作者：Eric Schwarz

关于当前的幸存者恐怖游戏，最让我感到厌烦的便是它们总是在轻视玩家。我承认，我并不非常热衷于恐怖游戏，但是除了因为我不喜欢恐怖的东西之外，还因为这些游戏总是被局限于一些极其笨重的控制器中，而我也曾经很不幸地尝试到了它们的“威力”。

假设你正在玩《生化危机》这款被认为是最早的幸存者恐怖游戏之一。当你进入一栋大厦后，你将会被一种可怕的气氛笼罩着，突然，你被一只僵尸袭击了。你的本能是什么？当然是逃了！但是当你想要朝着最有可能逃脱的方向奔去时，你所控制的任务角色却转变了方向，并慢慢地移动着，大约花了2秒的时间进行180度的转弯，浪费了这么多时间，使得僵尸能够轻易地对他发动攻击。真的是款愚蠢的游戏！

生化危机(from wii.ign.com)

虽然我以《生化危机》为例，但是却还有很多游戏，不论是幸存者恐怖游戏还是其它游戏，都存在着这一缺陷。另外一款游戏便是我最近玩过的《死亡空间》。虽然这款游戏很有趣，但是所有的乐趣却因为其笨拙的鼠标控制和设置不合理的转弯半径而毁了。虽然游戏中添加了一些特别的元素，如让主角Isaac能够穿上高级采矿服等，但是当玩家开始游戏时，却会很快感到厌烦。说的好听一点便是这款游戏像是一个人工势垒，而不好听的话，就是开发者并未真正理解怎么才能在开发第一阶段设计出人性化的控制方案。

控制方式是一大关口

当我在思考控制方案的时候，我首先想到的并不是“如何把所有功能填满X个按钮”或者“为了让这一设置正常运作我们应该削减那些环节”，而是“我们应该如何做才能合理地安置输入设备，保持它们的一致性并发挥其最大功能”。其实这么做很容易，但复杂的游戏来却常忽视这一点——让玩家能够在虚拟环境中有效地控制角色并更好地应对场景设置。如此看来，控制器应该围绕着游戏环境，尽可能的简单，直接，且富有逻辑性。

让我们举个例子来说。在《神鬼寓言III》中，控制器的设置便很简单，且保持着高度的一致性。通过虚拟摇杆控制玩家的移动，按钮A能够让玩家与游戏世界进行互动，而按钮X用于格斗进攻，按钮Y用于远程进攻，按钮B用于发动魔法攻击。玩家可以按照不同力度按压这些按钮而转变功能，即长摁按钮将能够发射出更强且更具冲击性的进攻。如何获得火球符咒？按住相对应按钮，你便能够在特定区域发射火球了。如何获得战锤？按住相对应按钮，你的周围将形成一股强大的力量。基于不同的武器和法术装备，这些控制器的功能也会发生相应的变化，但是这些变化却不会让玩家感到不适或不理解。

但是很显然，比起其它游戏，《神鬼寓言III》简单多了，无需设置像《街头霸王IV》那样的策略，尽管如此它也能让每一个按钮都能完美运作，而玩家的每一次行动都能轻松实现。在简单了解后玩家便能够开始玩游戏了。控制器将玩家带入游戏世界，所以并不能被当成障碍，而是帮助玩家在游戏世界伸缩自如的重要工具。而这些控制器的本质属性更是能让玩家在游戏中不会感到任何束缚；如果出现了失误，也是因为玩家能力不足，或者反应不够快，而不能归咎于控制器。控制器作为玩家进入游戏世界的一大关口，我们必须牢牢把握住它！

控制方式的触感

控制器的另外一大优点，特别是游戏手柄，便是带有触感，即使用时感受到的动感，而这也是很多游戏开发者很容易忽视的一点。你是否曾经操作过新的键盘或者手柄模型而感受到完全不同的游戏体验？因为我们能与虚拟世界进行交流的方法很少，所以输入设备的物理性质和感觉就变得更加重要了，而且因为我们对游戏世界并不了解，如此的触感能因此弥补这一大片的空白。

按压按钮不只是“按压按钮”这么简单。这一简单行动的背后其实远比我们的想象复杂多了，尽管我们并未意识到这一点。从我们的想法来看，如果我们想要执行一个动作，那么便希望能够按照自己的想法操纵控制器而达到预想的效果。从我们的行动来看，当玩家启动控制器的时候控制器必须以一定的力学为基础向游戏传达玩家的动作。最后我们便能在屏幕上看到我们的想法，动作以及控制器所表现出来的机制了。尽管我们认为这只是一个步骤，但是它却会在整个游戏过程中伴随着我们，同时它也能让玩家更好地感受到游戏操作的乐趣。如果单纯地晃动战锤并不能让玩家感到满意，但是配上真实般的物理行动便不一样了，而且当我们在进攻击时，按动按钮也能让我们有一种期待感。

关于控制器的触感是如何影响玩家的游戏体验，赛车游戏便是个典例。之前提到的模拟shoulder buttons，加速器，刹车等都只需要你按压一个或两个face button即可——为了能够转换速度并维持严格的控制，其中一个按钮应该带有加速装置。但是因为涉及到了技术的问题，所以这种控制并不能真正让玩家感受到现实驾驶的体验。加入模拟shoulder buttons用于加油和刹车控制，瞬间让整个虚拟赛车体验变得更加真实：当玩家按压其中一个shoulder buttons时，便会感受到犹如现实驾车般的真实感受，虽然这种感受仍然存在着差异性。

goldeneye-007(from jeuxvideo.com)

另外一个关于控制器触感的例子是早前的游戏《Goldeneye 007》。该款游戏最初发行于任天堂64，之所以会大受欢迎便是因为它在掌机中建立起了有效且有趣的第一人称游戏体验，提供给玩家真实般的3D图像和场景，围绕于3D场景中的精确控制以及利用各种技术特征而制定的游戏机制。然而，我却想把《Goldeneye 007》的成功归功于它对任天堂64的合理掌控——同时也考虑到任天堂64的非传统的手柄装置，位于控制器底部的单一Z触发器，这一装置比起传统的掌机控制器来说更加让人满意，因为它提供给玩家更好的发射武器之感。在《Goldeneye 007》中，玩家只需按压A按钮便能射击，虽然这一设置很有趣，但是却大大削弱了挥动武器和开火的体验。因为这款游戏清楚地认识到控制器的触感的重要性，所以才能抓住这一机遇获得成功。

控制方式需与我们的认知相一致

电子游戏产业中的一切产物都具有创造性，甚至是控制器（游戏邦注：如《Splinter Cell》是由鼠标滚动去控制移动速度，或者《Assassin’s Creed》的水平调节系统），通常来说，最好的控制器都符合我们对现实情况的认识。也许有很多人认为应该重新改造车轮，但是同时也有很多支持车轮保持原样的理由——现在的车轮就已经很棒了，不需要去做那些无聊的改变。而且，新的控制器也存在着一定的风险，即玩家必须重新学习并适应它。所有的游戏都自身的学习曲线，当然了，当玩家坐下来打算开始游戏时却不得不学习一些无聊的东西，将会严重影响他们的游戏体验。这就是为什么很多游戏坚持“右键点击->选择，并左键点击->移动”，为什么很多角色扮演游戏使用按键J代表“移动（Journal）”，L代表“前行（Log）”，以及为什么方向键（WASD）在电脑游戏上如此受欢迎的原因，不只是因为这些按键有意义，而且因为这种方法已经形成了一种“传统”，玩家对此都很熟悉了。

然而我所说的一致性并不完全指代之前的游戏，它同时也指代我们所熟知的现实性。《生化危机》之所以会让玩家感觉到怪异且沉并不全因为按钮设置不合理，而是因为玩家在进入游戏世界后却发现并不能按照自己在现实世界中的理解去进行游戏。简单地来说，我们知道人类可以移动，了解人类跑步的速度，转向速度以及做出反应的速度等等，但是《生化危机》却忽视了人们的这些直观知识，而提供给玩家一种全然不同的体验，让他们只能通过不断的失败和犯错才能慢慢摸索清楚。游戏中的僵尸就与我们的想象有所出入（我们记忆中的僵尸应该是动作缓慢，步伐沉重而笨拙的形象），Chris Redfield理应是精英S.T.A.R.S.中的技工——但要不是他的标准装备包和混凝土鞋，我们真的看不出他是一名技工，因为其形象完全与现实生活中我们所看到的形象相违背，整个游戏事件动乱不安，有可能会因此让玩家永远失去兴趣。

当然了，对于这一规则也有例外存在。作为一名射击游戏的粉丝，我最基本的要求便是，在第一人称射击游戏中一定要包含鼠标滑动设置，加速器以及其它相关的设置，特别是在一些带有局限性的游戏中。举个例子来说，《战地：叛逆连队2》的鼠标控制很精确，但是当我们去驾驶一辆坦克或者运载重型机关枪时，鼠标就变得不再那么灵活了。大概，游戏开发者是想让玩家在运行重物或者控制威力较大的机器时感受到相同的沉重感而因此改变了手柄的触感，平衡了玩家的游戏体验。但是归根究底，这些问题最终还是会因为不同玩家的偏好而有不同定论，我认为在以技术为基础的装置上，这种控制器上的人为限制因素把玩家的技术和角色卷入了一种不必要的死板规则中。也许控制器的这种迟缓看起来更加贴近现实，但是如果这种现实性会因此扰乱玩家的游戏体验，那么它就不再那么重要了，尤其是在塔防类游戏中更为明显。相同地，我并不认为打斗类游戏的粉丝会因为你告诉他们在输入与进行下一步骤之前会有0.2秒的延时而感到高兴。

结论

你应该牢记，在设计控制器的时候最重要的一个问题便是“如何才能更直接且更自然地执行一个功能，并牢记我们的输入设备的物理功能和属性”。事实上，关于如何创造一个优秀的控制器并没有一个准确的答案，但是如果记住以上所提到的一些观点，我们将能更好地吸引住玩家而不至于遭到他们的讨厌。同时，更重要的是这么做能够帮我们避免一些人为的阻碍因素，即影响玩家的游戏体验而破坏他们对于游戏的期待。（本文为游戏邦/gamerboom.com编译，如需转载请联系：游戏邦）

Good and bad controls: “it’s a feature, not poor design!”

by Eric Schwarz

If there’s one thing I hate about the survival horror genre of games, it’s that so many of them seem to revel in an active contempt for the player.  I admit that I’m not the biggest fan of horror games in general, but there has always been one thing that’s kept me out aside from the fact that I’m generally not a fan of being frightened, and that’s the fact that consistently, those games are limited by some of the clunkiest controls I’ve ever had the misfortune of attempting to use.

I’ll set the stage.  You’re playing Resident Evil, what’s supposed to be one of the premier survival horror classics.  You’ve entered the mansion, you’re into the atmosphere and the mood… and then, suddenly, you’re under attack by a zombie!  Your first instinct?  Run away, of course… but as you try to move in the most obvious direction, your character instead chooses to turn, slowly and methodically, in a complete 180 degree arc over the course of about two seconds… and before you’re even able to make a break for it, the zombie is gnawing on your head’s gooey innards.  Stupid game.

Although I like to use Resident Evil as an example, there are plenty more games that do this sort of thing… both in and outside of the survival horror genre.  Another similar game I played lately is Dead Space, which, though enjoyable, was marred by the fact that the game’s mouse controls were extremely sluggish, and his turning radius was such that fast maneuvering was an impossibility.  Presumably, this was an attempt to simulate wearing Isaac’s heavy mining suit… but when it comes to actually playing the game, it ends up hurting the overall experience.  At best, it feels like an artificial barrier… and at worst, it can feel like the developer had no real understanding of how to design an intuitive control scheme in the first place.

Controls are a gateway

When I think about control schemes, the number one thing on my mind isn’t “how can I cram all this functionality onto X number of buttons” or “what do we need to cut to get this setup to work”, it’s “how can we map parts of the input device in a way that is logical, consistent and functional?”  It can be easy, especially with complex games, to lose sight of precisely what it is the controls are actually designed to do in the first place: give the player a way to effectively manipulate a character or set of abilities within a virtual environment.  Above all else, controls need to be easy to understand, intuitive, and logical within the confines of that environment.

Let’s take an example.  In Fable III, the controls are set up in a simple, easy-to-grasp and highly consistent manner – the analogue stick manages character movement, and the various face buttons are relegated to interaction with the world (A), melee attacks (X), ranged attacks (Y) and magic attacks (B).  The player is able to modify the sorts of functions these buttons perform by holding down the button for varying lengths, with a longer button press leading to a bigger and more impressive action in-game.  Got a fireball spell?  Hold down the button and now it provides an area-of-effect flame burst.  Warhammer?  Hold down its button and you’ll perform a powerful sweep around you.  These control functions change a bit based on the weapon or spell equipped, but they make perfect sense and are never inconsistent with what the player already understands.

Now, granted, obviously Fable III is a fairly simple game compared to some, and it doesn’t require the same finesse of Street Fighter IV, but there is never any question while playing what button does what, how the player performs an action, etc.  After a brief learning curve, the player can simply pick up the game and play it.  The controls, effectively, serve as an extension of the player’s will within the game world – they are not a barrier, but a conduit which allows for free expression within a game’s ruleset.  And due to the nature of those controls, the player never feels that he or she is denied options when playing the game, or artificially limited by the input available; if a mistake is made, it’s due to the player’s lack of ability, or reflexes, not the control scheme.  It’s this ideal, controls which serve as a gateway into the world, that I think games should strive for.

Controls are tactile

Another great advantage of controls, gamepads especially, that I tend to see ignored or overlooked by developers, is that there is a great tactile, kinetic feeling to using them.   Have you ever got a new keyboard, or gamepad model, and found that your relationship towards the game felt completely different?  As one of the few ways we’re able to interface with virtual worlds, the physical nature and feeling of an input device is extremely important to immersion – and because we are so limited in the way we perceive those worlds, our minds naturally fill in the gaps while playing.

Pressing a button is never just “pressing a button”.  The process behind the action is far more complicated, even if we don’t actively realize it.  From our thoughts, come motion – we want to perform an action, and so we move to manipulate the controller in a way that we know will service the outcome we desire.  From our movement, the controller actuates, and there is a time wherein the controller must operate on a mechanical level to transmit that motion to the game.  Finally, we actually see the results of our thoughts, movements, and the controller’s own mechanism appear on-screen.  Even though we think of this as one step, there are several along the way, and they are all equally important to constructing the overall “feel” of operating with a game.  Swinging that massive warhammer wouldn’t be quite so satisfying if there wasn’t a physical act associated with it, and when we charge up a larger attack, holding down the button gives us a feeling of anticipation for the outcome.

An easy example of how the tactile nature of controls has improved the feel of a game immensely has been in the racing genre.  Prior to the introduction of analogue shoulder buttons, acceleration and braking was a matter of holding down a single face button or two – in order to vary speed and maintain precise control, one had to “feather” the accelerator.  While still a matter of skill, this didn’t make for a particularly convincing or realistic driving experience.  Come the inclusion of analogue shoulder buttons, however, used for both gas and brake, suddenly the act of virtual driving was significantly improved: now, there was a direct 1:1 relationship between how distinctly one of those shoulder buttons was pressed.  Effectively, driving went from 2D to 3D.

Another more direct example of the kinetic nature of controls comes from an older title, Goldeneye 007.  Originally released for the Nintendo 64, one of Goldeneye’s biggest claims to fame was that it was able to build an effective and fun first-person experience on a game console, with true 3D graphics and movement, precise controls within that 3D environment, and with gameplay which actually took advantage of those technical features.  However, I place much of Goldeneye’s success control-wise in the hands of the Nintendo 64 controller – while still considered an extremely unconventional gamepad, its single Z trigger, located at the bottom of the controller, was able to, more satisfyingly than just about any other conventional console controller, simulate the feeling of firing a weapon.  Had shooting in Goldeneye been a matter of simply hitting the A button, it probably still would have been fun, but the feel of actually wielding a weapon and firing it would have been significantly diminished.  Rare quite clearly realized the advantage of having a strong tactile feeling to their controls, and I think it contributed much to Goldeneye’s success.

Controls are consistent with what we know

While much is made in the videogames industry of innovation, even around control schemes (see Splinter Cell’s mousewheel-driven movement speed, or the low/high profile system in Assassin’s Creed), often the best control setups are those which stick with what we know.  While there’s much to be said for reinventing the wheel, there’s a pretty good reason why the wheel remains in use – it’s damn good at what it does, and sometimes there’s just no need to mess with it.  Moreover, a new control scheme represents a risk in that players are going to need to learn how to use them before playing.  While all games have a learning curve, of course, making the player try something unconventional input-wise when he or she would really just sit down and play the game can be a detriment to the user experience.  There’s a good reason so many strategy games stick to left-click -> select and right-click -> move, and why so many RPGs use keys like J for Journal, L for Log, or why WASD is now ubiquitous in PC games – not only do they make sense, but they’re established methods for doing things in those genres, and players are familiar with them.

However, this point doesn’t just extend to what users know from prior games – it also extends to what they know about reality.  One of the reasons the controls in Resident Evil can feel so alien and so cumbersome to users isn’t so much because the button mapping is all that wrong, but because the way the player interacts with the game world in Resident Evil feels completely divorced from any reality he or she may know.  Put simply, we know how human beings can move, what speeds they can run at, how fast they can turn, how quickly they can react… yet Resident Evil chooses to ignore all of that intuitive knowledge about the real world that everyone knows, and decides to give the player a completely different set of limitations which can only be understood through repeated trial and error.  While the zombies may have an excuse (we know zombies are slow, plodding, and clumsy, after all), Chris Redfield is supposed to be an elite S.T.A.R.S. operative – unless their standard equipment package comes complete with concrete shoes, that fundamental disconnect between what we know about the world and what is presented in the game is extremely unsettling, and can even be enough to turn someone off of a game for good.

That said, there are definite exceptions to this rule.  One of my biggest pet peeves, as a shooter fan, is the inclusion of mouse smoothing, acceleration, and other related practices in first-person shooters, especially when it’s implemented in a limited fashion.  Battlefield: Bad Company 2, for example, features fairly precise mouse controls, but, when piloting a tank, or carrying a heavy machine gun, the sensitivity and acceleration of the mouse suddenly changes significantly.  Presumably, this is done in order to more effectively establish the fact that the player is carrying a heavy object, or has taken control of a powerful machine, and so the developer has attempted both to impart that same kinetic advantage of gamepads, and to help balance the game.  While a lot of this comes down to preference, I feel that in a completely skill-based setting, these sorts of artificial limitations on controls take the emphasis off of player skill and relegate the player’s role to a component in a rock-paper-scissors equation.  The sluggishness may be a bit more realistic, but when feeling the player is left with is “the controls screwed me over”, I feel that realism can take a backseat, especially in what is otherwise a fairly arcadey game.  Similarly, I don’t think fighting game fans would be very impressed if you told them that suddenly there would be a 0.2 second delay between one input and the next.

Conclusion

The most important thing to keep in mind when conceptualizing control schemes is the question of “what is the most intuitive and natural way to perform a function, bearing in mind the physical capabilities and nature of our input devices”.  The fact is that, while there is no true “right answer” to building controls, keeping in mind some of the ideas expressed above can help build control schemes that get players into a game, rather than out of it.  And perhaps, more importantly, it will help to avoid those artificial barriers that hurt immersion and defy existing player expectations in the worst of ways.（source:gamasutra）