On One’s Own is a column about, you guessed it, independent gaming. The wayward wanderings of DIYGamer’s James Bishop might lead to probing art, gameplay, design, reception or a number of other aspects related to independent games. But you can rest assured that all things indie will be carefully considered on a weekly basis.

Indie games are fun to play but, more than that, they are interesting to look at. This might sound trite and a bit underwhelming, but the fact of the matter is that a game that looks good and appeals to our senses is therefore more likely to be played. Unfortunately, what many these days consider to be pleasing to the eye is merely a constant race for the highest quality, best definition and the better number of… well, everything. The struggle for high-definition is one that large, corporate developers and publishers fight on a day-to-day basis.

Even back when Mega Man was first released, it was on par, if not exceeding, the expected graphics at the time. While, technically, Kirby’s Adventure or Super Mario Bros 3 might be the most colorful and best uses of sheer computing power from the time of the NES, Mega Man was pixelated, bright and just unrealistic enough for a man with a light bulb as a head to be used as a boss. Part of the allure might have been the challenge but hand-in-hand with that was always the art design.

This is why for Mega Man 9 and Mega Man 10, direct descendants of their old NES relatives, both utilize those same characteristics. One of the interesting conundrums, however, of these releases harking back to the franchise’s beginnings is simply why? Why would Capcom go back and put out a genuine sequel to a game with NES-era graphics? Especially now?

The answer almost certainly rests in the continued prominence of indie games. Indie games continue to sell well despite constantly getting the short stick on graphics. Many of what gamers seem to consider the best indie games have incredibly simplistic graphics. Partially, this is due to budget concerns but is also linked to the rise of minimalism in gaming.

Minimalism, like so many styles of art, is hard to define. Thank goodness for dictionaries! Essentially, minimalism is a style wherein the artist strips whatever they are creating down to the absolute bare-bones essentials. Illusions, decoration and what mostly amounts to fluff are thrown out the window. These kinds of designers look for the bare necessities, those simple bare necessities. (Must… resist… Disney joke.)

Another fairly recent title from a bigger publisher to head down the rabbit hole of minimalism is Echochrome, the 2008 title published by Sony for both the Playstation Portable and the Playstation 3. Echochrome utilizes an engine called the Object Locative Environment Coordinate System, which is just a fancy way of saying that it determines what happens in the game based on the current camera perspective. Depending on how you have the camera view titled, different things might happen on the screen.

Tilted one way, your character will start walking and then end up on the ceiling when you tilt it back. Overall, it is a very confusing experience and obviously reminiscent of M. C. Escher’s artwork. But while the gameplay is a bit confusing, the artwork is incredibly simple. The character you control is pretty much what many designers might first craft in order to place a more recognizable skin on. It’s basically a skeleton. The areas you walk around on? Platforms created by straight black lines with white interiors.

These kinds of games do not have huge art budgets; they don’t need to send out casting calls for voice acting and any number of other more traditional elements are completely thrown out for what they might call the essential experience. Echochrome is a puzzle game where a wire character traverses different platforms at different angles. Mega Man 10 is a platformer where you run, jump and blast your way to the final boss. They both have roots in the simpler times of gaming but the reason they have come to light most recently is the prevalence of this style in games that do very well and cost very little: indie titles.

Part of this has to do with limitations, of course, but at some point a designer has to actively decide to use simplistic graphics. Somewhere along the line, thatgamecompany decided that Flower would only use the controller’s tilting functions to simulate the movement of the wind on the petals. It’s true that the limitation is sometimes forced, like with Jason Rohrer’s Passage, but the majority of the time it is left up to the developers… who then typically choose to be simplistic as a cost-cutting measure.

But the reason that the art of indie games work so well, and why bigger publishers are starting to pick up on this too, is that removing a number of defined elements allows the player to construct an environment of their own choosing. This may not make a lot of sense at first, but then think about how a piece of fiction might use understatement. The things that we do not know, cannot know or are not told tend to be the most important part of the experience.

They leave it up to our imagination. Of course, it’s a fine line between imaginative and dull. Most games rely on gameplay to keep the experience fun just in case the art, at least in this way, fails. That is not to say either one is more important than the other, just that the essential gameplay and art work together to craft the experience. Both are understated in an attempt to make you extrapolate further meaning. At least, this is what a number of designers do.

A number of other designers, however, take the same approach as Capcom and Sony have taken. They see this return to an older style of graphics and, logically, conclude that this is a return to the roots of gaming and what some might think of as a “retro revolution” of sorts. In reality, the original thought of some indie developers has been photocopied so many times that it has lost all of its artistic meaning and depth. Not all indie games work this way and certainly not all of them are good. Sometimes, indie is actually just a moniker for a cheap production by one guy that doesn’t mean much of anything.

It is the games that do mean something, that stick to this original emphasis on minimalist principles, that are the best indie games. It doesn’t really matter if they’re popular or if they sell well (although their developers would like you to support them, as would I) but only if they cause people to well and truly think. That’s what any good book, game or any other piece of art will do: stimulate thought.

In a lot of ways, the divide between mainstream games and indie games resembles the difference between those seeing shadows and the freed prisoner in the Allegory of the Cave. In this ancient allegory, people are born strapped to a wall so that they see only shadows being cast from a fire behind them and hear only echoes from the noise above. They come to believe that shadows and echoes make up the sum of the world, as it is all they have seen and heard. The shadows are reality versus shadows being a reflection of reality and so on.

At some point, one prisoner is freed and comes to learn the truth of the situation. That prisoner then attempts to inform those still trapped to the wall about what it is the freed one has learned but those still kept prisoner see only shadows. In a world where meaning is often deeply personal and hard to describe to another person, how can a person explain a meaningful reaction to an indie game?

On One’s Own is a column about, you guessed it, independent gaming. The wayward wanderings of DIYGamer’s James Bishop might lead to probing art, gameplay, design, reception or a number of other aspects related to independent games. But you can rest assured that all things indie will be carefully considered on a weekly basis.

One thing that does not differentiate between your regular developers and the more independent developers is the limitation of resources. Regardless of the reasoning behind it, there will always be something that needs to be cut, refocused or rethought in order for a game to progress from idea to reality. Though it might seem like an entirely negative process, considering that it is by definition cutting back, it can lead to some interesting design decisions in order to compensate for lack of sufficient time, money or technology.

Many of the qualities that are often associated with indie games are simply remnants of a limited budget. Crude artwork, obscure music and simplistic control schemes have turned out to be qualifiers of indie games for just this reason. The lack of a big publisher or developer hinders the design process in the worst way: lack of available resources. Resources being broadly defined here as time, money and technology. To be fair, an indie developer consisting of, say, four students at Digipen have all the time in the world to make their game. Even so, they are still limited by the sheer amount of work ahead of them with such a small team.

In a way, this limitation becomes the inspiration for innovative thought. As an anecdotal example, it’s often claimed that back during the development of Silent Hill, the developers at Konami had wanted an open game world. However, the hardware at that time just could not handle rendering such an expansive environment; the technology just wasn’t there to realize their vision, regardless of how big a developer they were. Instead of eliminating an open world, they added a layer of fog to the mix. And so the foggy environment of Silent Hill has since been dreary and bleak due to limitations imposed on the original. It’s pretty much a series trademark by now.

So how is it that indie games continue to be produced, even on their much lower budget of limited time, limited money and the ever-present limits of technology? One look at the amount of sheer garbage in any given indie games section offers a pretty good answer. But a better question might be, how do indie games of such quality continue to be produced under these conditions? Braid, at least the Xbox 360 version, is sitting pretty at around 92% at GameRankings while the WiiWare version of World of Goo has a whopping 94%. Apparently, it’s not as if these so-called limitations have actually hindered them critically. At least not all of them. But it doesn’t answer the question of how.

To put it simply, indie games aren’t actually designed to be fantastic games. Instead, the majority of them seem to be designed to provide a distinct and unique experience in order to make up for that fact. The game is just a vehicle for the experience. Much like films or books are intended to convey experiences, games are only a means to an end. Arguably, almost all games tend to work toward this outcome rather than rely entirely on visuals or gameplay. Developers tend to strive to be more like the Steven Spielberg, as opposed to the Michael Bay, of the game-developing world.

Depending on what sphere of influence you are in, all of these limitations can either be a frustration or joy. Or a bit of both, as is the case for Fumito Ueda, the man behind Shadow of the Colossus and the cult-hit Ico. Speaking with Level, a games magazine, Ueda said, “If we don’t have any limit to work from, it becomes hard to make anything good out of an idea. But if we on the other hand have a very distinct technical limit it’s impossible to go beyond it. It will put the bar in a certain place without any way to raise it.”

On the flip side, many of those in the indie community see these sorts of limitations as more of a challenge or puzzle that needs solving in order to adequately and accurately convey whatever experience they intend. In an interview with Indiegames.com, Wan Hazmer, the guy behind Ballistic Wars and The Last Canopy, said, “The more limitations, the more creative one gets!” Designers are required to constantly rethink and rework things when they encounter an immovable limitation.

And it seems that many in the indie game community agree with him. A member of Kokoromi, what Wired refers to as a collective of experimental game designers, Damien Di Fede was quoted back in 2007 as stating that “[t]he hardest thing in the world is to decide what to do when someone says, ‘You can do anything.’” It’s the age-old problem of the blank page—where to start. Being given absolutes, as in you have to be finished in this amount of time or have to be able to fit it in 256 pixels, leads to creative design solutions. Don’t believe me? Just check out Jason Rohrer’s Passage.

Passage is and was Rohrer’s entry to the competition called “Gamma 256″. It fits in 256 pixels, can be played with an Xbox 360 controller, and has a 5 minute span of playtime before the game is considered ‘over’ and completed. It’s simple. There are not a lot of visual accolades that can be crammed in with the limitations imposed. And yet, people still thought an awful lot about his game and Ian Bogost, a rather prominent name in the field, even praised it outright in an article of his own.

“But James,” you might say, “what does this have to do with the majority of indie games out there and why should I care?” Well, theoretical reader, here’s why: indie games will lead the way in terms of original ideas and innovation. And it’s because of, you guessed it, the limitations they handle. Lack of huge payrolls might mean that there’s no massive backing for any project, but it also frees a developer to create games that may never have seen the light of day otherwise.

Jason Rohrer’s newest project, titled Sleep Is Death, is a two-player story-telling game that involves using one player as the actual player and setting the other up as a “game master” of sorts where they respond to all the text-based shenanigans of the first player. In order to pre-order the game, you just need a measly $9 or $14 if you purchase past the release date. Clearly, it’s not marketed like a regular videogame, so that takes some of the expenditure off, but there are still resources tied up in it and it does represent an investment. Even so, if the game is absolutely horrid and nobody understands it or how to play, it is only a drop in the proverbial bucket overall.

That is not to say that companies like Sony don’t have the capital to blow on these kinds of projects. They do and at times make the leap of faith to a place that isn’t a sure bet. (Heavy Rain, anyone?) But you have take into consideration the sheer amount of money spent on developing a AAA title in this day and age. Too Human, a AAA game that ended up being a massive disappointment in sales, cost over $60 million dollars to make. Part of the problem with Too Human was a lack of limitation. They even built their own engine after deciding that the Unreal Engine 3 was too confining for them.

Rohrer’s projects, on the other hand, are financed and developed on his own. The same goes for Wan Hazmer’s games. Being that their design team is composed of only a single person, themselves, they are allowed to set their own goals and only use as many resources as they care to expend. In a similar fashion, many iPhone applications have incredibly low production costs, sell for less than a dollar and finish it up by reaping major profits—even when they don’t sell all that well. This has also caused a massive influx of games that are, well, garbage. But that’s for another column.

What it comes down to is that companies like Sony are more concerned with ensuring that they will make money off any given venture. They want a game that sells. In fact, more than simply wanting a game that sells, they need a game that sells. Their investors demand it. Rohrer and Hazmer want a game that people will play and enjoy. Sure, there’s money involved, but it’s not the ultimate goal of either of them.

In short, they design to design. They approach it as a puzzle and, like Gregory House, enjoy the thrill of it. Basically, they are the kind of people who think inside the box. In this way, they seek to change the way we fundamentally approach gaming. Somewhat ironically, that’s why indie developers will continue to be the ones to push the boundaries. Not because they have unlimited resources or because they have access to all the best tools, people and public relations but because they have limited resources and tools.

On One’s Own is a column about, you guessed it, independent gaming. Specifically, nothing specific. The wayward wanderings of DIYGamer’s James Bishop might lead to probing art, gameplay, reception or a number of other aspects related to independent games. He might even talk about general gaming as it corresponds to the independents! (Henceforth referred to as the Browncoats) But you can rest assured that all things indie will be carefully considered on a weekly basis.

If you were to ask your average gamer to name an indie game, they would most likely name one that has been brought to the marketplace sometime in the past five years. That might be generalizing a bit, but there’s truth in it. We, as consumers, are constantly bombarded by a steady stream of indie titles, which is in no way at all a bad thing. But what has suddenly gotten into us that we are paying so much more attention to indie games? Why indie and why now?

Independent games are not exactly new by any standards. There have been a great number of independent games developed since the introduction of the console era and before that the original PCs. They just were not what some might typically think of as independent. That Drug Wars game for your calculator that it seems like everyone played eight to ten years ago? Technically, that’s an independent game. There were a large amount of shareware games that made their rounds via floppy disk back in the day as well. But that is not what your typical gamer these days might associate with the indie game scene.

What, exactly, has pushed indie games to the forefront of the mainstream audience’s mind since then? Especially considering that it is not like they did not exist and then suddenly did. We’re not looking at an entirely new art form, it’s just more visible. Somewhat ironically, the answer lies in the exact same reason we ended up with gaming in the first place: the ever-onward march of technology.

It used to be that to reach a large enough audience to be even barely noteworthy, a developer would need to team up with a publisher that could then get them some marketing and retail space. This is, of course, a generalization again but the basic idea of it is there. If you were some no-name developer, without the backing of a well-known publisher, it was unlikely that you would ever see your particular box with those zany characters you worked so hard on ever see the fluorescent light of a store’s shelf.

But like any good tech person will tell you, progress will eventually find a way. Or maybe that’s the guy from Jurassic Park… who is, technically, talking about life. That’s what happened, though. Eventually, consumers as a whole outgrew the antiquated notion of buying things by going out and getting them. Call it Westernization or whatever you want, but we’d rather have someone bring things to us over purchasing them for ourselves. I mean, come on, that requires effort! It’s just so darn convenient to order something. Less expensive, too.

It didn’t take long for games to make the jump either. Once people started ordering goods of any kind from the Internet, it spread like wildfire to all different markets. You still had your huge publishers with the marketing budget to spend on commercials and other attempts to garner attention, but the word of mouth sensation that is the Internet can’t be stopped. In a lot of ways, the Internet is one big never-ending chat room. Even if you leave, there will be people mucking about on the tubes in some fashion. Think 4chan but even worse. Or better. Either way, there’s a lot more /b/ out there than anybody will ever admit. In any case, you can’t stop the signal and someone, somewhere, is talking about the newest indie game to come out.

This perceived renaissance in independent games is not simply because we have suddenly started making better games either. Sure, there are a number of great indie titles out there but the movement did not start with Flower or even Braid. These were just the heralds of the real reason. We actually have digital distribution to thank for the abundance of indie games that we now have at our fingertips.

Where we before may have needed to know a developer personally, or develop our own games, in order to get our hands on something that might truly be dubbed with the dubious honor of being ‘indie,’ now all it takes is a quick jaunt to the Xbox Live Marketplace or Playstation Store. Or WiiWare, if that’s your thing. All of these services, plus platforms like Steam, provide easy and immediate access to almost any game that a person could desire to play. With the ease of access, came an ease of publishing, thus the huge influx of what we refer to as indie games.

This, as stated closer to the beginning of this column, is not a bad thing in and of itself. The easy accessibility has led to the increased attention paid to all things indie, if not directly then at least tangentially. But the rise of the mainstream indie has also produced growing pains in the scene as a whole. The definition of what exactly makes a game independent has become broken and not easily explained.

As a recent example, The Misadventures of P. B. Winterbottom, a game released on Xbox Live Arcade just this past week, was originally intended to only be Matt Korba’s graduate thesis but was then picked up and published by 2K Play. With the rise of social networking sites, we’re also being inundated in an entirely new way with quick-start casual Flash games that many might, and do, classify as independent games. It is almost like a brand new world out there filled with hybridizations of all our old definitions. And that is why asking your average gamer what an indie game constitutes will consistently end up with varied answers. I mean, heck, even Mike Capps considers Epic Games independent.

Regardless of definition, it is clear that independent gaming has certainly hit its stride. More and more games seem to be coming out of the woodwork daily. Unfortunately, without clear guidelines it could all lead to disaster as well. But there is always hope for the future and as long as people continue to get together and share interesting ideas, there will always be changing definitions and new developers to inspect. And new developers mean new games. And I like games.