作者：Brandon Karratti

我曾经有过这样的想法。虽然它并不新颖，但我发现它有益于我的游戏设计。

电影制片人在组合场景时都有一套基本规则。总在最后一刻开场，而结局总是很匆忙。只要有必要，重要场面会不断上演。一幕好的场景并不需要过多“物品”来衬托。

在游戏中，尤其是采用电影结构的开端方式，我发现其中最精彩的画面也是相同原理。进入游戏，玩家沉浸在具有感染力的时刻，然后继续发展，不会无故拖沓画面进程。当然，关于这一架构的操作说法不一，并非每个场景都会吸引玩家，但是有些场景却会给玩家带来不同于其它媒介的体验。

然而，游戏的目标只是希望玩家可以享受到精彩的场景？只是简单地让他们被动地享受游戏进程？我觉得并非如此。

当我们制作游戏，尤其是带有故事情节的游戏时，我们常常忘记，我们的用户不仅仅是个观众。他是个积极的参与者。他们是创作进程的一部分，他们的游戏体验由技能、看法、理解和游戏背景决定。

玩家不是观众。是个演员。

玩家并非一些无足轻重的配角，他们是主角，是主人公，是电影明星。他是所有剧组人员迎合的对象，要确保他们满意，理解特定场景的目的，并能完善地配合台词、节奏和布局。

虽然这种比喻有点夸张，但这个想法常体现在任何一款游戏的设计过程中。如果有人问“谁是游戏的观众？”他其实是在问“谁将扮演这个角色？”

在一些游戏中，某些角色比其他角色更具动态，角色的性质会随着玩家的不同而发生戏剧性的变化。比如在《愤怒的小鸟》中，一个“严肃”的玩家即使达到目的，仍会力求节省资源。她不会浪费小鸟数量，相反，她会瞄准目标，快速发射。她会严谨地使用技巧，保证万无一失。

相反，比较随意的玩家可能只想单纯地发射小鸟，而不管浪费多少数量。也许他只是想知道这只小鸟会飞多远。他在游戏中扮演喜剧演员角色，他尽量把小鸟抛得很高，然后看着它们落地，而这也将影响他的行动抉择。

那么哪种方式才是正确的？

这要看你是在问谁。如果你去问设计师，他可能会说第一位玩家的做法是“正确的”，因为他按照设计师的思路体验游戏。设计师在此就是导演，他只会要求玩家停止游戏，并重头开始。

我想，当这种设计师看到自己的游戏被“错误地”体验时，他们会感到沮丧。

braid(from braid-game.com)

当我去年在圣丹斯观看《Indie Game：The Movie》时，我被Jonathan Blow及其游戏《Braid》的那段描述感动了。我个人喜欢《Braid》。它不仅呈现出精彩的故事情节，带有动人有趣的内容，而且它还有一个迷人有趣的机制，其中利用时间流逝同叙事情节的结合。

Blow表示他对别人无法理解他试图传递的信息表示失望。

我可能不会注意那些你沤心沥血所制作出的内容，这正是互动媒体的一个关键难题。当你制作出一款游戏时，你需要玩家进行体验，你可能要面临他们不理解，或者压根不在意你试图传递的“信息”的风险。

有多少演员看起来像是在电影中过个场，只是为了“片酬而在影片中露个脸”？

我怀疑，许多电影制片人会聘请糟糕、动机不明、牵强的演员进行拍摄，发生这类情况可能就会影响整部作品的反响。

同样，如果玩家无法符合设计师设计的技能、习惯或成熟性要求的话，游戏也会陷入同一境况。

我知道自己论述了不少，但是我要再次重申这一观点：

玩家就是演员。他同开发者一起参与制作体验，开发者甚至应该鼓励这种做法。心中常惦记玩家的角色，也许这会对设计创意产生积极的影响。这意味着玩家就是最佳演员？有时是，当并非总是如此。玩家是否会突然理解那就是他/她的角色？可能不会。这有利于我们设计出更出色的体验吗？

我想会的，我们终会看到这种情况的发生。（本文为游戏邦/gamerboom.com编译，拒绝任何不保留版权的转载，如需转载请联系：游戏邦）

Playing an Actor

by Brandon Karratti

This is just a thought that I’ve been having. It may not be new, but it’s a certain mentality that I’ve found to help as I’ve been designing games of my own.

Coming from a film background, there was a general rule when you’re trying to put together a scene. You start the scene at the last possible moment that you can, and you end it as soon as you can. Powerful scenes go on as long as they need to, they have something important to say/do, and then they move on. There’s no need to pad a good scene with more “stuff” just for the sake of padding. (Take a look at some of the scenes in an Aaron Sorkin piece sometime. He’s a master of this kind of stuff.)

With games, especially those that take their cues from film structures, I find that the most powerful scenes follow the same ideas. You get in, immerse the player in a powerful moment, and you move on, not dawdling over the scene for no reason. Of course, there are many different interpretations of how to handle this, and not every scene is going to hit home with every player, but there are many things that do work, that give the player an experience unlike that which can be found in other medias.

But is the goal in a game simply to have the player observe an interesting scene? Is it simply to allow them to passively enjoy it? I don’t think so.

When making games, especially those with any type of narrative behind them, we sometimes forget that our audience is not simply viewing our creations. Instead, they are an active participant. They are part of the creative process, and their experience with a game is shaped just as much by their own skill, their own interpretations, their own understandings, and their own gaming history as it is by anything that the developers have done to put the game in front of them.

The player is not a member of the audience. The player is an actor.

And not only some background player – The player is the main character. He’s the main protagonist, he’s the millionaire movie star. He’s the one that the crew panders to in order to make sure that he’s satisfied, he understands his motivation for a particular scene, and that his lines, pacing, and blocking is good.

While that does seem a little dramatic, this thinking can often inform much about the design process in any particular game. When someone asks “Who is the audience?” for a game, what they’re really asking is “Who is going to be playing this role?”

In some games, the role is much more fluid than others, but yet the interpretation of the role can change drastically based on who’s playing. Take something as simple as Angry Birds. A more “serious” actor may take her role as that of a general, conserving resources while still achieving the goal. With this role in mind, she’s not going to waste troops, but instead will look to deliver the crucial blow as quickly as possible. She takes her craft seriously, and looks to do it “right.”

A more casual player, instead, may simply want to throw the birds about, regardless of how many it takes. Perhaps he’ll just launch one to see how far it will go. He’s playing a comedic role, looking to launch the birds as high as he can, to watch them crash down, and this will influence his acting decisions.

Which is right?

It depends on who you ask. If you ask the designer, the first is doing it “right” because he’s playing the game in the manner in which it was designed to be played. He’s the director shouting “cut!” and telling the player to start back at one and to take it from the top.

Therein, I think, lies the frustration that some designers feel when they see their game being played “wrong.”

While watching the film “Indie Game: The Movie” last year at Sundance, I was struck by the portrayal of Jonathan Blow in regards to his game, Braid. Personally, I love Braid. It not only has an excellent story with a powerful, and interesting interpretation, but also an engaging, interesting set of mechanics utilizing the flow of time which blends well with the narrative itself.

I found it so interesting the comments that Blow made regarding his disappointment that some people didn’t understand what he was trying to convey, especially when overlayed with videos such as the one by Soulja Boy just messing with the time mechanics.

While I can relate with watching something that you’ve put your heart and soul into being disregarded, or even being (in your eyes) disrespected, that’s kind of the crux of interactive media. When you create something that is meant to be experienced by allowing another person to act within your creation, you run the risk of them either not understanding, or just not caring about the “message” that you’re attempting to convey.

How many actors seem like they’re just going through the motions on certain films, just “showing up for a paycheck?”

I doubt many filmmakers set out to make a film with a terrible, unmotivated, or unconvincing actor, but sometimes it happens, and that affects the entire impact of the production.

A game can sometimes fall into the same kind of rut, especially when you have a player who doesn’t match the skill, mindset, or maturity that the designer intended the game for.

I realize that I’ve wandered a little, but let me reiterate my main point one more time:

The player is an actor. He is a participant in creating the experience alongside the developer, and he’s even paying to do so. By keeping that role of the player in mind, perhaps that can better influence our design decisions. Will that mean he’s the best actor ever? Sometimes, but not always. Is that suddenly going to make the player understand that that is his/her role?

No, probably not. Can it help us to better design the experiences that we’re creating?

I think so, but we’ll see.

Now, back to one, let’s run it again.(source:gamasutra)