2012

Main Characters and the Blank Slate theory

On this blog, I've never really delved into the plot of Dead Gear, but today I figured I should at least tell you who it's about!



The player controls a girl named Illyia. Her direct description from the game design document is as follows:

A curious-minded 15-year old Aetherian girl named Illyia. She has an unusually strong gift in Crystalmancy, the ability to evoke magic from crystals and stones; a trait common in her Aetherian heritage. Raised by wealthy foster parents in Central City, she braved an adventure to find her real parents in the midst of the Centralian-Aetherian war, forging friendships with unlikely people. After crash-landing on Dead Gear, she will stop at nothing to find her friends in the Daedalus crew. She prefers dressing simply, wearing only a purple tunic and a necklace. Her refusal to wear shoes is a source of humor and fascination among those she meets.

 As the description says, Illyia's main skill is in Crystalmancy, her ability to use magic from the stones and gems she collects during the game. She's an intelligent, sharp-tongued girl, and her dialogue in the game reflects that.



This reminds me of a technique used in a lot of games, and you're probably familiar with it. You can call it the blank slate theory, the tabula rasa theory; but basically, it's a silent protagonist. A main character that never speaks, but may convey emotion through facial expressions, actions, etc.

If you're any kind of gamer, you'll recognize this type. Mario, Link, Gordon Freeman, Samus Aran, Master Chief, Chell; all of these characters belong to this trope. Some people in the game industry have gone on record saying that they hate the silent protagonist, that it's lazy storytelling. They prefer a fully developed character, or at least one that you can mold to your own liking, like Commander Shepard in Mass Effect.



And yet, games such as Wind Waker and the Paper Mario series excel at telling a fairly complex story with nothing more than pure expressiveness, and even some tongue-in-cheek lampshading of the trope itself. Even Jack from Bioshock is completely mute, and it only seems to intensify the narrative. Why is it so effective?
When a person plays Zelda or Half Life, the silent protagonist technique allows me to play a blank slate and put my own personality into the character. They depend on other characters and situations to do the talking for them, and I can personally respond to these characters and situations in my head, without having thinking about what Link would ACTUALLY say. It endears the characters to the people playing, because effectively, they are playing as themselves.

 Of course, the silent protagonist technique doesn't work for all games. Would Metal Gear Solid have worked if Snake hadn't spoken? Probably not very well, even if all he did were annoyed grunts. It all really depends on the game and the plot. If the plot is character-driven, then the silent protagonist usually doesn't have enough strength to stand on its own; unless the side characters are so compelling that the story really becomes about them (such as Bioshock). 








 All in all, people who dislike the silent protagonist are often missing the big picture. They feel like they need a pre-established character in order to create a compelling narrative, and that simply isn't true. Some people simply cannot seem to immerse themselves into a blank slate character, and that's kind of a shame, since many of the silent protagonist games are the most well-written! 




With my respect for the silent protagonist, you might think that I would adopt that plot mechanic for Dead Gear, especially since it's a common device in Metroidvania-style games. But I ultimately decided to give Illyia a voice of her own, rather than the player giving her one. She's a developed character with a past of her own and a story to tell, so I thought that it would be the best course of action.

-Alex