Unreliable Narrator
Exploring stories in games and the art of telling tales
Sam Barlow explains why Hitchcock’s Psycho promo is the perfect videogame trailer
As I write this, I’ve just released a teaser trailer into the maelstrom of hype that is this year’s online E3. It was intense. Partly because I happened to be in LA at the time and could not convince my body that I wasn’t supposed to be on stage somewhere: even as the teaser aired I was expecting a panicked call from an irate show manager. But also because seeing hundreds of trailers and announcements going head-to-head over a handful of days was a reminder of the desperate Darwinian nature of putting a game out right now. I distracted myself by thinking about the usefulness of all this hype.
Hype is part of selling a game, sure. The sales pitch. The marketing that gets built around a game has to get people excited enough to mash the wishlist button – which, by the way, is physically connected to the nucleus accumbens of its developer. And, yes, hype sometimes has to be weighed up against setting correct expectations. It is possible to create too much hype – infamously, No Man’s Sky promised an infinite game and created infinite expectations. BioShock Infinite promised infinite realities, but shipped with only one. Perhaps a rule of thumb is to just not promise infinity?
But, if we ignore the sales and marketing aspect, there’s a much more important thing happening here. I’ve spoken before about Hitchcock and his understanding of the storytelling that happens outside the experience. He knew that the marketing for his movies was part of the story. That it was preparing the audience for the movie, that it was in effect the real first act. Watch the trailer for Psycho. In it, Hitchcock walks the Bates Motel set. He talks about the events of the movie as if in their aftermath. He points out where the film’s murders happen, showing the audience the main staircase and describing how the second murder happens there. What a spoiler! Then he cheekily explores Mrs Bates’ bedroom and talks about how creepy she was, even indicating where she slept on her bed and talking about her clothes, this “maniacal woman”. Throughout the rest of the trailer he points out important objects and beats of the movie. He finishes the trailer in the bathroom and talks up the violence that takes place there (“You should have seen the blood!”). It’s a masterclass. Hitchcock is not just hyping the audience, but he’s setting them up for the specific suspense game he has planned for them. He’s building up the anticipation, prepping audiences so that when they watch the movie and they see the characters go up the stairs, when they see Marion Crane running her shower, they are primed – they know what is coming. That’s suspense. He’s also cleverly misdirecting the audience in order to set up his big twist. His trailer is part of his storytelling toolkit. It’s a perfect videogame trailer.
When I started out as a videogame storyteller I hated trailers because I felt they were full of spoilers. All my careful narrative work, all the joy of discovery being undercut by just putting it all out there! But now I consider the ways a trailer can help with the most challenging part of game development – the opening hour of the game. The first hour of a game is where the player must learn the basics, how to even control their character. We must teach them what they can do, but even more importantly what they can’t. We establish the rules of the universe and the constraints within which players can act. How do I move? Who am I? What abilities do I have? Can I jump over waist-high obstacles, or not? If I attack quest NPCs, will it be game over or game on? Can I kick down flimsy doors, or do I need to go find the Ornate Key to do so? Every time a player is forced to test out these questions, they risk losing their immersion. A mismatch between the rules of this fictional universe and their assumptions is a glitch in the Matrix. So think on what our overexposure to hype and trailers can do. It primes the pump! When I got to play Breath Of The Wild for the first time, I had already inhaled a few hours of trailers and E3 demo footage. So I knew about climbing, gliding and the core Sheikah powers. In effect, I had already been ‘tutorialled’. I was ready to go. But I’d also allowed myself to dream about what I wanted to do in the world; I had a list of stuff I was champing at the bit to go do. I was already playing the game!
My phantom stage fright has almost dissipated. And as we release trailers and talk about the game to press and fill out websites and social media, I know that this isn’t just marketing. It’s the first act of our story. You’re already playing our game.
As we release trailers and talk about the game, I know that this isn’t just marketing. It’s the first act of our story
Sam Barlow is the founder of NYC-based Drowning A Mermaid Productions. He can be found on Twitter at @mrsambarlow