Broadway and Board Games

Today's post focuses on the Disneyfication of Broadway and what it teaches us about board games. 'Disneyfication' is a term my undergrad theatre professor used to describe the trend of large, splashy, expensive shows being mounted on Broadway. These shows have complex scenery, props, and costumes. And they are frequently connected to an outside IP. As the name suggests, Disney musicals on Broadway are emblematic of this trend and likely its progenitor. Other musicals that fit into this category are The Addam's Family and Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark. Hamilton, by contrast, has a minimalist set and Brechtian staging that are somewhat jarring when you watch it on Disney+ and don't know what to expect, although it is still a large production budget-wise. (I could write a whole post on Hamilton, Brecht, and Disney audiences, but this isn't a theatre blog.) 

That should give you an idea of what I'm talking about. The results of Disneyfication are farther reaching than the NYC theatre scene, however. Bigger productions changed audience expectations and pushed regional producers to go even bigger on much more limited budgets. (There's a lot more I could say here about health and safety, among other considerations, but they don't apply to board games as much.) Big productions pull in the largest audiences but also cost the most. They are also the hardest to do well if you don't have unlimited resources available. 

Movies, pre-pandemic, had shifted to a place where mid-level budget movies were increasingly hard to make. (I'm not sure how online releases plays into this, so I'm ignoring it.) Instead, big-budget blockbusters and small indie films were prioritized. We also see this shift in video games, with expensive AAA titles and the plethora of indie studios. A similar trend comes out of the Disneyfication of Broadway. Large musicals and small-cast straight plays (plays without singing) appear and do well on Broadway. Large-cast straight plays are much less popular in general and have been for probably over a hundred years at this point. Shakespeare still get performed (not really on Broadway, though), but new plays don't have the same cast size common during the Renaissance or even the century that followed. I'm talking about the difference between 5 and 15 people on stage, which doesn't seem like a lot, but the costs of additional actors in additional costumes adds up. 

Whether or not this shift is a good thing, it has had tangible results in how we view theatre. Large musicals (small ones do exist, usually with single sets and around five actors) are consumed not dissimilar to how summer blockbusters are: wide appeal to a general audience with a sense of bright, sensory-overload entertainment; even the sad musicals have catchy tunes. Straight plays are smaller, closer affairs. They require more intellectual and emotional labor from the audience. 

I haven't worked on Broadway. My concern is, more often than not, the regional theaters who bite off more than they can chew with big shows to the neglect of introducing their audiences to smaller shows or mid-sized shows that were less popular. My concern doesn't transfer one-to-one to board games, but I think we're starting to see a similar trend of large-vs-small polarization. 

Obviously, large miniatures games have exploded on Kickstarter. As game production values have risen, other games, like Rococo, have deluxified themselves into a higher price bracket. Big games at premium prices are clearly a feature of the hobby now. In response, a renewed focus on small games is growing. I do wonder if these trends in tandem will ultimately lead to the death of the forty dollar game the way medium-budget movies and plays have been largely pushed out of their industries. 

Some observations: Big productions are bigger risks, especially for small companies. I hope that crowdfunding will actually preserve mid-sized games as a way for small companies to foray into bigger games without the risks of a huge game. 

Games with fewer elements allow greater opportunity for close attention to detail. I expect we will see a rise in the quality of small box games, as competition increases, faster than we will in big box games. 

There may be increased pressure to shrink box sizes if the market continues to push out the middle. I'm mostly for this. Cheaper, good games are a good thing for the hobby. Maybe the mid-range price can also exist to house deluxe small games, in addition to streamlined big games. 

And really, a lot of this has already happened and is currently happening in board games. The bigger question is if these trends will last and how should designers respond to them. If other industries are an indication, yes, this trend will continue. Independent designers need to be aware of the shift in the market. I think new designers who pitch to publishers are going to have an increasingly hard time pitching medium to large games and the result will be increased competition among designs of small games. 

Auteurs and Committees

There are two competing concepts about designers floating around the hobby right now: design by committee and the auteur designer. Design by committee (henceforth DBC) usually presents as emphasizing incorporating ideas from playtesters and the importance of developers to the design process. The auteur designer, on the other hand is presented as the genius artist whose artistic control is vital to the success of the game. I think this binary approach lacks nuance. 

Let's look at the downsides of each approach first. At its worst, DBC is crowdsourcing popular ideas rather than developing a skills and creativity in parallel to playtester feedback. I think a lot of independent designers start at this point, hoping playtesters will critique their game into something that is good. I believe designers should develop an independent concept of quality, so they are less reliant on playtester feedback to make design choices (as opposed to development choices). Design studios, on the other hand, seem to suffer from complexity creep and competing design visions. Popular games become bloated with expansions. Some games simply feel messy, as when the theme, art, and gameplay are somewhat mismatched. 

On the other hand, the clear downside to the auteur designer is a lack of perspective. Obviously, these designers are still playtesting their games, but frequently lack the outside input of paid developers. A more obscure downside is that the hobby has a weird relationship with designers because of the perception of artistic control. Every game is the product of some sort of collaboration. Even Ryan Laukat isn't manufacturing and distributing his own games. The auteur designer gives off the illusion of full artistic control, but very few designers actually succeed as solo outfits in terms of accolades or profits. I think that publishers could do better about viewing designers as artistic collaborators and that a conversation about design vision versus product vision should happen before contracts are signed. But designers also need to approach games as a collaborative medium. 

Another unfortunate reason driving the auteur designer is credit. I don't buy into artist myths. All art is collaborative on some level. All collaborators deserve credit. In addition to fixing BGG listings, I want to see design studios more transparent about who worked on what. I'm not a fan of design pseudonyms when who the pseudonym covers changes over time. Give people credit for the games they've worked on. This is important for the development of informed games criticism and also to avoid exploitation as the industry grows. Yes, some designers want more credit than they deserve. But a collaborative industry should be generous about giving credit, for the goodwill it builds if nothing else.

The benefit of DBC is perspective: more creative people set at solving the same problem. The benefit of the auteur designer is a single, driving design vision. Where I believe the discussion (inasmuch as there is one) breaks down is that these benefits are not mutually exclusive. Clear design visions and additional perspectives are both vital to good game design. I don't think solo designers or design studios are going anywhere. Everyone can benefit from using better forms of collaboration, better communication, and clearly articulated vision statements. 

Artistic Influences

There were a number of sayings, almost proverbs, that were taught in my undergrad theatre program. Most of them had more than one version: "Done is good." vs. "Good is good; done is better." There is one in particular I want to highlight today: "Give credit where credit is due, and steal like crazy." (The alternate form is "Good artists borrow; great artists steal." But that leaves out an important step.)

Let's break down this instruction.

"Give credit where credit is due." Simply put, don't plagiarize. If an element of your game design was inspired by another game and remains significantly similar in the final product, say so. Give credit. You should give credit to your influences in the rulebook even if you think no one else will notice. If the element is a significant part/chunk of the game and is distinctly similar, you should reach out to the original designer and discuss how to give appropriate credit, up to listing them as a co-designer. We operate on the assumption that mechanics can't be copyrighted, but plagiarism is more of an ethical issue than a legal one. So, be ethical and err on the side of giving credit. 

A note: self-plagiarism is a thing. If you are being paid to create a new thing, but instead copy a thing you made for someone else, that's a form of plagiarism. Be upfront with publishers, etc about any other versions of your work that are (or have been) made available to the public. For example, if you put up a game on itch.io and that game gets signed by a publisher, you need to mention that it's available online and offer to take it down. Even if the rules have been tweaked and the publisher re-themed it. Plagiarism is a question of honesty. 

"Steal like crazy." All art is influenced by other art; no art is created in a vacuum. Playing a lot of games is going to change how you design games. Building on existing ideas can save time, especially at the early stages of design. Designing using existing mechanics can make you a better designer as you learn what makes those mechanics tick. If you are taking ideas from enough places, you will likely end up with a collage of concepts that is uniquely your own work. Still give credit. But don't be afraid to be influenced by great games. And don't feel like you have to reinvent the wheel every time you sit down to design. 

I see a lot of new designers struggling with how to address the fact that their games are similar to other games. I am not suggesting that publishing a clone of another game, even with proper attribution, is appropriate. Your game should offer something unique to players. But you don't have to invent all new mechanics in order to do that. And when you inevitably borrow from another design, give credit.