by Adam Harshberger
I spent the day at PAX East yesterday, with a badge around my neck that says, ‘MEDIA.’
It’s something I’ve wanted to do for as long as I can remember. Not go to PAX, necessarily, but attend some kind of big gaming convention, especially as a member of the press. I couldn’t tell when my games journalism aspirations blossomed, not exactly, but in third grade, I used to wait with a fearsome anxiety for the month’s GamePro to come. I have eerily clear memories of articles I read about games, back then. The Final Fantasy 7 preview feature in the Official Playstation Magazine is forever seared into my head.
So I flew in yesterday morning, earlier than death, and took a bus from my hotel to the Boston Convention and Exhibition Center. It’s a lot bigger than I thought it’d be, and overflowing with ornate trade booths, from the imposing black cylinder where Ubisoft is showing Assassin’s Creed 3, to the crumbling ruins where one can play the latest Dungeon and Dragons Online expansion.
Before I even got there, I counted 5 people with N7 apparel – Commander Shepard’s armor in Mass Effect. I, in fact, think I saw carbon copies of myself a few times over, as well. If you’re in the market for warmly chubby, bearded, sleepless white guys, PAX East is where you want to be.
The convention hall itself looks like the kind of place where you store airplanes, not fantastic temples of marketing. The entrance to the conference is actually above the show floor by a story or two – so when you walk in, you get to look out across the thing in its entirety. I was overwhelmed. If you’ve never seen the floor of a major videogame convention, it’s something to behold. Massive structures and even bigger screens pop up everywhere, manned by an interesting concoction of developers and PR folk. It’s suspiciously difficult, at least to my untrained eye, to tell who is who.
And people stream in and out of these things like mad. All sorts of people – you have the neckbeards, as you would expect, but there’s still more people who I couldn’t call anything but normal. It’s a predominately male dominated event, but there is a large number of women around. What you really feel, though, is a sense of camaraderie and unabashed enthusiasm, from everyone. You don’t have to be ashamed to really, really be stoked on videogames. Not here.
Part of this trip is that I’m supposed to play games and write about them, mostly unreleased games. Previews, as we call them.
Here’s what I pictured: quietly, the writer crosses his legs and unbuttons his cardigan. He adjusts his glasses, uncaps the pen, opens the page, and plays, pausing to jot down notes. He expertly examines the level, left to drink it in as he progresses.
That’s not really how it goes.
If it’s anything like mine, this is what your first experience as a member of the ‘videogame press’ at a convention will be like:
You mull around the booth a little bit. How the hell do you start this kind of thing? Do you really want to usurp these casual con-goers so you can play a videogame and ‘report’ on it? What the hell do you have to say about a videogame if you only play it for twenty minutes while you essentially stand in the middle of a parade?
Eventually, you muster up the courage to smile weirdly at the PR guy and mutter, “I’m here for a press appointment.” They react with tenfold the enthusiasm. Seconds later, you’re plopped down in a cushioned stool. A tall, loud man conjures himself up beside you and gives you a breakneck tutorial. Later, you find out he is one of the game’s developers.
Playing the game is punctuated with people trying to tell you things about it. Mostly, about how good it will be when it is done. They talk about physics engines and metagames and all sorts of things. They’ll give you tons of encouragement, especially if you manage to deliver a critical blow to your opponent’s head. They’ll make casual remarks to their co-workers, things like, “He’s really got it down now!” Sometimes, people will say things to you, but you won’t hear it over the sub-woofer cacophony of the show floor.
You’ll find them grating at first, but those positive remarks will take their toll, and you’ll crack a smile. Maybe it’s because you’re bad at most games, and it’s nice to hear someone say you’re good. Nonetheless, you soldier on, tossing out half-heard comments to your teammates as you go.
When you’ve had your fill, it’s hard to know what to do. You’ll kind of look around, kind of smile, but no one will notice. So you stand up, and the PR guy conjures up beside you again, teeth beaming, hand extended. “Dude, thanks for stopping by!”
You suddenly realize this is your last chance to ask any questions. You don’t really have any questions. That was a really straightforward game. Does this dude even know what he’s talking about? You really need to ask a question.
So you do. It’s an easy one. He gives you an easy answer – you could’ve guessed! – but oh well, whatever. You act excited about the answer. You smile again. You look at your feet – don’t look at your feet! You say goodbye. You walk away.
Playing something on the show floor is a weird thing, really, because it takes away a lot of the stuff I like about games. Immersion dies. Sound, too. I demoed an upcoming MMORPG that touts story as its strong point – and I fucking love videogame stories – but amidst the crowds, the story just doesn’t resonate. Nothing resonates but the most apparent of a game’s qualities: graphics and mechanics. Stripped down to that, it’s easy to start looking at games in ways I’d normally find revolting. Places like PAX East highlight the more industrial, commercial design elements of games, the shock ‘n’ awe shit. Nuance, storytelling and art, I guess, have no place on the show floor. At the very least, they’re easily overlooked.
Some companies showed up armed to the teeth. Juggernaut games like Far Cry 3 and Max Payne 3 reign supreme over the floor, brandishing their gun play and graphics proudly. Playing quieter, more subtle games in the hellfire-stimuli of PAX East would leave one bored and disaffected. This is not a film festival, where you take things in from the dark and cool confines of a theater, where you have time and room and silence to think. Here, it’s all sweat and noise and rumbling. You can think later, parked in front of a laptop, but not while you’re in the center of it all.
Another thing you do at PAX East is attend panels. I went to three yesterday: one was a total bummer. It was titled ‘ The Future of Online Games,’ and featured developers from ArenaNet, En Masse Entertainment, Sony Online Entertainment, Trion Worlds, Funcom and 38 Studios. With such a thorough roster of people doing exciting things in the MMORPG space, I had high expectations. What I found there, though, was thoroughly boring – like the soulless copy they put on the back of game boxes brought to life. All I got was marketing speak, not insight.
The other two panels I attended had to do with games journalism: ‘Stuff Your Criticism, I Want A Review!’ featuring freelancer Dennis Scimeca, Kill Screen co-founder Chris Dahlen, Susan Arendt of The Escapist, Mitch Krpata, Video Game Critic for the Boston Phoenix and Ars Technica’s Kyle Orland. They covered the differences and intersections of games reviewing and games criticism – and where each of them belong. It was good, but nothing you wouldn’t find stewing regularly on Twitter.
Ben Kuchera, of the Penny Arcade Report, provided a fantastic close to my first day with his talk on longform journalism, titled ‘Taking the Long Road: The Penny Arcade Report Discusses Long-Form Journalism.’ Kuchera spoke passionately and candidly about his experiences in interviewing and writing about people around the industry, and offered a generous heaping of tips for aspiring games journalists. It was inspiring, and his genuine enthusiasm felt refreshing – not manufactured.
If you asked me to sum up my first day in one word, I would say, “Exhausting.” Also, “wallet-draining.” I paid $8.50 for measly portions of chicken fingers and fries. Excruciating, I know. By the time you read this, I’ll be in the midst of my second day. It promises many chances at redemption, as far as preview opportunities go – I’ve already got my cardigan buttoned up. And there’s a fresh smattering of panels, too. Expect an update from me sometime tomorrow, or Sunday, at the worst. Until then.
