Listen, as far as I can see, the land of the Red Steel 2 release (March 23rd!! 25th in Europe!! 26th in Australia!!) looks pretty okay. Reasonable. Encouraging. And that’s freaking me out a little bit.

Here’s why: it has happened before. I’ve learned over the course of my career that just because things look good right now, doesn’t necessarily mean that they will continue to.

Even so, the fact that said response is (so far) based on the opinions of hundreds of people who have actually played the game (many of them for over three hours) makes it easier to develop some faith. I figure if you can get three hours into the game, and you’re still enthusiastic, something’s working for you. And, really, for this game, the next few hours resemble the first few, except with more stuff, so if you liked _that_, ideally, you’ll like the rest.

However.

However, it’s still faith. It’s way, way to early to be able to relax. I’ve noticed, for example, that my typing has become more jackhammer-like over the past few weeks, a sure sign of tension.

I’ve mentioned this before. Like, fifteen times. That’s because it’s become the majority theme in my existence for the past several months, and until the game is fled and out there in the wild, rampaging around like a katana-wielding Tyrannosaur (yes!!), it’s going to be the majority theme. Sorry if it’s boring. I ease my conscience by reminding myself that if you’re reading this, it’s by choice. I sleep better that way. You have no one to blame but yourself.

Now, what I want to talk about here, today, is something about how the whole ‘release’ situation is made more complicated by the nature of the factors surrounding it.

See, normally, when you are releasing a new installment of an existing franchise, once the game is done, the team immediately begins planning and developing the next version. Generally, games are planned well in advance, and so you tend to know exactly what the next steps will be at the moment you hand the final disc over to manufacturing.

This case is a little bit different.

[ASIDE] In the press, my answer(s) to the question of “Will there be a Red Steel 3?” has been, shall we say, ‘re-emphasized’. While this is not necessarily a bad thing, it has lead to some misunderstandings. I’m gonna try to straighten out the issues a bit here, while we’re chatting. You’ve been warned. [/ASIDE]

Why is it different?

Let’s talk about the franchise a little bit. And I’m going to try to do this without violating my corporate responsibilities… which is always challenging. Let’s see how it goes.

As a franchise, Red Steel has a surprising amount of affection among gamers. There’s (very vocal) exceptions, but on the whole, people who played it were disappointed, but somehow that didn’t interfere with their hopes for the future. “It could have been better,” they seem to say, “and we’d really appreciate it if you would make it so.”

That’s 100% why we are here now, with a new installment. People wanted it.

Why wasn’t a sequel more of a sure thing? Well, let’s be honest with ourselves here: it’s not the hugest brand in the industry. The name recognition of Red Steel, while quite high among gamers who were early adopters of the Wii, isn’t quite what is referred to in the Intellectual Property biz as “universal”. Add to that the troubles with controls and other factors in the first game, and you get an overall mixed perception.

Still, though. People wanted another Red Steel, and they wanted it to be awesome.

Fast forward to NOW!

/fasts-forward

[ASIDE] Do you gol-darn kids even know what ‘fast forward’ means, for chrissake? Is that phrase even in common use any more? I’m starting to feel like a dinosaur for using it. It’s a reference to cassette tapes, people, and those haven’t been sold in stores since…

…uh, since before the Wii came out, that’s for sure. Woah. Anyway. Maybe “skips to the current track” would be more contemporary? No, that sucks. Listen, help me out here, if you can. [/ASIDE]

…

Dammit! Where was I??

…

RIGHT! Now. Now is when people are still wanting another Red Steel! And how does that relate to the overall topic of anxiety about the release, and the bizarre sub-topic I introduced about what I and the Red Steel team are doing at the moment??

EXCELLENT QUESTION!

Here’s how: we _believe_ this game will do well. It appears to be moving along a ‘positive trajectory’. See above about uncertainties about that, but here’s the thing: even in a perfect market (which we are not in) it’s very tough to be sure about anything. Very tough, indeed.

So, imagine yourself as a Ubisoft planning person. You’re smart (just trust me, they are), experienced (yes, also true), uncynical (I’m not making this up, I’ve actually met these people), and you really want the company to do well financially (duh) and make great games (listen, I’m serious – have you met them?? no?? well I have, and this is what they are like).

Okay, so you’re this planner, and you’ve got Red Steel, a much-beloved, much-troubled franchise, on _one platform_ (ouch), and the new game requires the Motion Plus attachment (always dangerous), the Wii market is going through these weird contractions and rumbly upheavals… everyone is panicking. And, the team wants to know if we should be going full-guns and dumping a whole new bunch of money into Red Steel 3. And, if you make the wrong call, everyone in the company loses, the stockholders get pissed off, and you get a bad review that year. Your annual raise will be smaller, so your kids’ braces are going to have to wait for another year.

What would you say?

I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking I’d say something like, “Hey, guys – what say we just hang out for a few weeks and see what happens? You know, just to make 100% sure that the market for this game even exists.”

And that would be the right call.

But you know what that means for the dev team? It means that the answer to the question of “so, what are you doing now?” is _really_ complicated to answer. And when people say “will there be a Red Steel 3?” you tend to hem and haw a little. My answer has come down to something like this: “We don’t know. Depends on what happens when this game ships.”

Now, what I’ve learned about that answer is that it is easy to hear it as “The Future Of Red Steel Franchise Depends On Red Steel 2 Success” (to mis-quote recent web headlines).

Let’s take a second, though, and look at that. Ironically, such a statement is, in fact, a tautology – it’s obviously, always, necessarily true. And, not just for Red Steel: it’s true for every product in existence in the markets of the world.

More: I’m going to go out on a limb and say that it’s even true for every product in the entire universe. Even Alpha Centaurian planners use this axiom: prior success often gives you an indication of future success, so plan accordingly.

But it’s not a binary operation. It never is. There are uncountable factors that go into a complex decision like pushing a game into a third iteration: sales, reviews, hardware, economy, other games, individual interest, whim, marketing, appeal… it goes on and on. And, frustratingly, there is just no sure way to know with anything like certainty which direction these market winds will blow.

So, we hire scads of weatherpeople. We hope. We plan. We invest in wind-detecting science. We measure.

And then, one day, we get in our boat, pack our goods for the journey, look to the heavens…

…raise our sails…

…and wait.

So, I wanted to sit down and blog on something other than Red Steel 2.

I failed, instantly. The release of this game has so completely taken over my life, it makes me begin wonder if there really ever was anything else, before this, the Great Red Tide.

The deluge of media, previews, comments, and just all-around stuff to me is beginning to resembled something that might be familiar to fans of a somewhat-more ancient form of mass-market entertainment: the opera. Following this line of thinking, this part is, perhaps, something akin to the Overture.

Rehearsal is over: it’s the big night. We (the Red Steel team) are sitting in the orchestra pit, sporting our best tuxedos (or gowns, in some cases). The audience is gathering, and we have finished with the intricate ritual of tuning our instruments. The lights start to dim, and, as is customary, before the curtain rises, we gently seduce you into the Show That Is To Follow with a piece written exclusively for the purpose: a musical “preview” (if you will) that highlights the core musical themes that will, later, as you are watching the actors cavort around on stage, grace your ears. It warms you to the tone, and gives you a head-start if you are new to the show.

Later, during the show, when you hear these cues, they might also serve to remind you that we warned you this would happen.

It’s about three weeks and counting until it’s all over and we get to find out what people really think about the game. Currently, all we know is what people would like to think. While this can have a tendency to inspire hope, it does not always accurately predict the final outcome.

…

Okay, now I’m going to drift off of Red Steel for a second, and go kinda random on you. Because, see, there’s a deep, personal irony at play here: all of the above madness is happening at a time when some of my compatriots in arms (best friends, in fact) are undergoing what might be called “the worst of times”. How to resolve the conflicting mental frisson produced by on the one hand seeing your labors being at-long-last revealed before the expectant audience, while at the same moment people you care deeply for are being subjected to unspeakable horrors?

That might be overstating it a bit.

(If that astonishes you, then this is clearly the first blog post from me you’ve read.)

Okay, so then, today, all that became even further complicated by other friends of mine becoming closely involved in new, confusing, potentially exciting yet dangerously strange events. The world stage of game development is re-shaping itself, and I know too many of the people involved to know which team to root for.

I have, in fact, no idea how to feel at all.

…

Thankfully, it ultimately doesn’t matter if I can or cannot sort through this or not in the time I have alotted. Because, in just a few minutes here, the overture will end, the curtain will go up, and the show will go on. Once that happens, it’s all down to instinct, the work you’ve already done, and your current companions.

I’m ready.

…it’s the wait that’s a killer.

Since I got back from the press tour, I’ve been sneezing and sniffling and coughing up a STORM. It’s late, and constructing complete sentences is an agonizing labor. I try to post twice a week – we’re gonna be a tad late this week.

For the record, I always get sick after a big tour like this. I’m such a natural introvert, that the amount of energy expenditure it takes to do these shows is huge – so when I get home, I fall apart. Happens pretty much every time.

Anyway, I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow, hopefully. Apologies.

I’ve never had a response to anything I’ve written like the response I got to my last blog post.

The topic, if you don’t know (or if you’ve just forgotten – yeah, I *knew* you were drunk when you were reading it), was how weird it is to be on the broadcasting end of the “celebrity experience”, instead of the receiving end. Not weird in a “this sucks” kind of way – but weird in a “I hope this means that you guys & gals like the work” kind of way.

Boy. I got some responses.

I’ll spare you the detailed breakdown – though it makes some interesting reading, if you’re into that. The short version is that the word back was “man, we think you should enjoy it, and keep moving.”

Good advice, I think…

…but still. Gotta tell ya. It’s all rattling in my noggin a bit.

To make matters weirder, the Internet has exploded with reviews and interviews. Now, what’s unbelievably awesome is that they are all (in general) positive. Still, though.

Still.

…

I want to go off on a tear here for a second. Because…

…well, because interfacing directly with fans (on Facebook, on the Red Steel 2 forums, on Twitter, in person… they’re everywhere, man!) has, so far, been an absolutely mind-meltingly, life-changingly, consciousness-alteringly awesome experience.

Why? Well, see, it actually was impossible three, maybe even two years ago, what’s happening right now.

See, before, when one released a game, the communication pipe with the people who would eventually play the games that you spent those long months and years tending to was long, convoluted, many-staged, heavily-policed… and, generally, one-way.

Here’s how it used to work:

1. I would sit in a room, generally somewhere in the studio.
2. A representative from the (current) company would deliver members of the press to said room. Conversation would ensue.
3. Later (often much later), a written summary of the encounter would appear in some printed form.
4. I would read said summary… aaaaaaaand wish I could say something in reply.

That was it.

Now, however, it seems to work more like this:

1. I sit wherever I damn well please. Usually, I’m at a computer: at work, at home (like now), or in a hotel room, but sometimes it is still face-to-face.
2. Members of the press — or, actually, anyone with an Internet connection — pose questions and/or make statements about the game. Or anything they have in mind.
3. I respond. Often immediately.
4. Repeat steps 2 and 3 until someone gets bored and leaves.

You might expect that this might lead to Internet tousles. World’s full of trolls, you know, and people can be–

Nah.

So far, what I’ve found is a bunch of incredibly enthusiastic, fun, thoughtful people who can’t wait to play a cool game. And, even if that isn’t what the world is filled with, that is what I choose to see. Take THAT, trolls!

So, what’s it like to hang out online with lots and lots of cool people who are really enthusiastic about the work that you and your team have been whittling away at for several years?

There is only one word.

Humbling.

I spent much of this week talking with journalists and enthusiast press about Red Steel 2. It was weird.

I mean, first of all, it was great. When we show the game, the result is nearly always the same: anyone who picks up the controls has quite a good time playing it.

That’s not necessarily boasting – that’s just what I see again and again in the presentations we make. Some people are cool on some aspects of the game, and there are lots of questionable decisions that we made (to be sure), but players seem to be unanimous about one thing: RS2 is fun to play.

Joy!

But that’s not really what I want to talk about today. I’ve been musing (extensively) on this weird little blip of Internet celebrity I seem to have accumulated, and I want to talk a little bit about the experience.

For those of you who don’t know what in the hell I’m talking about, here’s a quick primer:

• Back in June, I was asked to announce Red Steel 2 at the Ubisoft press conference. As I had just broken my knee, I came out on stage not only looking like my normal freak self, but with a cane. This seemed to clinch things: I was suddenly being recognized as “that dude with the beard and the cane”.
• Since then, I’ve done about 1,453,901 interviews while promoting Red Steel 2. Over the past 9 months, this has slowly changed from “Oh, hi, who are you?” to “I’d really like to get an interview with Jason VandenBerghe, if that’s okay.”

For the record (and, whether or not you believe me) I’m not bragging. Not at all. That’s actually part of the point of this blog post, I think – to open the door a little bit on that.

Yes, I love the attention, yes, I’m a glory-hound, yes, I like talking to the press, yes, I’m fundamentally insecure and am trying to compensate for that, yes. Yes yes yes. All true. But I’m also 100% clear that appreciation is something that fans decide to give, not something that I can “make happen” or “deserve”.

I’m amazed at what has been occurring, but no more feel like I “own” the attention I’ve been getting than I own the weather. People seem interested in me right now, I think that’s cool and fun, it helps the game, and if people get a kick out of what I’m doing, then I hope it continues. If it doesn’t, then c’est la vie, baby.

Either way, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. This week was particularly weird – I had several journalists who seemed to be very interested in my personal creative origins for some of the stuff that appears in Red Steel 2. This is hyper-weird for me:

• First of all, as an American, the concept that the press would be interested in talking about what I do as “art” is just surreal. I’ve learned that in Europe this is not such a foreign (ha ha) concept, but it still takes a leap of faith for me to believe that they aren’t being sarcastic.
• Secondly, it’s an action game, so the interest level about the surrounding details is surprising. Welcome, but surprising. I spent a good deal of time (with one Greg Roach, among others) working out how the “Red West” works as a setting, and it’s great to hear that people are curious. Surprising, but great.
• Third, I’ve been working in this industry for going on fourteen years now, and never really popped up as more than a “hyperenthusiastic designer” in any of my earlier contacts with the press. I’m sure this has at least something to do with nearly every other game I’ve made being a movie game… but it has the effect of lending an “overnight” feeling to the whole thing.
• Fourth, at EA and Activision, this whole thing would simply have been impossible. I do not have the kind of political power and interest that it takes to become a spokesperson at those companies, and my years of (largely) quiet service is evidence of this. I did a few articles, press tours, and quite a few “tourguide” stints with visiting dignitaries and student groups… but nothing like what Ubisoft has done with Red Steel 2. So far, Ubisoft seems to see my quirkyness as an advantage, and are more than willing to let me cavort around to my heart’s content (as long as the game is good, of course).
• Fifth… uh… I seem to be wandering way off the course here. Let’s just get back to the blogging, shall we?

The unspoken “background noise” in this topic is that I have always had a deep-rooted desire to do something meaningful.

Like, from birth. Something that touches people, something that gives back to the culture that created me – that was always the goal, from the furthest back I can remember. This has so completely dominated my thinking throughout my life that I don’t really know what it would be like to live without it.

Even against what is sometimes a cynical, shallow world, I want to do things that matter to people. (Not capital “M”, Matter. Just the regular, lowercase “matter”.)

Juxtaposed against the above “micro-celebrity weirdness” concepts, perhaps you can imagine something like what it feels like when people express interest in my work: I’ve spent my entire life craving the opportunity to do something valuable… and then, suddenly, in small fits and spurts, some people seem to be responding.

I know that this isn’t necessarily because of me personally, but I do experience what can only be described as enormous relief at the idea that perhaps, for once, the inside world and the outside world might be more closely aligned than they have been for the past few decades.

For the record, I’m not 100% sure that I have an actual point here that I’m trying to make. I think perhaps what I’m trying to do is share a little bit about what this whole weird trip has been like (good, strange, confusing, marvelous), and keep up with my long-standing policy of being as bluntly honest about the human nature of what I’m doing in my life as I can be, with anyone who is interested.

Also, I’m rather disorganized as a person, and processing everything publicly seems to be the best way for me to not miss things.

Anyway. This is turning into a boring, navel-gazing style post, so maybe I’ll call it here. If you made it this far, gratz. And, thanks for reading – I hope that at the very least, this post at least makes it more clear that I really do genuinely appreciate the interest.

Why? No clue. I think I was born this way.