Failed Experiments: An Analysis of Some Unfinished Projects

While cleaning out an old hard drive, I re-discovered several old, unfinished level concepts. While they're undeniably a mixed bag, I figured it would be an enlightening exercise to look back at what went wrong with each - as well as which tricks I learned to refine in the future.

Map 1: Sangelis Zoo

Premise: Inspired by the ruins of the old Los Angeles Zoo in Griffith Park, this exploration-themed level is probably the best laid out of the batch - which isn't saying much, as it's pretty jumbled and would benefit from a redesign. The player makes their way from an elevated canyon (A), down a long cramped stairway which leads into the first, and largest, cage area (B). Once outside, they find a road washed away by a flooded river (C), which leads past some smaller cages (D) and into a wooden observation platform (E). From there, they can take the staircase at the back of cage F, and leap over points G and H to make their way to the rooftops of the cages explored earlier.

What worked: While these chunky meshes are something I would never dream of working with these days, they do have a "prehistoric skeletal" feel that would be lost had I been wise enough to use more workable shapes. The map also marks the first use of one of my favorite perspective tricks - two rows of palm trees positioned on the other side of an inaccessible exit (in this case, the flooded road near the bottom), suggesting a road which lies just beyond the path-blocking obstacle.

What didn't: This map suffers from several big problems, the most obvious being that its building blocks are ugly, high-poly, and functionally impractical. This became painfully clear when trying to lay out the upper areas of the map, which led to the stage being scrapped. While this was based on a paper concept, it still feels extremely unfocused, and any second attempts at this concept would ditch the clumsy prehistoric cave feel for some strict geometry and a more open layout.

 

Map 2: Martian Memory

 

Premise: I was approached about working on an interplanetary shooter, described as a Mass Effect-like game during an early human colonial period. While I'm always skeptical of an indie project which names an enormous franchise as its inspiration point, I did throw together this conceptual sketch - a red Mars-like desert, with its deep ravines and organic cover designed with tense sniper battles in mind. The journey takes players from a relatively open valley (A) through some branching, dark crevices (B, C, and D). Upon reaching point E, they find a gradual slope which can be climbed to the towering rock formation (F) visible from key points in the earlier portions.

What worked: Once the player climbs to the plateau, the illusion that they are on an endless plain is surprisingly strong - with the chasm now forming a natural barrier preventing anyone from walking off the edge of the map. In retrospect, I should have started players with the plains view and then worked down into the valley, which would have been a great trick at enhancing scale. Testing the chasm out with placeholder enemies revealed some interesting cover dynamics - long, sporadic sniper battles are one of my favorite encounter types, and a map like this (with its long view distances and unpredictable corners) makes for tense moments and on-the-fly strategic experimentation.

 

What didn't: While designed for a linear project, this map would truly work better as a small open-world area, with more branches and pathways. The tall rock formation makes for a weak central element - though, with a more mazelike series of canals, it makes a nice anchor for lost players to try to get their bearings. But the big mistake - color has never been my strong point, but I'd say this garish pink and red scheme is one of my worst missteps in that department. I don't advise anyone look at the final screenshot without proper eye protection, or it could permanently damage your gaming abilities.

 

Map 3: Lake Shoshago

 
Premise: Another "proof of atmosphere" map, this one built for a small indie studio looking for a "Lovecraftian tone." I tend to forget that, while Lovecraft might mean psychological gloom and metaphysical paranoia to me, it seems to mean "survival horror" to many in the industry. But I digress. This rancid, volcanic Oregon lake is believed by the backwoods locals to be a sentient entity, and there are rumors that a secretive cult of natives once congregated in the circle of rocks in the central island.


What works: In short, not much. The towering background hills do succeed at creating a sense of scale, but it really just highlights the smallness of the map, as well as its poorly defined borders. The "daylight horror" atmosphere is okay, but doesn't make up for countless other shortcomings.
What doesn't: In short, almost everything. The straightforward spiral shape should make it obvious how little was planned out beforehand - it's essentially one half of a not-very-good map. However, there were some important lessons learned here regarding what not to do - namely, don't expect atmosphere alone to carry a piece.

 Map 4: Moran Bay

 Premise: This isn't so much a map, as it is a small virtual town somewhere in Washington State. Basically, I was concerned that my standard settings - either dystopian suburban or fatalist ruins - would seem depressing to anyone who doesn't follow the industry. So I built this "nice" town, with some ambitious architecture models and experiments in scale.

 What worked: The background has an immense feeling of scale thanks to a number of perspective tricks. For one, the billboard trees which cover the mountainside actually get smaller the further up they are - a subtle trick which, while expensive, works wonders. Distant mountains, like those across the bay, are treeless and silhouetted by fog - and so look further away than they are. While it doesn't show up in still images, the water level rises and drops with a wavelike rhythm - though I still think it needs some cheap effect (i.e. non-particle) to simulate foam.

 What didn't: I think the most important lesson learned is the value of simple, modular buildings. These structures are more complicated than they ever should be, and *so* much more could have been done by assembling isolated components (focusing around primitives) into full buildings. Fortunately, this map was never intended as a playable level - if it had been, I would be giving myself a hard time over the very haphazard building placement and use of too many tree types.