Busy Gamer News

Dear Jason Hall, Senior VP,

So, I heard you want to make movie-licensed games better. Good. That's a great first step. We all know it's an age-old story, dating back to E.T. on the Atari 2600 -- the game that landed more copies in the landfill than in gamers' living rooms. Yeah, we've heard it -- and said it -- a million times: Videogames based on movie licenses suck.

Sure, there are a few notable exceptions: Goldeneye 007, some of the Star Wars games, The Two Towers. Even the new Chronicles of Riddick game is turning some heads. But weigh them against all of those that end up clogging the discount rack at Electronics Boutique, and it's no contest.

On the surface, tying a game developer's paycheck to the overall rating a game gets sounds like a fair proposal. It's probably true that a game that scores less than 70 percent as an average review score is hurting your brand and the company that made it deserves to pay you a larger share of its royalties as a penalty. Heck, even if the game is a runaway hit in sales, the negative taste left in gamers' mouths will probably put a damper on your inevitable sequel's opening weekend.

And you're right if you think gamers applaud you for wanting to put an end to the shiftless developers who slap a few licensed characters into a cheap videogame engine in an effort to make a quick buck off of unsuspecting gamers who put their unblinking trust in the Warner Bros. brand machine.

But that only solves part of the problem. Here's what your plan misses:

1. Unreasonable deadlines. The number one reason licensed games suck is that they're tied to YOUR movie release dates. Sure, there's a sweet spot where a movie's fans will be more inclined to mindlessly shell out for a tie-in game. But this reflects the kind of thinking that you're trying to get away from. You DON'T want people to just plop down $50 to buy a game because they're high off your movie, and who cares if it sucks or looks like it was rushed out the door? You want them to buy a good game based on your intellectual property. And gamers will ALWAYS buy a really good game, no matter when it's released.
   
   So you have a few choices: 1) allow game release dates to slip well beyond the movie release date, 2) plan better so you can start development earlier or 3) pay more if it's a rush job.
   
   An interesting case study: the way Disney co-opted the unfinished Sea Dogs 2 to make it a Pirates of the Carribean movie tie-in. What they would have known, if they'd done their homework, is that Bethesda Softworks games (like Morrowind) are often quite buggy on first release. It's more of side effect of their complex RPG game engines than an indictment of Bethesda's quality control. Since the game had been in development a long time, it may have seemed like a win, win proposition. Oh, and we're grateful that they didn't slap a Disney-fied story on top of it. But it might have been better to work down the bug count and sim-ship it with the DVD release.
   
   
2. Executive meddling. We all know how the movie business works. Mid-level executives "give notes" to their screenwriters and directors to influence the end product. Beyond their role in greenlighting, that's how they put their stamp on the movies they make and show their worth to the boys upstairs. So it's not a big leap to believe these same executives demand changes in videogames. Only, for the most part, theses execs don't play these kinds of games.
   
   On the surface, longer cut scenes might seem to be a way to fix an otherwise mediocre game (like your Enter the Matrix), but gamers don't like long breaks in the action. And if the action is boring, then no number of cut scenes (no matter how good they are!) will make the game any better. Really, movie executives don't know what the heck they're meddling with and how it will influence gameplay. Tell 'em to stay the hell out of it.
   
   If you really want an opinion on how a game is turning out, hire some kids to be a focus group and let them provide some early feedback. Yeah, it may cost a few bucks, but you can probably pay 'em in t-shirts and movie trinkets you have lying around the office. Just so you're not surprised and disillusioned later: They WILL pawn 'em on eBay.
   
   
3. Developer alienation. Atari has already gone on record saying they'll never sign this type of contract because it's "insulting." Very few established developers will. And they're the ones with the deep pockets. It's an established fact that licensed titles rarely make any money for the developer who builds them. Often, up-and-comers will do it for the prestige, just to land an A-list client. But if you include this kind of penalty clause, they'll shy away too.
   
   Here's a thought. Rather than penalize developers for crappy games, why not reward them for good ones? That's right, they get the usual crappy deal UNLESS their game is rated really good, and then their share of the payoff goes up, up, up. I bet a lot of developers would respond to more money, but give them a proposal that can only get worse and naturally they'll run screaming. Heck, for new developers, you could probably just promise the penalty price up front and the normal price as a reward… they won't know the difference and it's all about how you sell it.
   
   
4. It goes both ways. Your remedy overlooks your movie's role in a videogame's success. What if the game is pretty damn good but the movie just plain stinks. Are you going to pay a penalty to game developers if you screw up and hurt THEIR sales? When you play the review game, maybe you should factor your own movie scores into the mix.