Indie Game the Movie features Jonathan Blow's Braid. In one section, Blow talks about Braid's popular reception. The music swells with a melancholy tone as Soulja Boy Provides His Thoughts in the background. It seems that Jonathan Blow doesn't really agree with peoples' perceptions of the game. Watching the video, there is a degree of "laughter and incredulity" type of enjoyment over a more "academic" or "articulate" enjoyment.
After our discussions about procedural and experiential analysis, this feels like a satisfying example where the two types of analyses can really diverge. Procedurally, Braid is a game about a world where, although you can time travel, things can be permanently changed. The main character chases after something that, even with time travel, can never be his the way he wants it and might not even exist in the first place. The storybooks before every stage weave a narrative about an almost delusional hope the main character has, leaving behind a significant other for someone who might not even exist. In the end, we see that the Princess he chases after doesn't even want to be with him. The final sequence contrasts both of these ideas. The time reversal mechanic serves as a transition between two views: going forward, the main character works together with his princess; in reverse, the princess is actually running away from him.
Experientially, Soulja Boy showcases one level where the time reversal mechanic takes the character back up a big pit. He's laughing and repeatedly holding shift over and over again. To me, the time reversal mechanic is so incredibly satisfying that I just walked along and held shift to watch the entire game go in reverse. In pursuit of the story, I didn't try to get any puzzle pieces either. I just walked through every room.
It's interesting to look back at developers as their games come out. I imagine that when a mystery novelist finally publishes, they nervously wait for results: is it a good mystery novel, or just a bad mystery novel? Outside of ironically bad novels, there isn't really any room for some kind of "they enjoy it, but not the way I wanted them to enjoy it" reaction. How did Jonathan Blow feel, I wonder, when he finally finished pouring his soul into a story of obsession, loss, and (I imagine) very fiddly time-travel programming only to have Soulja Boy observe how his character looks like "Mario in a suit" ?
I never thought I'd see Soulja Boy provide such fantastic insight on a game I've played, let alone one that relates to the class so much! Truly a gem. In all seriousness, that was a great video and I think being able to enjoy the game even without understanding the "deeper" statements it's trying to make is ultimately maybe even more important than the message. On one hand if your game isn't captivating people are less likely to stay long enough for a message to reach them at all, and on the other... not everyone wants to think these big brain thoughts. Sometimes you just wanna hit some weird goomba parodies and rewind time. If a game can do both…
Hi Alvin. I think you made a very interesting point about certain games tending to be more proceduralist or more play-centrist than others. In the case of Braid, I completely agree that the narrative structure and the time-rewind mechanics shift the meaning of the game to come from a proceduralist point-of-view much more than a play-centric one. The cryptic narrative told by the books at the start of each world tells the player that the message of the game is written explicitly (and implicitly through the mechanics) within the game itself, so any interpretation derived by the player's choices in this game would not seem nearly as accurate as one based off the developer's intentions.
In most 2D platformers (such…
I agree with you that the game is largely proceduralist. The game is designed in such a way that the player is bound to receive the game's message through finishing the game. For example, Braid's narrative ending mocks the player for his determination in achieving the goal. At the game's beginning, the game tells the player that he needs to rescue the princess taken by an "unknown monster." The game sets a clear goal for the player who, when reaching that goal, would only be shocked and disappointed that the character he plays is in fact a monster rather than a savior.
Secondly, Braid also uses its time-rewinding mechanism to make the player understand that mistakes can never be undone.…
Hi Alvin! So I think in your post I was able to read out a reception of Braid that focuses on employing and thereby enjoying its mechanics. I must say that I am able to empathize with this attitude, because I feel empowered with it. By saying that, I mean not so much as I could use it over and over for its excitement, but more like the ability I realized I have with it to recover from my mistakes and (with some brain activity) solve otherwise impossible puzzles.
This ability delights me for, firstly, I am generally not good at keeping my character alive in platform games -- my hands just don't want to do that; secondly, this is…
Hi Alvin, thanks for the amazing post! Since I had a different reaction when playing the game (which was more similar to what Jonathan has expected.), your blog makes me to think why and how player experience vary towards same game mechanics. And I found interview of Jonathan https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1Fg76c4Zfg, where he mentioned people had expectations of games as being fun, and that affected their experience. Expectation definitely affects my play experience. Because I've read some posts prior to playing Braid and knew it contained serious messages.
Yet, fun and seriousness are not mutually exclusive. So there could be ways to design a game that adds seriousness to people's expectation. If we think of game design process as designers trying to…