Simulated Effort.

I drank waay too much caffeine last night.  I ended up in bed around 1:00am, but unable to sleep until probably 2:30.  During that time, I teetered on the edge of sleep, leading to some interesting thoughts that, I’m sure, will be shared on here in the coming days.

One of the things that struck me (for whatever reason) is simulated effort as portrayed in platformer games.  By simulated effort, I mean the simple idea that the longer you hold the jump button, the higher your character jumps.  It was a simple choice in the early Mario games, I’m sure, but as I thought about it, it was quite significant.

This might seem obvious to most of the world, but that kind of means that the harder I work, the harder Mario works.  And none of us, especially in the early days, merely pushed down the button and leisurely held it longer.  No, we mashed that thing into the controller.  On several occasions, I’m pretty sure I had to unstick the B button out from underneath my Super Nintendo controller.  As I reflect, though, my increased effort was met with what seemed to be a commensurate amount of effort from my little avatar, Mario. 

This really increases the identification I have with my character, too.  We really are on the same team, both trying hard to save the princess. 

I mean, think about it.  How much more sense did Mario make in Super Mario World than Donkey Kong?  In Donkey Kong (correct me if I’m wrong), your jumps barely clear the barrels.  Every time.  Mario’s effort was the same when you accidentally hit jump as when you, in a last minute realization, jammed it with all of your might.  But in Super Mario World, Mario can hop.  And when you want and need him to, he jumps with all his might.  How right did that feel the first time someone experienced that? 

Obviously, this idea has evolved over time.  My favorite instance of simulated effort was in the cult classic, Shadow of the Colossus.  I have never been more stressed in a video game than when I realized that, by holding a button and watching a bar disappear, I was making this poor kid hold on for his life.  As that circle of effort shrank to nothing, I pressed harder, hoping that, against all logic, it might help my hero.  He seemed to renew his effort, but his exhausted animation matched the dwindling “effort bar” until he fell back to the ground.

What brilliant innovations for their time, these simulations of effort!  Now, in our era of motion gaming, we have new opportunities of increasing the bond between player and character.  And yet, in the motion games I’ve played, this has woefully not been the case.  Is this because of lack of engaging games (most motion games are sports sims, so far, it seems)?  Or is there an “uncanny valley” when it comes to motion control without force feedback?  What are your thoughts?