A blog for game design, game writing, and game reviews.
The question of what makes a “good game” is too complicated to answer with a single article, but we know that the best games will grab players and keep them coming back. Some of the best selling and most positively received games of all time tout massive playtimes and enormous maps. Hits like Skyrim, Elden Ring, or Breath of the Wild have typical playtimes on the order of hundreds of hours. If we were to extrapolate this theory, then the best-selling video game of all time should have an infinitely large map. And it does.
Minecraft, with 238 million copies sold, is the ultimate example of selling an “infinite world”. I personally have probably clocked several thousand hours in the game between the beta, singleplayer, party multiplayer, servers, and the limitless mod options available. The map is procedurally generated: that is, the game uses algorithms to generate terrain on the fly, with a theoretically infinite (or very large, depending on the version and platform) world to explore. Minecraft inherited this feature from its primary inspiration (and one of my personal favorite games ever made), Dwarf Fortress.
It seems that many game designers and producers took away the message that “more world = more game”. After the success of Minecraft, procedurally-generated maps in survival video games have become nearly ubiquitous. A search on Steam for “Procedurally Generated” returns 2,614 results. The success of these games lies in their replayability. Games like Valheim or No Man’s Sky promise an unlimited world to explore, with every game being unique. Unlike the adventure/survival games of old, there’s no map memorization. There’s no repeated levels. You can, in theory, keep coming back and experiencing the world like it’s your first time.
The problem is, this promise often falls short. No Man’s Sky, on its release in 2016, was critically panned for a massive disconnect between what was promised and what was delivered. What promised to be an endless galaxy of new lifeforms and planets to discover, ended up being a $60 software capable of generating “18 quintillion” differently colored barren rocks with nothing to do on them. The quality of the experience suffered greatly in the pursuit of quantity. While the game has introduced dramatic improvements in the past few years, there’s still something about it that keeps me from becoming fully engrossed in it.
The best virtual world I’ve ever had the pleasure of exploring is Subnautica, published by Unknown Worlds Entertainment in 2014. The game places you in an alien ocean, and tasks you with surviving and exploring various biomes of increasing hostility. In this respect, the formula is similar to other survival titles such as Minecraft, Valheim, ARK: Survival Evolved, or RUST. Each biome has unique flora and fauna, geological structures, and a crisp, classic Sci-Fi aesthetic. Playing the game the first time, I was absolutely mesmerized by how real the game’s world felt. Every little discovery felt as if it had been hand-crafted for me to discover. Because it was.
Unlike the other survival titles mentioned, Subnautica’s map is hand-crafted. The developers placed every inch with intention and an eye for detail, beauty, and horror. Every player has the same map, and has to visit the same locations in the open-world environment to beat it. In fact, just posting the map itself is a major spoiler, and is flagged as such in online discussion of the game. There is no in-game map, forcing you to explore on your own and navigate with a compass and waypoints.
Many players in online discussions suggest that the game would have been better off with elements of procedural generation. That way, returning players could keep getting that sense of wonder they got when they first played. It was a frequently-requested feature for the sequel, Subnautica: Below Zero, as well.
In many ways, Subnautica is the alien world promised, but never delivered, by No Man’s Sky. I’m not the first to compare Subnautica to No Man’s Sky. Subnautica shines not in spite of, but because of the limits. The world of Subnautica is perfectly sized to always give the impression of vastness, but without ever running into needless repetition. There’s a pervasive feeling that this world was built for you to explore it, and that there will always be a reward for curiosity and boldness.
When it comes to video game map designs, bigger isn’t always better. The best movies aren’t considered good because they have long runtimes, but because of the quality of the experience. While games have a uniqueness and replayability that movies never will, the principle still holds true. The best games are replayable because of the joy of the world and the gameplay, not because you still haven’t turned over every rock (Ubisoft, take note).