The Lost Pilot.

One of my goals for the summer is to keep a journal of sorts of things I watch and play. There is much to be learned from things that have already been made, right? Naturally, spoilers abound below.

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About six years too late, I finally watched the Pilot episode(s) of Lost. It was pretty fantastic. A couple of things I noticed:

• The characters were introduced gently. Usually in pairs. This allowed the audience to cling to remember Jack and Kate or Annoying Brat Girl and Brother. It was a lot easier to form associations among all these characters when they were interdependent.
• There were very few introductions. All of a sudden, characters were referring to each other by name. The most memorable of these was Hurley. All of a sudden, everyone is referring to the Big Guy as Hurley. No time was wasted with worthless "Hi, my name is...".
• Each character is hiding something. The audience may not know what it is yet, but we get the sense that everyone has a secret. Kate hides that she's a convict. The Black Dad is hiding his unfamiliarity with his son. Charlie is hiding his drug addiction. One of my big questions is about Creepy Bald Guy playing backgammon with the kid. He's certainly hiding something...
• The writers are controlling very tightly the flow of information. One of my favorite scenes was the discovery of the pilot in the cockpit. Finally, after 16 hours, there is a character who may actually know something. As a viewer, I was watching and waiting for him to start spewing secrets - to help me and the characters understand what happened to them. The whole scene, I was thinking, "Please don't kill the pilot," knowing full well that he was doomed.
  

Now, as a writer, I perfectly understand what's going on here. Give the characters hope. They expect to find a transceiver. They get a transceiver and a living pilot. But what do the writers do? They not only take away the pilot, but they put the characters into an even worse position - a giant who-knows-what is upon them. As a viewer, I was fully engaged emotionally into this scene, hoping against my instinct that the pilot would live to be a recurring character. Writers are allowed this god-like power. To give and to take away. This is what gives stories emotional pull.

Let's take this home into game writing/design, though. As game designers, we have the power to give and to take away. As a DM, I have the power to put a huge treasure horde at the end of a dungeon. And, to give them more, maybe this horde contains the Staff of Overpowered Players. But, to keep a good story according to traditional rules, I want to take away what I've just given them. So I send in a Giant Who-Knows-What, it paralyzes the players and takes the Staff.

Is this good storytelling? Is this good game design? From the mechanical brief that I just used as an example, certainly not. It's terrible game design. What if the players resist the paralysis? Story ruined. What if they teleport out of the dungeon just in time? Story ruined. Heck, what if they just use the staff? Story ruined, game design unbalanced.

So how do game designers and writers use this push and pull of desire, expectation, and consequence effectively?

In a pen and paper setting, this is a little easier. Maybe the staff turns out to be a fake. Maybe the Giant Who-Knows-What focuses all its attacks on the staff and shatters it. Pen and paper GMs can react to these situations much more nimbly and creatively than a video game.

Situations like these are why cutscenes happen. We don't want to give the player the chance to screw up the plot point, so we take control away. Or - and I've done this in D&D - we make the obstacles too great for the player to have a chance. The Giant Who-Knows-What is actually the final boss and there's no way the players can resist its paralysis... It monologues for a while about why it wants the staff even though it's not a player... Then it knocks them out and they wake up in the Old Man's Hut...

Anyway. Neither of these are that great of options. As of this moment, I don't have any great ideas on how to fix it, either. Can you think of any games where this was done especially well?

Verbs.

Sometimes, I like coming up with new ways of coming up with ideas. Check it out:

Games are ultimately built on verbs, right? In shooters, you shoot. In platformers, you jump. In Braid, you turn back time. I think interesting games often have interesting verbs.

So... maybe to come up with ideas, all you need to do is combine unlikely verbs. Next time you need a game idea, come up with 50 different verbs, then start mixing and matching and see what comes out.

Megaman: the Fan-Made Movie.

I was reading Kotaku the other day and found a link to a fan-made Mega Man movie. I was, naturally, dubious. Fan-made things, while filled with passion, are not well funded. (Grayson, a fan-made Batman movie trailer (yeah, just a trailer) is probably the highest quality fan-made product I've seen.) But still. Mega Man is a property ripe for the picking when it comes to film adaptations and I wanted to see how well the filmmakers did with its potential.

There were some things that this film did right. Some good cinematography, for example. Some darned decent CG stuff for a film with (probably) a shoe-string budget. And really, the production design was pretty impressive (again, with the caveat of the shoe-string budget). All of these things were good enough.

What wasn't good enough was the script.

Many things could have fixed this script.

1. The story needed to start in media res. As I recall, the original Mega Man story begins after Wily has already done damage to the city. Mega Man runs through levels that are populated with Wily's robots, eventually ending up at the work-sites of the robot masters. I think these writers confused the idea of a first act with exposition. The action - and, therefore, the story - doesn't begin until 30 minutes into the film. So for 30 minutes, the audience is treated to every boring detail and meaningless conversation that makes up character motives. Starting in media res would have been a much more conflict-driven way to see those motives played out, not have them explained in a monologue.

2. Dr. Light should have died at the end of Act 1. Or, at the very least, taken away from the Hero. This would propel his actions, leave him without a mentor, and would give a lot more credence to Wily's insanity and threat. As it was, Light stayed on and didn't do much besides equipping Mega Man to fight the Act 3 battles.

3. Wily, while goofy in the original games, should not have been so ridiculous... His faux accent, poorly dyed hair, and constantly sweating face did not leave any sense of threat or depth to his character. Now, a goofy looking guy actually being threatening - actually being cruel - that I can get behind. For example, his lines after kidnapping Roll are a small sample of how crazy, cruel, and evil he should have been. Mocking. Sneering. A little immature, but also willing and able to do evil, evil things. I think Kefka from Final Fantasy VI would have been a good model for this kind of villain.

4. The dialogue was painful. I didn't know people could even try to play some of these cliched lines as seriously as these actors did. Do I remember specific examples right now? No. But just imagine. Every "I'll get you next time!" and "Thank God you're alright. I didn't think you'd make it" played out over and over again in different contexts. The only way to fix this is to take a harder look at each character, their flaws, and to actually speak the lines before the actors getting in front of the camera...


Don't get me wrong. I am really impressed by the director, Eddie Lebron. He clearly has some chops in pulling together a technical team to pull a 96 minute fan adaptation of a popular video game franchise. They really did accomplish a lot. It just pains me to see the script in such shambles. Without a solid story, all of the resources go to waste.

My question is this: how do I find these filmmakers? I honestly think that Mr. Lebron's resources could have been much better used had he a better story and screenplay. I also honestly believe that I could have helped make that story and screenplay better. How can I get to these directors early enough to help them tell the story they want to tell?

Moral of the story: let Kemp read your screenplays! Please? I like doing it. I think it'll be better afterward....