Edge

I remember gray late summer days in London, little over a decade ago. I was a young, keen graduate, out of pocket, desperately looking for my first job in the game industry. A friend of mine had suggested I check out Edge magazine because they have job ads in the back. I went to Virgin Megastore, on Oxford Street near Center Point, taking the side entrance off Tottenham Court Road for the game section, and bought the magazine – I even remember the cover of the issue. I applied for a job advertised in the back and landed myself an interview. During that fateful meeting I was even told “I see you got our job ad from Edge, which speaks in your favour”. I landed that job, which started my career in video games. The company has since gone bankrupt, but it got me my first, all-important break and I guess I have Edge magazine to thank for that in some way.

Aside from being a helpful resource Edge magazine has also proven itself to be in possession of excellent taste and keen insight, as they have seen fit to nominate this here blog for “website of the month” in the January issue (#183).

I am indebted, in more ways than one.

Best of the West

With all this defeatist talk of the difficulty Western games have in Japan, I thought it might be time to have a gander at those mythical titles that actually have migrated successfully. Game markets are notoriously subject to the ebb and flow of ever changing public wants, so this “all time” examination may not bear too much significance these days. But with enough spurious chin-stroking on my part we may learn a few tricks Western developers can employ in their quest to crack that Eastern nut. This list is far from complete, but does represent some of the bigger successes. Sales figures may not be definitive, but ballpark figures will be good enough for this exercise.

Tetris (Gameboy)
Total sales Japan 4.2 million
Total sales world: 30.2 million
Though initially handled by Nintendo (of America) and licensed by Henk Rogers’ BPS, this game is undeniably as non-Japanese as its affable creator Alexey Pajitnov.
The universal appeal of Tetris is legendary, of course, and it spawned many imitations and variations, also in Japan. It succeeded both thanks to not being tied down to specific character design as well as its Russian atmosphere, which speaks to the natural curiosity and affinity a lot of Japanese have with Foreignland. The fact it was a pack-in for the immensely popular Gameboy of course also helped.

Donkey Kong Country (SNES)
Total sales Japan 2.9 million
Total sales world: 9.3 million
Donkey Kong Country 2 (SNES)
Total sales Japan 2.2 million
Total sales world: 5.1 million
Donkey Kong Country 3 (SNES)
Total sales Japan 1.7 million
Total sales world: 3.5 million
Rare’s Donkey Kong Country series is probably the best example of a Western title making a splash in Japan. Nintendo’s involvement was of course a factor, as were the ahead of its time graphics and traditional platforming gameplay. Donkey Kong as a character may also have boosted its popularity, as it is still around today very much in the shape of Rare’s effort, though with varying levels of success, as in, for example the following:

Donkey Kong 64 (N64)
Total sales Japan 1 million
Total sales world: 5.2 million
The fact this sold about half of any of the DKC series speaks to the waning popularity of the DK series, but all things considered it still sold significant numbers for a Western-made product. Rare, as a company, doesn’t enjoy as much of a reputation as it did in the West, where they were heralded as the torch-bearer for, what was then known as “Japanese-quality games made in the West”. By the release of this title they were already slipping and it is likely it was only the Donkey Kong IP which carried it to modest success.

Crash Bandicoot (PS1)
Total sales Japan 0.9 million
Total sales world: 6.8 million
Crash Bandicoot 2 (PS1)
Total sales Japan 1.3 million
Total sales world: 7.5 million
Crash Bandicoot 3: Warped (PS1)
Total sales Japan 1.4 million
Total sales world: 7.1 million
For a title which looks and plays like a very Western game, the Crash Bandicoot series overall performed admirably in Japan. Crash of course famously was never accepted as a platform mascot. However, back in the day Sony spent a king’s ransom on marketing the original Crash Bandicoot in Japan, as its success was seen as vital to the new Playstation brand. Though 1.4 million units sounds like an admirable sales figure, especially for a Western game in Japan, when offset against Sony’s massive advertising budget it could have performed better.
Also, Crash did have some excellent and simple design, which made it easier for Japanese players to appreciate. Though a fully 3D game, graphically speaking, it harked back to easier times with levels that were basically 2.5 in essence. There was little chance of players getting lost or disoriented or for them to have to battle a shitty camera system. All these elements have slowly disappeared from the series over time, making it hard to imagine any Crash title being able to make any significant impact in Japan today; the character himself just isn’t strong enough to carry it.

Sim City (SNES)
Total sales Japan 0.7 million
Total sales world: 1.9 million
By mere virtue of the success of the console, a lot of SNES titles were sold, which meant statistically speaking some Western games would sell in Japan better than they probably would these days. Sim City, again, is one of those boundary-breaking titles that spoke to a wide audience. Graphics were functional at best but avoided, again, the difficulties of foreign character design. As it was something very new at the time it also spoke to the Japanese market’s hunger for innovation or at least for new experiences. This trend is still visible today when, even as it’s the sequels that sell best, the market still demands a certain level of innovation and any title that simply delivers more of the same without adding a few new touches will simply not succeed. This then was the first city simulator that spawned sequels and spin-offs and, as a first, must have spoken to the Japanese.

Banjo Kazooie (N64)
Total sales Japan 0.5 million
Total sales world: 3.6 million
Another Rare entry and this one a title which is held with many fond regards by Western gamers of a certain age (like me). It was a great platformer, yet its characters were relentlessly Western. Cutesy and colourful does not automatically equate to character design fit for Japanese consumption.

What’s most interesting is that aside from Tetris none of the titles above really enjoy the cult status they have, somewhat, in the West. Though Nintendo continues to exploit the revamped Donkey Kong character, his debut title (DKC) is just an old game, rather than a fondly remembered classic. Banjo and Kazooie failed to make a splash as merchandisable characters. Crash equally never captured the hearts of the Japanese audience to the extent of national fame, though the continuing downward trend of the series’ quality may be a contributing factor. I’d say these characters can be filed under “recognizable” rather than “beloved”.
Tetris, conversely, continues to see new leases of life with new versions being released constantly and some very well-made mobile phone adaptations. That one is a true classic.

What about some more recent, high-profile titles?

Grand Theft Auto 3 (PS2)
Total sales Japan 0.3 million
Total sales world: 11.6 million
Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas (PS2)
Total sales Japan 0.4 million
Total sales world: 14.8 million
It took quite a while before Capcom swallowed this bitter pill and dared to release this western game in Japan, after most other publishers had shied away from it. Did it pay off? Well, they probably made their money back from localization, and all things considered it didn’t do that badly, but in a global sense it was a failure. The whole sandbox attitude is not something the Japanese gamer enjoys, let alone the urban, hood, gansta violence. Some Japanese youth like the gansta-rap image and even do their own hilarious imitations, but the idea of battering hookers wasn’t as big a hook as it was in the west, apparently.
True to expectations the title did cause a bit of a storm in a teacup with local politicians clamping down on 18+ rated games, like these (notice the triangular warning on the package shown above). The CERO rating, as it is here, is now in force in most places by having these particular titles separate from the regular ones, on a shelf with ample notification of their mature content. Some shops even go so far as to remove the covers from the boxes and replacing them with photocopied pieces of paper containing the title of the game and a short explanation of its contents. I think it is even against the law to sell such titles to underage customers, though that may come down to local governments. If anything the release of GTA in Japan proves that Japanese politicians are as keen to jump on vote-winning bandwagons as their foreign colleagues.

Halo 3 (360)
Total sales Japan 85k
Total sales world: 6 million
Much has been made of Halo 3’s launch, extending even its reach to Japan. The figures, however, speak for themselves, showing a mere tiny percentage of market share. Sure, for a first-person shooter on a badly selling console it’s not a bad figure, even if it pales compared to global sales, but it’s not good either. Microsoft, of course, fully anticipated this, knowing full well its only market in Japan was the super-double-hard-core, and subsequently didn’t go as batshit insane with its marketing spending as it did in the US. Sure, there were a few posters and advertising spreads in Famitsu for weeks on end, but any more publicity would not have made the, apathetic average Joe-san give a damn about first-person shooters on an expensive console.

Honourable mention
Parappa the Rapper (PS1)
Total sales Japan 1.4 million
Total sales world: 1.9 million
Though this game was very much designed and produced in Japan, it deserves a special mention as one of its main attractions was the design and character work by American artist and overall genius Rodney Greenblat. With Parappa he did the impossible, which is for a Westerner to create a style and set of characters that spoke directly to the Japanese, leading to a period of fame with merchandise, anime and even a café, which have all but subsided over the past few years. As a rule, with a few notable exceptions, Western character design faces a huge cultural chasm to cross, but Mr. Greenblat bridged it with aplomb. You gotta believe!

In conclusion it’s difficult to nail down any specific definitive tactic that can guarantee success in Japan. Even though Mr. Greenblat hit the bull’s eye with Parappa going for original character design is by far the most challenging. Having a game that avoids character can offer an advantage, like Tetris or Sim City, but this too is a gamble, as your average Japanese player does like his avatars on screen to be a certain kind of cool or cute. I think the best lessons can be learned from Donkey Kong; take an existing Japanese IP, improve on it or simply license it, have direct input from the locals, in this case Nintendo, and keep your fingers crossed. This of course doesn’t maximize returns, as you’ll be paying license fees and sharing profits, as well as signing over a chunk of creative freedom. But in the end it would appear the safest route into Japan.

Sources: VG Chartz, Enterbrain, MediaCreate, the mind of JC Barnett

Say chee-zu!

Pursuant to a recent rant regarding my status as a foreigner in Japan, where I boldly claimed to be an active and contributing part of society regardless of the status the Japanese themselves and some very deluded foreigners may lend me, the government here has made it a policy to distrust foreign nationals as a matter of course. As of this November 20th any person who is neither Japanese nor a diplomat must have his fingerprints and photograph taken when entering the contry, in pretty much the same way America treats its visitors with a dose of hostile suspicion and demeaning examination.

Fingerprinting foreigners in Japan was a custom that was thankfully done away with before my time here, yet it has now reared its ugly head again. The Japanese themselves cannot be printed unless they are suspected of a crime, but foreigners’ civil liberties must take a dive if they have the temerity to visit or live in Japan. Any future plans my readers may have of coming over here had better include a lengthy wait at Narita airport customs, as you will be queuing up with the masses so they can make sure you’re not a terrorist or criminal or, well, Japanese.

Funnily enough it’s domestic terrorism that is the bigger problem in Japan, though in light of today’s increasingly paranoid and hostile nationalism evoked by illegal invasions and terror attacks, it was predictable Japan, like many other countries, would fall for this placebo tactic. Let’s face it, it’s not so much about protecting the public but handing more power and information to the rulers, whom, in Japan, I have no power to elect.

Preceding this new policy by a few weeks was an initiative by Hello Work, Japan’s cutely named governmental employment services, who put out a request to companies to register their foreign employees. This, I had presumed, was usual, as I’ve worked in other countries where at the very least a photocopy of your passport and vise should be registered to make sure you’re not there illegally. But what struck me as patronizing was the idea that it was for my own protection as it was an initiative to “make sure employers aren’t exploiting foreign workers”. Sure it was. I would have had much less of a problem with it if they had just stated they wanted to take a census and keep an eye on all us dirty foreigners in Japan, which it most obviously was.

Some more conservative scaremongers may claim that fingerprinting and having to show your foreigner registration card on demand shouldn’t be an issue for law-abiding citizens. As a lefty I claim it’s a slippery slope and an unnecessary, xenophobia-inducing one at that. Still, compared to other countries immigrants in Japan don’t have it that bad. But saying it’s worse elsewhere is no excuse to condone the slow disintegration of our already slim civil liberties as citizens living in Japan and contributing to Japan’s society, culture and economy.

A final tip for future tourists: though Japan’s attitude to service and customers is superb, second to none, true to a global tradition airport customs staff are hand-picked from that specific grouping of morose, humourless sociopaths, and any attempt to, jokingly or not, sabotage the mugshot and fingerprinting process or any vocal protestation on the day is not advisable! I recommend taking the traditional appearance of a bumbling, friendly, polite, attentive and accommodating fool that so many travelers adopt at airports as it is the easiest way to get through the whole sorry mess and start your holiday in earnest. Keep the complaining and bitching, that air travel so richly deserves, for the pub and an audience less inclined to bang you up for days for not cooperating with the humiliating and dehumanizing process of proving you’re not a terrorist.

Beaujolais Nouveau Day

On November 9th, the first shipment of this year’s Beaujolais Nouveau arrived at Narita airport with a fair amount of pomp and noise. The 3,500 cases, containing roughly 40,000 bottles were held until, under French law, it was allowed to go on sale this November 15th. In total 8.4 million bottles are expected to be imported.

As with all fads there was a bit of a hoopla around last week's first sales. Pretty much all alcohol outlets had special stands with plastic cups for tasting. Small stands were erected in the entrance halls of department stores so customers didn’t have to go downstairs to the food show to be hit in the face with French. I went to a central Tokyo department store to pick me up a bottle. A small crowd of mostly women and young couples were milling around. As I stood in line for a taster I could see the angsty look in the face of the women dishing out the samples, quickly replaced by relief when I talked to her in Japanese. She gave me a thimble-full of Taillevent, which was hardly enough for a taste, but I ended up buying a bottle anyway. It’s a cheeky little wine, but I prefer something a little more mature and full-bodied.

Though Japan isn’t as hung up on wine as a lot of European countries are, there is some interest. Wines are becoming increasingly popular amongst women, but we have thankfully yet to see any real armchair snobbery, or, sadly, supermarkets offering affordable yet good wines. For the good stuff you need to go to specialist shops or Shinjuku’s very much imposing Isetan’s winery which is laid out like a jewelry store and has attendants in evening suits and white gloves as well as detailed information on heritage and taste for all the wines on offer. It’s the kind of place where the cash register is hidden from view, which makes it look exclusive.

This increased interest in wine however did not help sales of EA’s “Sommelier DS”, which apparently tanked badly. Tto coincide with the release of this year’s wines, also saw the new “Wine no Hajimekata DS” by Square-Enix. Having a little more of a game element to it, it may fare better, but one wonders if people care enough. That said, it’s young women who like the wines and it’s mostly young women who love their DS, so it may be a marriage made in heaven. The special edition comes with a bottle of wine so I presume that would make it an Adults Only title. I wonder if they have to put it amongst the porn and gore games in the shops. That’s a thought.

If you like your wine you’re pretty well served in Japan. Obviously you must avoid pub wines, which come in the flavours “red” or “white”, both chilled to beyond taste, which considering their pedigree is probably a blessing in disguise. But there are plenty of shops that sell a large variety of wines, both imported and local, with Yamanashi prefecture being the most famous for Japanese wines (grape, not rice). And as it’s not so important in Japan you can easily get away with knowing bugger all about wines without people turning their nose up to you. If, like me, you just like to drown in sorrow, your average sub-grand yen imports from the local supermarket will serve you well. Kampai!

The Big Dipper

There is a well-documented problem with longevity amongst game industry careerists. Part of it is the frivolous nature of our products. When you’re meeting with friends who are lawyers, doctors, cancer curers or crime-fighting superheroes it always feels a bit sad when you tell them you’re still making kids’ toys, especially when you’re getting older. It’s also partly due to the punishing work “ethics” and generally lower wages. This is why most companies advertising for staff stipulate the applicant must be “passionate about games”, because, let’s be honest, the only real rewards you are going to receive are self-made.

In Japan it works a little bit differently. It’s often just seen as a desk job, as I suppose it is, and any real chance of promotion comes with longevity at the company. If you’re in your thirties and have been employed at the same place for, say, a decade, you’ll be promoted, whether you’re suitable or not. This partly stems from Japan’s history of life-time employment which, as I made clear at the start of the sentence, is history. Any person who still claims this as a fact of Japanese life needs to move out of the 80s. That said, job hopping is still very much a developing skill. Employers expect the employees to expect life-time employment, but that’s where it ends.

Eventually a lot of people end up leaving the industry, globally speaking, as employers are keen to hire enthusiastic graduates rather than keep their senior, and therefore more expensive, staff. Only those few who are extremely lucky enough to find a place of employment ideally suited to them find a new lease of life and stay the course. This is pretty much what it comes down to, life in the game industry: job-hopping from one place to another, or being made routinely redundant, until you find a place where there is an ideal marriage of wages, quality of life, projects and people. Ideal for you, that is. Alternatively you could be blissfully aware of your own incompetence and stick it out at a place where your employment is safe, possibly due to longevity or having incriminating photos of your boss at hand.

In the meantime most of us just ride the rollercoaster of highs and lows until we are sick of it and get a real job. Personally, and I think this may be endemic, I find my lows getting lower and my highs less and less high as time progresses. Soon enough the highs can’t counter the lows anymore and then I’ll have some difficult decisions to make.

The reason so many people get burned out, apart from the obvious crunch time mentality, is, as I see it, twofold. Firstly the job requires a creative mind, yet one hardly gets any opportunities to let that creativity run riot. This is the “prissy artist syndrome” where the increasingly technical tasks start to eat away at your Muse. You want to go mad and create insane characters and fantastical worlds, yet most of the time you have to polish, fix, adjust, change, bug-check, implement. These are necessary tasks and all part of the job, but when you’re feeling low these activities can really get on your goat.

The second reason is one the employers need to take the blame for. The aforementioned passion that is, apparently, a job requirement, is mostly advertised to get young, keen people to work for little money and do unpaid overtime willingly. It’s hard to make employees work extra time for no extra pay or reward other than, maybe, a few days holiday at the end of a project of a duration that usually doesn’t reflect the countless hours you’ve worked for free, but if you convince them it’s “for the good of the game” you usually can get people excited enough to comply. However, this is a double-edged sword. Aside, of course, from overworking your staff and decreasing their effectiveness, you are also chipping away at their morale. “Wow,” a keen applicant may think, “I am passionate about games! They want passionate people! I can give them all my ideas, I can really help make this a better game!” But no, there is usually little room for employees to contribute to the extent they believe they will be able to, so this false expectation of being deeply involved turns into bitter resentment when leads and bosses dictate what needs to be done with little regard to the ideas of the “passionate employee”.

In the end you have turned from passionate artist to competent but tired craftsman until you become a journeyman, doing your hours for the pay with very little enthusiasm. At that point you think to yourself “hey, I can work my hours with little enthusiasm elsewhere, for much better pay!” and you get a job in banking.

Of course, the many people that do stay in the industry before their use-by date are lucky. They end up somewhere where they feel valued, where they feel adequately compensated and can work on things they like. They are also an immense asset, having acquired more knowledge than the five graduates their wages would easily pay for. But these days finding such a place is a little like winning the lottery.

With increasingly expensive development cycles and a staffing problem the traditional decline in morale of seniors is something that should be addressed. However useful keen and cheap graduates are, they are no substitute for a weathered veteran. At the very least you need a few of them aboard. It’s a shame to lose all these people to the better paid, better scheduled and better rewarded jobs. I wonder what could be done about that.

On the other hand…maybe it’s our industry’s self-regulating culling process. Get rid of the chaff, out with the old. I mean, if Portal has taught us anything, not desert related, it’s that it’s the new guard, the young turks, who will bend new life into game design while the old fogeys keep harping on about nicer-looking guns and better ragdoll physics. It takes a team of seniors to come up with Halo 3, but it was a pack of students that came up with Portal. Bah humbug. What do I know? Maybe it’s time to be put out to pasture.

All aboard the Nintendo gravytrain!

There is no excellence without labor. One cannot dream oneself into either usefulness or happiness. - Liberty Hyde Bailey

I used to think the most fun I’ve ever had was watching our pet cats emerge from general anesthetic after their vasectomy, seeing them walk around the garden like little drunk, emasculated zombie hobos, propping themselves against trees and falling over hilariously But then Nintendo gone and done and went and did finally release Super Mario Galaxy and it has totally turned my appreciation of fun on its head.

Of all the stunningly excellent games we have been able to enjoy over the last few months and that are on the release lists for the coming holiday season it’s only Super Mario Galaxy that I feel warrants a perfect score, with the only improvement that could be made at this point in time is to have more of it.

The sad thing is that releases like this usually give rise to the old developer complaint that “only Nintendo makes money on Nintendo consoles”. And this is true to an extent. With licensing and production fees any third party title that is released on a Wii or DS will also generate an income for Nintendo, in pretty much the same way it does for any of the consoles. However, the implication is that Nintendo has some kind of monopoly over sales hits on their own consoles. They do, apparently, but the reason as to why is hardly a mystery.

Mario is of course a very strong IP that is hard to compete with, but it only became so because of the continued care Nintendo seem to pay to its products. They spend time and money on doing it right and it shows. You are pretty much guaranteed a Nintendo developed product is going to deliver a standard of quality, because it has always done so in the past. If anything we can thank Sonic for proving the idea that an IP only remains strong with continued care and support. If you’re going to hastily develop a game with a small team, low budget and tight deadline then obviously you’ll never be able to compete. Yet because so many publishers and developers have accepted the notion that it’s impossible to compete with Nintendo software that they are unwilling to invest heavily in games developed for Nintendo hardware, thus proving their own preposterous hypothesis. You’ll need to invest a lot of time, money and talent into any game if you’re aiming for quality, let alone one that has to compete with Zelda or Mario, yet publishers keep on rushing out substandard titles and complaining how they don’t sell.

With the increasing costs of development for current generation consoles, the Xbox 360 and Playstation 3, (funny how Microsoft Word underlines that name with a red squiggly line) publishers have gotten into the mindset of cross-platform development, using one console, usually the 360, as a base from which to easily and quickly generate different SKUs. This is why some of the Playstation 3 titles look no better than the 360 versions. This is also why Wii titles from this heritage look so rubbish. They are simply toning down the graphics and shoehorning in a motion sensor control. It’s a natural progression, I guess,, but by now it should be obvious that Wii titles require their own approach and can’t simply be extracted from cross-platform source.

Many complain about how weak the Wii is in terms of power. It is indeed not as fast or big as its competitors but most developers use it as an excuse for their ugly games. Yet Super Mario Galaxy is gorgeous. It has a more solid, beautiful look to it than most Xbox 360 or Playstation 3 titles. This is because they have a little thing called “art direction”. Rather than aiming for realism, bloom and normalmaps they aim for design, something Nintendo, and the wider Japanese industry, seems to be petty good at. Obviously, having a more intimate knowledge of the hardware and probably better technical support than any 3rd party developer helps, but to condemn the Wii for its visuals is misdirecting your ire; blame bad art direction instead or, more accurately, uninspired art direction. Technology doesn’t make pretty pictures, design does.

Gameplay-wise Nintendo games also shine out. Sure, it’s hard to compete with that but most developers just seem to give up, in a defeatist, exasperated way. Has Nintendo somehow hired all the truly creative minds in our entire industry? I hardly think so. There is some amazing talent strewn across the globe. That inspirational spark of genius that often ignites Nintendo-made games can be fostered elsewhere, given the right working environment. That is to say, nurture your talent and avoid design by committee. I’m pretty sure every designer in the world has a few genius ideas of how to utilize the Wii’s control system, yet publishers are usually unwilling to allow these to be followed up on until some other company has already proven it to be a success.

So my message to developers and publishers is, in no small part due to my desire for more good Wii games to play, to make an effort! Put your better team on Wii titles. Develop them from the ground up, and don’t just make inferior ports of multiplatform titles. And stop crying over your spilled milk; the reason Nintendo seems to be ruling the Nintendo market is largely due to the lack of any real competition. With the surprisingly huge Wii install base, even if Nintendo earns a slice of your pie when you release a Wii title, there is a huge market of hungry gamers out there, gagging for quality products. Stop complaining and step up!

Fallingu Behindo

I have often stated nobody in Japan speaks English. This is of course not entirely true, but it’s a handy guide for aspiring immigrants. You really need to make the effort to learn Japanese or you’ll face a lot of frustration and hurt your opportunities. But some people do speak English here, some very well, even. Despite learning it as part of the standard curriculum at school most Japanese simply have too little knowledge or skill in English to use it and any proficiency is mainly due to foreign exchange experiences or personal interest. But even in the latter case some people go to English language schools for months and still can’t master the language to a level where it becomes useful. Sure, a lot of people will be able to get the wide gist of a piece of English text if absolutely forced to read it, but ordering a cup of coffee is still too difficult.

Like it or not, and even though it’s not a majority language, English has become, due in no small part to technological advances made in the West and the widespread use of the internet, the lingua franca. Most countries’ populations have dealt with the situation admirably, even though English is a notoriously difficult and confusing language. Watch any news item and most people interviewed, wherever they are in the world, speak English at the very least to an extent it is usable and understandable. Except, of course, when it comes to Japanese interviewees who always need to be dubbed and translated. The same goes for the video game industry. Watch any developer interview on, say, Gametrailers and they’ll speak English, be they from Poland, Russia, Sweden, America (where they speak it very well) or France. But not, of course, Japan.

This is not a rant against Japan’s overall inability to learn a language or my own self-made frustrations as a lifer here, but it struck me that this is most definitely a contributing factor to the further falling behind of Japanese game development especially on technical issues.

One of the great aspects of our industry in recent years is the greater freedom with which developers share information. Shows like GDC, sites like Gamasutra as well as many other outlets are great ways for developers to share information on a mutually beneficial basis. And something like, say, Tim Moss’s excellent lecture on data driven systems, once translated and communicated by me to the rest of the team, turns from a lucid and interesting talk into an incomprehensible, childish load of gibberish. Articles of note on Gamasutra, when sent by email to colleagues, end up ignored in the same way I ignore emails, as it is sometimes just too much bother struggling through a text in a language you haven’t mastered, especially when you’re busy.

Also when it comes to the job market Japan is in trouble. There is a constant lack of qualified applicants and little time or money to train graduates to a good standard. Whereas Westerners are pretty free to move from country to country to find the best companies to work for, Japanese companies, due to their lack of English ability, are limited to local hires and those few foreign idiots who learned the language and are willing to take a massive pay cut. It would seem a lot of able applicants are relocating to America because integration is painless and the salaries much better. Japan is missing the boat here, letting good candidates slip through their fingers. The attitude should be "we want the best, so we look for the best!” rather than “do you speak Japanese and are you willing to work for 50% of the salary you could get elsewhere?”

Though some companies do license foreign technology, like Renderware and Unreal Engine, support, though localized, is usually a step removed from the actual developers of the software. This extra degree of separation can add to response time, affecting the development and ultimately the experience of licensed technology. Even then there are on-line communities where questions can be fielded but fewer in Japan than abroad.

It’s not all doom and gloom though. Two of the three major console manufacturers are Japanese and offer pretty good local support. The Japanese market, though shrinking, is at the moment still viable. And with the massive success of the DS and Wii, arguably two pieces of hardware without huge technical power, current working systems in Japan can still be used to profitable effect. Some Japanese developers too have started talking candidly about their technology and practices and there are some local seminars and shows like CEDEC and the like. But when it comes down to numbers these events pale in comparison to foreign shows and with western companies becoming increasingly aggressive in the global market Japan needs to step up and take the challenge, and for this a minimum requirement would seem to be some usable level of English proficiency. It’s not a panacea, but it’s definitely one aspect that is a hindrance to the Japanese game development industry.

When gaijin go doolally

Much has been made of and reported about the apparently annual gaijin Halloween train hijacking of last Saturday. In the event a bitchslap of reveling foreigners all board the Yamanote line train and have a mobile Halloween party, while other commuters try to simply use the train for its intended purpose.

This year’s reported highlights were a predictable backlash and death threats from racist Japanese forum dwellers, partial nudity and the vandalism by a foreign participant towards the train’s lighting system. Plenty of photos and videos to be found on sites like The Japan Probe and others.

I don’t really have a problem with the party itself. It’s not the kind of thing I enjoy, though; standing in a hot, crowded area, drinking lukewarm beer out of cans and shouting “WHOO!” until I’ve convinced myself I’m having fun. Also, the idea that commuters were inconvenienced is somewhat thrilling to me, as my misadventures on trains have been reported on previously. The train is a Hellish place, and as it’s the one location most Japanese forget about social obligation and act like territorial and aggressive berks, I find it a little rich that most of the backlash was about making the ride for non-partiers a rather harrowing affair.

One thing about this whole affair that does stick in my throat is the predictable reaction from the apologists’ corner. There is this widely held belief that any foreigner in Japan is only a “guest” and an ambassador for the entire non-Japanese population of the world. This is one thing I never read in the contract. I’m my own person and have no desire to represent all white-skinned people of the world. I get up for old or sick people on trains (in the unlikely event of me being able to snag a seat) and am always polite to shopkeepers. I try not to act too aggressively or arrogantly at work and in private, and that’s good enough for me. Also, I don’t expect others to be ambassadors either. So some drunken idiot got half naked in a train party; that has little bearing on me. And sure, some Japanese will use this as ammunition against the wider immigrant society as a whole, but those kinds of people will use any old excuse for their xenophobia. If it’s not a drunken train party, it’s the fact a foreigner was ahead of them in some queue, a foreigner buying that last onigiri or a foreigner taking up valuable train space (which I suppose is understandable, all things considered).

Most importantly, I am not a “guest” in Japan. I live here. And though the Japanese government does little to make me feel welcome, like not giving me citizenship papers or a family register, as well as forcing me to be branded a card-carrying foreigner wherever I go, I do pay my taxes, I pay citizenship moneys and pension, I contribute to Japanese products at work and help the Japanese economy by spending all my hard-earned and taxed wages on Japanese products. I own a home in Japan, pay mortgage, basically I have a life here, I live here. I am not a “guest”. Apologists who try to tell me that I am are simply adding fuel to the fire of misconception that unless you are born in a location you have no right to be there, a notion very popular amongst some Japanese.

This is why I am always confused on application forms where I have to fill in my “home country” or when I’m asked “what is your country?” The natural response, as a long-term citizen in Japan, is always “well, Japan, obviously”. When I travel abroad to meet family, coming back to Japan is always “coming home”. Just because I am not Japanese doesn’t mean I can’t live here. Sure, you’ll have to make some concessions to the native populace, in the form of language and customs, if only for your own sanity. It’s no good coming here and pretending you’re in America. I’m happy to note that most of the Japanese people I hang out with don’t necessarily disagree with me.

Just remember, when foreigners speak out against other foreigners in Japan and tell us that they represent all foreigners everywhere and we should behave, they are not speaking for me.

(with apologies to Danny Choo, who runs a kick-arse site and obviously isn’t one of those apologists I’m complaining about)

Japan 2.0

Game journalists and publishers alike are always on the look-out for the Next Big Thing, and apart from graphical prowess, storage capacity and digital delivery one thing that people talk about in hushed, excited tones is a thing hatefully called “games 2.0”, referring to the internet “revolution” called “web 2.0”.

As far as I can understand it, the “2.0” suffix is used to denote a move away from straight content delivery to creating a platform for a community where the users themselves provide the content that keeps it alive. In gaming terms it seems to boil down to “user created content”. In a real sense I suppose titles like Shadowrun could be called “2.0” as without other users on-line there is no game, it being multiplayer only, but the real great white hope for the idea seems to be in Media Molecule’s highly anticipated Little Big Planet for the PS3. In it players not only create their own characters but their own playfield, presumably sharing it with others.

The real question for me, though, is whether Japan is “2.0 compliant”. My first instinct is to say: no, probably not. I really don’t think the average Japanese player is that interested in taking control of the entire game and sharing their creations with others. I even have my doubts it is a big deal for your average Western player either, but at least there is a small hard-core who will love it. But in Japan I am really curious to see how well Little Big Planet will sell.

Obviously the game is saccharine cute, which is a good thing. It has a lot of character and just looks amazing. Don’t let’s focus on the install base of the PS3 but take the game on its own merits. Why might a Japanese player not “get” it? A lot of it comes down, again, to what I proffered before, in that they seem to prefer a more passive experience in Japan. They want to be told a story and be swept along in a finely crafted experience. They want to be the hero, but a designed, fleshed out hero, one with a back-story they can try and identify with. If you give them a sandbox and total freedom to do what they want, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were taken aback and possibly slightly dismayed. “I’ve paid good money for this game, and now I’m expected to make it myself?”

At this point it is all conjecture, of course. Little Big Planet seems to be one of the first in a new breed, so there is little to compare it to, other than maybe RPG Maker. The latter obviously only sold to a small hardcore interested in making their own RPG, and the title left little to the imagination.

Is there maybe a cultural issue involved too? In the West people are encouraged to reach for the sky, to think they are equal to or better than others and hence get this sense that they can do better than any game developers if only given the chance. In Japan there is more social rigidity and the idea a young turk could even think he could outdo a seasoned and older vet is, well, unimaginable. Possibly, though, this may be going one armchair psychology lesson too far.

The one true “2.0” software we have on consoles at the moment is probably Nintendo’s “Mii channel”, combined with “Everybody votes!” But even here it is slightly different. The Miis are obviously meant to be a recreation of your own image, with little extra to make mad fantasy characters. And even though these Miis crop up in a number of games, they don’t dictate how the games are played – they just offer you a little version of yourself to appear in otherwise fully designed experiences.

As for “Everybody Votes!”, a channel where you can create questionnaire questions and vote, locally or globally, on a variety of non-issues, is nothing less than an ingeniously designed marketing data gathering tool, and with that is the one true “web 2.0” application out there. Don’t let’s forget that “web 2.0” survives on databases that collate information and data, from Amazon ratings to eBay rankings that can be used for marketing and other census taking programs. “Web 2.0” isn’t really about user generated content as much as it is about how willingly we give the mega-corporations our personal data willingly and for free, and in that sense Everybody Votes! is ideal.

“Game 2.0” may be a possible future of our industry, but it may not be the best one. At least in Japan they have a natural protection to it: the reluctance to be involved in creating their own entertainment; games are passive experiences.

My mad Tetris summer

There is a sketch on the ever-excellent Mitchell & Webb Sound in which a man enters limbo and two angels take stock of his life. The total accumulation of his life’s work comes down to, as they say “372.651 out of a possible 4,804,560”. Slightly confused he is then informed that that is his score on Solitaire. He spent so much of his short life playing that it must have been his life’s work. “At first we thought you may get some religious ecstasy from the animation at the end, where all the cards fly off the screen, but then we found you usually skipped that part.”
I thank God and all His Angels in Heaven I am not religious because I fear similar rebukes in the afterlife. My particular vice would be Tetris. I shudder to think how much accumulated time I have wasted in my life on that digital drug.

My addiction commenced with the PC version of the Spectrum Holobyte game and reached its peak with the original Gameboy version. It caused not only “Tetris Dreams”, tossing and turning in bed as falling blocks littered my dreamscapes, but also all manner of circulatory problems as I’d take my Gameboy to the toilet and couldn’t stop until I cleared game B on level 9, regardless of what natural processes had brought me there hours previously. These days I fill my wasted hours, on trains, in front of brand shops, lunch times, playing G-mode’s Tetris Red on my mobile phone.

I have spent a small packet on trying various mobile games but they generally suck eggs. Tetris, however, is as perfect on the device as it was on the Gameboy and the single-thumb control works a treat, even with my sausage fingers. G-Mode’s version, one I spot regularly on other people’s phones too, does the job very well, offering two play modes and a local-only ranking table. It was in the hot mad month of August 2007 that I suddenly noticed the little timer on the side of the screen too, where the game kept tally of how long I had been playing that particular game. As I often just played a few minutes here and there and the game could be suspended whenever it was necessary, I often had no idea how long a game would take. When I first noticed it, the display read “3.15.00”, three hours and fifteen minutes. The addict in me was fired up immediately. Here is the report of my marathon session, one game which lasted the larger part of the month.

T 0
I start the game with no expectation. The first Tetris block, the straight row of 4 blocks, that appears is switched to my “hold box”.

T 3.00.00
A momentary lapse causes a Swiss-cheese field that goes right to the top. There is only one clear line between the upper-most row and the top of the field. Blocks that rotate still appear half off-screen. Lady Luck favours me and throws a few lucky pieces my way. Within minutes the field is all the way down again, ready to restart on the Tetrisses. That was too close!

T 5.50.00
I have broken my personal best time. A previous game ended around this time when I foolishly and halfheartedly continued a game whilst not in the mood. The field was fairly clear but I killed it within minutes. I pay extra attention so as not to crumble again this time, which I don’t.

T 6.30.00
I am in a Commuter Altercation, an old salaryman wants a fight with me, but I ignore him. He pushes me needlessly and aggressively tries to shove his face in mine. Again, I ignore him, though the idea of head butting him is both enticing and possible. He gets off the train and gives me a marked look. Despite my self-control my veins are brimful of adrenaline, so close was I to physical violence towards this homunculus. I foolishly try to play some of the game but the shaking in my legs and hands cause me to make some disastrous choices. The field is high and full of holes.

T 7.00.00
Nothing happens. I am in a kind of spiritual Zen state of play and everything goes smoothly. The field stays low, all lines cleared are Tetrisses.

T 7.30.00
I notice with a glance that I have cleared 9000 lines. I mentally set a new goal of reaching, at least, 10,000 lines, which should be possible during the 9th hour.
T 8.00.00
The first half of the ninth hour is pure frustration. The commute during which it took place wasn’t bad at all, so maybe I was just tired after a long day’s work, or maybe I was just unlucky. A half-filled field full of holes just refused to be cleaned up. Clearing a single line here, or a double line there was immediately countered with an implacable S block or a badly managed T block. By the end of the session the field is back to the bottom and I can start aiming at Tetrisses again, but very little progress was made. A real uphill struggle.

T 9.00.00
I notice that some time in the last half hour orso I seem to have passed the 10,000 lines cleared goal I had set myself. What next? Judging by the space in the score box there is room for another 5 or 6 digits, easily. I may be getting ahead of myself a little.

T10.00.00
Paranoia sets in. Though recently it’s been fine, my phone has had the tendency to reset itself periodically for no reason. This would mean a loss of the suspended game and no way to prove my lengthy game. What if that happens now? All this hard and boring work gone. I make a mental note to at least make doubly sure I recharge the phone every day, as a flat battery has the same effect.

T10.30.00
The commute isn’t so bad. There is plenty of space but maybe because I’m tired or maybe because I’m unlucky, or possibly even because I’m bored, the field fills up steadily with badly placed blocks, creating a maze of holes. I’m not worried though. During this mammoth session I have built up to the top countless times only to steadily break it back down again. Now, too, I find myself squeezing blocks right at the very top of the field, but the game isn’t providing me with what I need, so I switch to the Tetris block I have in my hold box when suddenly…

T 10.47.52
…GAME OVER… I am stunned. I actually find myself pulling a face! Apparently, and this is something I wasn’t aware of, when you switch a block from the hold box it doesn’t appear from off the top of the screen but on the first row of the field. Before I can slide it sideways and rotate it into a handy gap, before I can do anything really, the block is anchored and blocking the open gap through which new pieces appear. It’s an instant end to the game.

The next milestone would have been 12 hours, then 24 hours, and to be honest, that prospect didn’t entice me at all. I’m done with Tetris for a while now. It holds little mystery to me anymore.

Some lessons learnt:
- The simplified controls mean there is only one rotate button, which rotates clockwise. As such the pit you build for your Tetrisses should be on the right hand side of the screen. It’s much easier to rotate-flip a Tetris block down there, as a slight obstruction on the left hand side and the clockwise rotation would often snap it short of the hole.
- The highest speed of Tetris Red isn’t that fast. You don’t need to panic until you reach the top 6th of the play field.
- Though it makes you feel dirty, there is no shame in clearing 1, 2 or 3 rows on occasion. Once longevity is your goal, keeping a clear field is the most important thing to achieve, so if you have an unlucky run of blocks, don’t be afraid to use them to clear fewer lines at a go for a while.
- The “hold box” is a Godsend. It again feels like a dirty thing to do for any true Tetris fanatic, but I feel the compromised controls can allow for such a break in tradition. Obviously one keeps Tetris blocks there and you swap them out if the field gets up too high and no Tetris blocks are being offered, or an unlucky block threatens to cause gaps. Priority number one after swapping is to swap a new Tetris block in there as soon as is possible.
- The “hold box” is a curse, as it ended my game all too suddenly by releasing the held block on the first row, rather than from off the top of the screen.
- All clears are RARE! During this marathon game I achieved exactly: none. Occasionally I had just one or two blocks in an otherwise empty field, but an all clear remained elusive.
- Tetris Red has infinite spin. I usually park a 2x2 square in its place and keep rotating it so I have some time to check out the score, lines cleared and time, which require a fair amount of squinting from my part.

And there you go, the proudest achievement of my life. Though I am convinced of my own Tetris skills, or is that “skillz” these days, I know this record can easily be broken by anyone with enough patience. For me, though, it’s a personal milestone in my life of Tetris that any future obituary writer may want to take note of. Hemmingway wasn’t entirely complete in his to do list of manhood. I propose “Raise a child, write a book, fight a bull and play a 10 hour game of Tetris”. I’m a quarter way there already!

Good game designer! Have a Jammie Dodger!

I have been a long-time reader of Gamasutra’s feature articles as they often, a few articles on Japan notwithstanding, present the best, more professional side of industry writing. So, as a consequence, I have read most of Ernest Adams’ mouth-frothing rants against certain game design decisions. And though I can’t help but agree with a lot of the points he makes, it does come across as a bit of an easy rant, especially as it doesn’t address the reasons game designers make certain decisions (publisher or time pressure, new producer megalomania but only occasionally outright incompetence or impoverishment of the imagination). And I know, from bitter personal experience, it’s much easier to bash than to constructively criticize. So inspired by the “Good Ideas” series of posts on the Mainly About Games blog, I decided I too will actively try and look at some of the good design decisions that I wish more companies would pick up on (read: steal).

Graphs!
This is absolutely my favourite new “game design” element that precious few titles are picking up on, but I have already discussed it at length in a previous post, so will only give it a brief mention here.

Achievement Tracking
Eden’s Xbox360 MMOCarPG “Test Drive Unlimited” not only deserves a medal for making me, a staunch hater of racing games, enjoy a racing game, but also for its excellent and detailed achievement completion tracking. Whereas most games simply say things like “win 1000 consecutive games on-line” or “play 100 hours straight without accessing the pause menu” so far I’ve only seen Test Drive offer you a detailed overview of how far you’ve actually gone towards achieving these goals, though I am sure there are some other games that do this too. I, like many others, am much more inclined to reach for that achievement if I know I only have three out of forty more races to win, or that I’ve already bought all but one of the houses. It’s such a simple idea that really makes the achievement system work that it’s fairly obvious most other games just see it as an afterthought. It works so well, in fact, that I now demand it from all my future purchases!

Full-power Replays
I am still surprised how many games don’t allow this. With any game where the player receives upgrades or levels up, usually the enemies do so too and the sense of how powerful you’ve become is totally lost. When I played through Resident Evil 4 for the second time using all my previously bought weapons and the unlimited ammo Chicago Typewriter I had as much fun as I had had struggling through the game for the very first time. This time I knew what I was doing and those zombies that had caused me such stress the first time round were easily dispatched with a few machine gun blasts to the face. It was immensely satisfying and really brought home the feeling that I had grown as a character from the very first time I started up the game. Crackdown too, in a fashion, lets me replay the game at full power, giving me the opportunity to lob pick-up trucks at the face of a boss I had previously only dispatched with a puny machine gun. Why can’t I replay Bioshock with all my powers in tact? It’d be a lot easier, but it would probably still be a lot of fun and would make hunting for those last tonics and audio diaries a much more enjoyable achievement to try and get.

Commentary
Few people set out to make a bad game, but fewer still have the talent, drive and, let’s be frank, funds to elevate their product above the rest and Valve is most assuredly one of the latter. One of the things that helped me get addicted to Valve’s more recent output was the genius inclusion of the commentary bubbles. I’m pretty sure they weren’t the first, but theirs are by far the most interesting. Unlike a DVD commentary developers don’t have to fill a set length of time with inane chatter but have the luxury to choose and pick the interesting aspects to discuss, show techniques used in real-time and allow the player to skip them. Game commentaries educate and inform the interested player, teaches other developers a few tricks, gives great replayability to a game as players like me go through it a second time just to hear them talk and gives a more personal feel to the developer player interaction. I have no idea what Mr. Miyamoto’s contact details are, but I now have Mr. Gabe Newell’s e-mail address and an open invitation to comment on the commentaries. I doubt he really cares that much, but at the moment I feel very special.
Sadly this is a feature most publishers won’t want to spend any time and money on, as they (mistakenly) believe it adds no extra value, but I wish all games could afford to include a commentary. Maybe they can spend the money usually reserved for boring “making of” featurettes and supposed but obviously orchestrated “behind the scenes” vox pops with the marketing department and instead spend it on actual developers telling the player things they might really be interested in.

Oh, and finally:

Portal
Nuff said.

The Art of Character

God, how we all love Japanese characters. That big-eyed, sexually ambiguous, under aged, spiky haired gaggle of personas that inhabit Japanese video games, animation and comics that so many Westerners are trying to copy, rip-off or homage in everything from hilariously bad Dragonball Z fan-art to supposedly professionally funded large development projects. You know exactly what I’m talking about. If you’ve ever opened up a game magazine with a letters page you’ll have seen some kid’s approximation of Link drawn in pencil, or if you’ve ever trawled the internet in a bored minute you will have come across some unintentionally hilarious web comic that is desperately trying to exude “manga”. And if you’ve seen enough of these examples you’ll probably agree with me that they are shit. So shit, in fact, that I’m trying to release a truism into the collective consciousness which I’ll selfishly call Barnett’s Second Law:

“Westerners can’t do manga.”

What brought on this chin-stroking session on the tribulations of Western developers trying to create game characters that appeal to the Japanese market was my surprise at the recent release of My Sims for the Nintendo Wii, published by EA, the mega-corporation and convenient pantomime villain to blame all our industry’s woes on.
It was released in Japan as “Boku to Sim no Machi” (“Me and Sims’ Town” roughly) on September 27th. I had previously read in an interview published somewhere on-line that the team was mostly comprised of people that love Japanese games (whatever that means) and that this was a concerted effort to appeal to Japanese gamers. Looking at the title it’s easy to see this was their goal, and though it’s a very good effort, and I feel a dick for saying this as it’s a very nice game, they just missed the target. This is partly due to a fairly complicated control scheme, despite its outwardly user-friendly appearance, but the real test lies with the characters. My Sims’ characters are just a tad too Western, or rather, they are a Western copy of Japanese style characters and as such they have made a few mistakes.

That isn’t to say they failed, they just didn’t completely succeed. Some of the interaction animations, for example, are spot on, with sudden jumps to mad-eyed faces and general cutesy silliness. But in other areas they are too smooth; the walk cycle is a little too bouncy, the interaction sections a little too smooth, the emotion FX a little too detailed. Though the character creation part is generally excellent, the clothes on offer aren’t quite those that appeal to a Japanese audience, the hairstyles a little too normal and the facial parts too detailed.

As a general rule, which isn’t at all foolproof, and I’m sure keen-eyed readers will be happy to point out the exceptions of which I’m sure there are many, there are three basic types of character: the realistic, the manga and the abstract. It’s interesting to note that the more abstract you go, the less detailing there is, until the characters are almost 2D, graphically designed Dick Bruna-esque icons. The My Sims characters, square-headed as they are with their tapering bodies, lean so far to the abstract of the graph that they really shouldn’t be so detailed in the texture area. If they had accentuated some of the sharp edges and removed some of the detail and shading in the textures, almost like more detailed versions of the Katamari Damacy humanoids, the game would probably* appeal more to the Japanese market.

Loco Roco, Dokodemo Issyo, Crystal Chronicles, Naruto, Dead or Alive, Final Fantasy 12, Biohazard 4, Onimusha 3

On the other end of the scale we see “realistic” characters. I’ve put it in quotes as they aren’t really realistic. They are usually, contrary to popular belief, fairly realistically proportioned, if maybe a little leaner or stretched. Facial features are fairly angular and usually don’t include the “big eyes” we all associate with Japanese manga and anime. Good examples are the Final Fantasy characters, or the Ghost In The Shell guys. Hands and feet are proportioned, noses and brows sharp, with roundness reserved for the young, the girls and the old geezer who usually fulfills the Falstaffian comedy role.

Somewhere, in a fairly narrow band in the middle, we find what we comfortably refer to as “manga”. Eyes are bigger, but usually don’t cover three-quarters of the face. Proportions are exaggerated (especially in the females, ahem) and heads slightly larger.

Characterizations too differ vastly in Japan. Whereas the West seems to want to play hard-bitten underdog single-army war machines with ludicrously hard names, like Trent Bullet or Cutter Hardarse, in Japan you see more effete teenagers with deep running hinterlands, a band of friends and ludicrously faux Western names. One of the biggest mistakes Western developers can make in aiming a title at the West is to copy Asian culture; this almost always fails. Be it a misplaced Japanese lantern in My Sims’ forest, a temple which is more China Town restaurant than Kamakura or a protagonist with a Japanese-sounding name, the only response you’ll elicit from Japanese players is “huh?” Unless you hit the nail absolutely on the head, which as a non-Japanese is almost impossible to do, the Japanese player will only notice the discrepancies, the mistakes and the misplaced. John Romero’s ludicrous “Daikatana”, for example, misreads the kanji, which should read “daitou”, like a bad tattoo. Heavenly Sword’s Nariko certainly has a Japanese name, but this doesn’t sit well with her rather un-Japanese exterior. Avoid hommaging or referring to Japanese culture unless you are 100% sure of what the Hell you’re doing!

It seems that Western game characters appeal to a sense of wish fulfillment of the middle-aged geeks that play them. In Japan it seems to hark back more to the players’ youths, or the young players’ wish fulfillment. After your teenage years you enter a life of hard servitude in Japan’s corporate world, so the teens are a Golden Age for many people. The young schoolboy out to save the world from Evil speaks more to Japanese players than the navy veteran stranded on an alien world. And, superficial as this culture is, like any other really, youth also means beauty. Young kids, all toned and free of beer guts, look better in armour than a middle aged man. They also like the “cool” in Japan, but it is a very different “cool” than, say, America’s. In America males try o look hard and wide and walk with aggressive gaits, exuding danger and unfuckwithability. In Japan it’s the well-groomed Metrosexual with impeccably combed and gelled hair, wearing sharp suits and pointy leather shoes that get the attention. Final Fantasy 7’s Cloud Strife’s haircut is not just for the cosplayers; you’ll actually see young salesmen sculpting their hair in spiky swirls like that. Aggressive people don’t fit well with the general culture, and that may be a small element that is putting Japanese players off Western games.

It is undeniable that character and story are the most important part of most Japanese games and the effort put into them during development reflects this. Why do the Japanese players prefer over-the-shoulder or 3rd person perspectives in games? It’s so they can see, and therefore relate, to the characters. This, amongst other reasons, is why first-person shooters never really made a dent in Japan.

For Western developers aiming for realistic characters to appeal to the Japanese the safest bet is to base them on an actor or singer currently popular in Japan. This can be a little tricky as fame is cheap over here and today’s David Beckham is tomorrow’s Bob Sapp. During the two years development usually takes the celebrity you’ve based your character on could very well be a Z-list panel show filler. Some celebrities endure, though, which is why Onimusha 3’s Jean Reno character was a pretty safe bet, even to this day. Don’t try to second guess, get a Japanese person to advise you on this.

As you can see it’s not easy. Even writing and researching this post I have though of many exceptions to the above, and there are no hard and fast rules. But these are all things worth considering if you’re Hell bent on tailoring your game to Japanese audiences. The best advice is, probably, don’t try. A bad copy is always inferior to a failed original, and I think you’ll find the Japanese market more receptacle to a quirky new high concept than a Western made JRPG or similar dross. If your goal is to make a Japanese game I’m afraid there is little chance of doing any better than the Japanese themselves. To be absolutely safe, or as safe as you an get in this wonky industry of ours, either hire a Japanese firm to design the characters for you, or license an established Japanese IP.
And then cross your fingers and pray.

* Maybe, but really, who the fuck knows?

The branding of JC

There comes a time in the life of most ex-pats with a Japanese significant other that he has to step up and prove his worth and his love for his partner by running the commercial gauntlet. I’m talking about the greatest expense of your life; not the wedding ring, not the first home but the brand item. A phrase to strike fear in the heart of any wage-earner and glee in the bosom of the bank manager; the brand item is any item you can think of, though usually an accessory of sorts, which somehow gets elevated from purchasable commodity to unaffordable luxury by the clever inclusion of a brand-specific pattern and a little metal dongle with the name of said brand on it. A wallet shouldn’t set you back a chunk of cash, a briefcase shouldn’t cost you more than a month’s salary, but if there is a little metal tag that says “Prada” or the colour is a kind of burgundy-brown with the letters LV interwoven, these rules fly out the window.

For me the time came around the birthday of my wife, and her increased frequency of hint-dropping that I had decided to bite the bullet and shell out for a nice birthday present, with the distinct hope it should put me in the pink for at least a decade. On a shopping trip I mentioned we may want to visit that Luis Vuitton shop so she could show me that purse (as in “wallet for girls”) she had been telling me about. Just before that I had sneakily gone to the ATM to extract a significant bundle of notes which I mistakenly hoped would cover the bill.

We found the nearest store and walked into a gold-lit Temple of Commerce with small, glass display cases along the walls and several shelves tastefully situated along the high walls showing a variety of supposedly every-day objects; suitcases, briefcases, handbags, umbrellas. A passer-by might have mistaken it for a museum of sorts, as the displays all exuded a sense of wondrous awe and immeasurable expense. A Luis Vuitton suitcase, for example, isn’t displayed as a “handy device for carrying luggage on trips” but as a “Luis Vuitton Suitcase”, with a capital S.

As to this day I have trouble deciphering Japanese values, what with them being quite large, running into the tens of thousands for fairly typical items, it took me a short stare to realize the cost of some of the items on display. From a distance 40,000 Yen looks not dissimilar to 400,000 Yen but the difference is very real in the monetary sense. Before I could utter a “Jesus Christ!” I notice the wife looking into a glass case and nearby sales women eyeing us like an ambush of tigers surveying a wounded gazelle.

Within seconds a demure woman with a little too much make-up sidles over and points her overbite at us. I hate to use the term “bucktoothed” as it is such an unpleasant and mostly inaccurate racial stereotype, but this woman could de-crust a slice of toast in a single bite. She quickly switches to hard-core salesperson mode. She shoots off a few questions at the wife and before you know it several display models are laying on top of the glass case and two or three catalogues are open and facing us. This woman is in for the kill.

In English my wife explains to me that this purse was the kind of thing she was thinking of. Not this one, of course, but something like this. Or maybe that one. The “that one” purse is expensive, but the “this one” is, if you pardon my French, fucking unaffordable. “Um, so that one,” I venture, “looks pretty good, doesn’t it?” My wife, not aware of my plans naively goes “hmm, but this one is larger, which is what I was looking for.” The sales woman tries to engage us personally, with the usual “what is your country” and all that. I am not falling for it. Once we have located the specimen the wife likes most I drop the bombshell and gallantly, but with a slight quiver in my voice say “we’ll buy it now!” My wife is pleasantly shocked, the saleswoman delighted. She makes some comments about what a nice guy I am but I give her a look that I hope conveys “give it a rest, deary. You’ve succeeded, okay?”

While I am trying to remove the dusty padlock from my wallet she slides over a small tray on which I am supposed to lay my money, or if I had had a better job, my credit card. This is the standard in Japan; you never hand over money but put it on the little tray provided. This immediately circumvents my natural muscular instincts and avoids the embarrassment of her having to pry the notes out of my death grip. She also slides over a calculator with the amount keyed in; another common symptom in Japanese consumerism when the cash register is out of view. This, again, goes against my natural instincts of saying “how much???” as all she’d have to do is point at the calculator and say “um, that much”. They sure take all the fun out of being tight-fisted.

She disappears with my precious money and tells us to look around a little more, under the pretence that she’ll pack up the purse for us. Obviously she is under the misapprehension we’ll buy more goods. “Oh, my dearest, I see you have your eye on that handbag too. Well, why not? It’s only more money than I make in a month!” Not bloody likely. After a heart-stopping jog around the rest of the store I park us near the counter and make deliberate “we’re waiting” stances. After a lengthy period she returns with an admittedly beautifully presented case and carry bag as well as my change, which I grab with ungentlemanly fervor. I rush us out of the store until we’re a safe distance away, at which point I start breathing again.

The money I had previously extracted from the ATM, together with some crumpled notes I still had in my wallet just barely covered the cost. I keep complaining how I am not going to buy a PS3 at that price but then find myself spending more than that on a frickin’ purse. At least this should put me in the clear for a while, and whenever the wife gives me grief for not cleaning up or coming home drunk I can just subtly remind her of my extreme sacrifice on this day.

Brand goods… I tell you. The scourge of any male with a Japanese woman to keep happy. But I’ve done my bit now. Never again. Good grief.