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Josh Mandel By Randy
Sluganski June 1999 Besides
being a gourmet cook and a stand-up comic, Josh Mandel is also the author of some
of the most beloved games in the industry. Freddy Pharkas, Callahan's Crosstime
Saloon and Space Quest are just a few of the products that Josh Mandel has either
created or had a hand in developing.
Randy joined with Josh for a
rock 'em, sock 'em, no-holds-barred interview that delves into the inner psyche
of this creative individual. Josh was at first reluctant to speak, but once he
got going, there was no stopping him. First, the question
that all America is asking: Josh Mandel--Howie Mandel, any relation?
No, no, a thousand times no! This question dogged me all throughout my comedy
career. Yikes. I shudder at the very thought. Have you ever
blown up a rubber glove and worn it on your head in public?
Never, because you get that powder all over your forehead. I mean, that's
what I heard. Yeah, that's it, that's what I heard from cousin Howie.
I mean ... d'oh! Can you talk yet about the project
you are working on for Sega? Is it adventure-related? For the Dreamcast?
I'm not actually working on any one project, but rather overseeing the design
of many of our first-party titles for the Dreamcast. There are none which I would
classify as pure adventures. You have been very vocal about
your beliefs concerning large companies commercializing the industry. Haven't
you become part of the system by working for Sega? I like
to think of myself as an infection, injected into a large company to try to shrink
it, much like Preparation H shrinks hemorrhoidal tissues. I think Sega sees me
that way, too. Actually, I came to Sega for one reason: to work with Kurt
Busch. Kurt was the head of Creative Services for Sierra On-Line several years
ago, was the editor of the Sierra Magazine (later InterAction),
and we worked together on a lot of projects. He had already worked at Sega (as
editor of Sega Visions) and left, but the chance to work on the introduction
of a product as cool as the Dreamcast lured him back. I was similarly enticed,
by the chance to work with Kurt again, by the Dreamcast, and by Eric Hammond (the
VP of Product Development here at the time; he's an ex-Sierra programmer himself
and the designer of One on One, the original EA basketball game). I also
wanted a chance to learn about the console side of the game industry. I
didn't feel I was selling out by working for Sega. I don't perceive any company--big
or small--as inherently evil ... unless I see them doing things (or they ask me
to do something) that I know to be wrong. In the console wars, as far I've
been able to tell, Nintendo has been the "dirty tricks" company and
Sega hasn't. But in an exclusive article for Just Adventure,
you wrote, "games like KQ:MoE and LSL7 have a distinctly different
flavor than the seat-of-the-pants, funny, touching adventures that Oakhurst once
produced. They are commercial." Roberta Williams in an interview with JA
responded, "it's important that people understand, Josh Mandel included,
that things change and tastes change. The adventure game has to change also ...
If experiments are not done to find how to mainstream the genre or to make it
more 'commercial' for today's audience, it will die ... and then everybody loses.
Those 'purists' may have gotten their way to keep adventure games from evolving,
but all they would have really succeeded in is helping to kill it." Two leaders
in the field and two distinct opinions. Is there a middle ground here, or is one
of you totally out of touch with today's market? I don't
think we're in disagreement. If anything, I think she was agreeing with me that
KQ8 was an attempt to be more commercial. But I disagree with the characterization
of MoE as "experimental," and I think the approach taken with
KQ8:MoE was a departure for Roberta. Commerciality has a negative
connotation, but it's not a filthy word. A product can be commercial and have
merit on other levels at the same time. Sequels are almost purely commercial,
but it's rare to find a sequel that has artistic innovations at the same time
... they're most often refinements (and not always good refinements) of their
original material. Healthy commercial innovation comes from the games that you
don't know are going to be commercial until after they're released. Taking chances
... that's where the real new growth comes into the industry. Historically,
one of Roberta's strengths was her desire to innovate. KQ1 innovated in
a pretty fundamental way; it's easily identified as the great grandparent to Grim
Fandango and Gabriel Knight 3. But other KQs also went farther
to innovate than most sequels, they tried to be more than just incremental improvements.
KQ4 set a graphics standard, but, more importantly, created a demand--practically
overnight--for a little thing called the "sound card." That was a risk;
that was not merely catering reactively to an already-established taste. KQ5
then set a standard for graphics that lasted for years, anticipating the widespread
adoption of VGA. Again, that was a risk, an investment in new technology that
hadn't yet become mainstream. With varying degrees of success, most of the
KQs tried for something dramatically new. KQ8, though, is
not proactive, but entirely reactive. Today's market is heavily
into 3D, so they put in 3D ... despite the fact that that "improvement"
meant that they had to abandon artistic style, the style that only hand-painted
graphics offer. That's not experimentation; there's no question that 3D is more
popular than 2D. Today's market is heavily combat-oriented, so they did that,
too, even though that abandons the "live-and-let-live" morality that
KQ typically espoused. Again, that's not experimentation, just the adoption
of a commonly used play mechanic to curry favor with the audience. Basically,
all of the new features in KQ8 were elements that might've been new to
the series but were not new to many other (successful) action/adventure games.
This is a more commercial--I would say cynical--approach than the "we've-got-something-you've-never-seen-or-heard-before"
approach that characterized Roberta's notable successes. There was no forward-thinking,
no risk-taking. It was a conservative approach, typical of larger companies who
are trying to cater more to investors than to "evolving" the genre as
Roberta claimed to want to do. Why are you opposed to larger
companies, such as Hasbro, eating up smaller companies? With their marketing muscle
and deep pockets, isn't it possible that they could actually rejuvenate the adventure
industry? It's certainly possible that the genre will
be rejuvenated by a large company. In fact, the odds are in the large companies'
favor because small companies can no longer afford to compete without the cooperation
of one of the few biggies with a stranglehold on conventional distribution. But
I think it's more likely that some plucky homegrown band of developers will create
an evolutionary game. They'll market it more or less by themselves, probably through
the Internet, and it will catch on like crazy ... much like Ken and Roberta's
garage operation did, or Wolfenstein 3-D, or many of the other rags-to-riches
success stories. This hot new developer may have to hook up with a large
existing corporation (like the Millers did with Broderbund), one that can afford
to publish and (hopefully) promote this new game. So the large company does serve
a necessary purpose. But large companies are also swallowing small innovative
developers at a fantastic pace and, sooner or later, breaking them apart, turning
them into sequel mills, and beauracratizing away the spirit that probably made
the little developer's product successful in the first place. It's not an
every-single-time occurrence, but I'd peg it at 98%. Look at Pyrotechnix.
If they had remained independent--the way Valve has stayed independent of Sierra--Pyrotechnix
might still be in existence today. Broderbund sold out to the Learning Company,
massacring their Red Orb game division in the process. Origin now belongs to EA,
who halted work on several of their proposed new series in favor of more sequels.
Sierra On-Line sold itself to Cendant/CUC, a large corporation whose corrupt accounting
practices wiped out those long-time Sierra employees who had spent years investing
their life's blood in SOL. Blizzard employees were also bankrupted in that scandal;
Blizzard then lost many of their best people to Fugitive Software. Then Sierra
was resold to the French company Havas, and now most of the original Oakhurst
SOL employees have been sacked and nearly all adventure game development has been
halted. This is a good thing? Well, if you're the one who sold the company, yes,
you made a lot of money. As far as the industry goes, the only accomplishments
here are putting creative people on the breadline and reducing choices for gamers. Dave
Grenewetzki declined to renew Al Lowe's contract, and Al's latest game sold in
excess of 250,000 units. That's not closing off an unprofitable genre; that's
a rather deliberate effort to kill off whatever part of the adventure game market
is profitable. I know that sometimes these smaller companies must
sell out to larger companies in order to survive. Dynamix couldn't meet its payroll
when Sierra acquired it in 1990. But one also needs to examine whether or not
it's worth saving something at the expense of its identity. If the goal is to
make money by any means possible, obviously the answer is yes. If the goal is
to uphold standards for the products, then the answer is no. Legend, for instance,
survived by being acquired by GT Interactive. Is that good because it keeps people
employed? Absolutely! But is it good that Legend, which once stood for the highest
standards of interactive storytelling, is going towards making Unreal sequels
and Unreal add-on packs? Hell, no, what a waste of some of the best talent
in the industry. Do companies need to lower their expectations
for adventure game sales, or are the consumers just not being supportive?
Companies need to realize that sooner or later, adventure games--in some form--will
come back into fashion, and whoever gets there first will win. Adventure games
may not be lucrative right now, in fact they frequently lose money. But,
as has happened with RPGs and strategy games, tastes change ... and the companies
who are investing in adventure game development now will be in great shape
later on. Other companies will be left in the dust, playing catch-up. Investors
are, sadly, not interested in the general health of the industries they invest
in. So they encourage double-digit growth of their investments. But quality suffers
as a result of explosive growth. Companies don't survive that kind of growth intact;
they become chaotic, and they lose their best people. There are all kinds
of ways to support the adventure game industry. If you want to see the genre flourish,
that doesn't mean you have to buy every adventure game that comes out. Nor should
you, because if you do, you're supporting bad development as well as good development. What
can you do? The biggest thing is to write letters. And I don't mean email
letters, because every Tom, Dick and Harry writes emails at the drop of a hat,
and executives just trash 'em. Actually composing, printing, and sending a letter,
one that's brief and well-written (and not full of typos, exclamation points and
hot-headed accusations), is very powerful. Write to the companies that create
games you like; tell them how much you liked it, why you liked it, and
that you'd like to see more. Write to the companies that don't create adventure
games, or have stopped doing adventure games, and ask them to start. As
you're doing that, make sure you send copies to plenty of people, such as the
Director of Marketing and VP of Product Development. (Find out the names of these
titleholders first, of course; letters to "The VP of Product Development"
will be tossed out unread.) And some of the most powerful people you can write
to are the chief stockholders and the Board of Directors. That will take a little
digging; you'll have to get a copy of the company's Annual Report. (The companies
will generally send you a free copy; just call them and tell them you're thinking
of investing.) The chief stockholders love to get mail telling them what
the consumers really think of their product line. I've seen more
action taken in this industry because a single consumer wrote a powerful letter
(brief, neat, and to the point) to a major shareholder than I've ever seen from
all the crudely written, chest-thumping Internet petitions. Also, support
the shareware text adventure community. The shareware text adventures are labors
of love, not attempts to cash in. The next great thing in adventures may well
come from one of these authors. What are you suggestions
for making the adventure genre viable once again? Or do you feel that it will
be relegated to a web-site, mail-order cottage industry? I
like to think it's cyclical. RPGs and RTS games were not viable genres five years
ago; now they have come back into favor. I don't see any reason to think the same
won't happen for adventures. Tastes change. You have worked
with a lot of famous game designers. Who do you respect the most? Is there anyone
you would never work with again? I can't pick just one
name as far as designers I respect the most. I like Christy Marx, Steve Meretzky,
Brian Moriarty, Jane Jensen, Bob Bates, Glen Dahlgren, Ron Gilbert ... and I can't
think of a single designer I'd never want to work with again. I can certainly
say there's a publisher I'd never want to work with again: Take 2 Interactive,
the folks who published Callahan's Crosstime Saloon. Take 2 reneged on
contracts and payments (as they've done with many other developers); they initially
advertised the game as a western (nobody there had bothered to play it,
they just saw the word "Saloon" in the title and figured it was a western);
they shipped a beta version to consumers; they never bothered to do a press release;
they did only two ads for the game (the last ad was in January magazines, but
they didn't ship the game 'til late April); and they cheaped out on the package
contents. They are the bottom of the barrel of the games industry, as anyone knows
who bought Battlecruiser, or Iron and Blood, or who bought Black
Dahlia for its falsely advertised DOS support. Which
of your games are you most proud of? Which one do you wish would disappear from
your resume? I'm most proud of Freddy Pharkas and
Callahan's. There are elements of both I'd change, though. I never really
wanted all the scatological humor in Freddy, because I thought Blazing
Saddles had covered that to perfection with the campfire fart scene. And I
had expected with Callahan's to have a chance to go back and cull out those
gags and puns that didn't work to my satisfaction. There wasn't time. Can't
think of any games I'd like to have disappear from my resume, but I kinda wish
I hadn't agreed to co-author The Laffer Utilities. Fortunately, only three
or four people bought it. You are renowned for your culinary
skills. Who would you rather see make an adventure game--Julia Child or the Galloping
Gourmet? Julia Child, definitely. I like an adventure game
with lots of butter and cheese. Can you pinpoint the beginning
of the recent malaise in the adventure genre? It started
when consumers stopped buying games for their content and started buying games
to show off their hardware. Suddenly all these little game companies, employing
a few artists and programmers, had to expand enormously to survive, with sound
stages and recording studios and a stable of professional actors. Games that used
to cost less than $100,000 to develop now cost millions, and the little shops
could no longer compete. Innovation became too risky, marketability became paramount,
and we started to get tons of licensed crap and me-too games. How
does one become a writer for the PC gaming industry? Writers
and designers in the industry are, as they always have been, mostly promoted from
within ... and from job titles that did not originally call for writing and designing.
I was hired as a producer. Al Lowe was a programmer. Scott Murphy was Customer
Service. Mark Crowe and Jon "Lighthouse" Bock were artists. If
I were starting out, I would get a job--any job, but preferably an art
or programming job--with the company I want to design for. I'd kick ass for awhile,
become the kind of indispensable employee that everybody wants on their team.
I'd contribute to the design wherever the designer would allow. And I'd keep doing
that until somebody in management decided to put me in charge of a game. Or
I'd take the other kind of route: establish yourself as a writer in more mainstream
fields first (write a book and get it published, write a screenplay or teleplay
and get it produced) and then go to a multimedia headhunter. Fewer design positions
are meted out to people from outside the industry, but there are lots of potential
employers who go ga-ga for a legitimately published or produced writer. Which
of your creations would you most want to have dinner with?
Baa-bette the Sheep from Freddy Pharkas. Lamb chops ... mmmm! Do
you think that the meaning of the words parody and satire are lost
on today's gameplayers? For the most part, no. I suspect
you're referring to the guy on the adventure games newsgroup who assumed that
the description I'd written of the game Boom! in the Bargain Bin in Space
Quest 4 was actually a straightforward "review" reflecting what
I'd thought of Brian Moriarty's game Loom. Well, that was just plain silly,
and this person simply does not understand the meaning of parody, but he is the
exception. I loved Loom and I was parodying, more than anything else, the
weird marketing of the thing, which cried, "It has no parser! It has no word
menus! There are no sentences to construct! There are no dialogue trees!"
I mean, it was a clever campaign that drew attention to the unique musical interface,
but it was also bizarre in that it consisted of all negatives ... all these things
the game didn't have. So I made fun of that, in what I thought was a good-natured
way, especially given that we took pains to parody ourselves in a much more biting
fashion. Anyway, this guy probably reads "Spy vs. Spy" and thinks
that the editors of Mad are telling us what they really think of professional
undercover agents. But people like this are in the minority; most gamers have
very good senses of humor. You have to have a sense of humor to play computer
games, because so much of the experience is screwing up and trying again. You
have said on the newsgroups that "if integrity in gaming matters, then Blackstone
[Chronicles] is a must have." Can you elaborate on this?
Blackstone Chronicles is a game that really emphasizes the values that
helped build the genre in the first place. Yeah, the graphics are very high-quality
and the voicework is superb, but it's strong on plot and characterization. It
doesn't pander to the action game market with arcade sequences. The puzzles are
solidly integrated into the story. Hints to the puzzle solutions are all there,
but they're subtle; you have to examine the locations critically, to think
about what you've seen and heard. If you pay attention to your surroundings,
and you pay attention to what the characters say, then the solutions are all right
there ... the way it used to work in the Infocom days, where thought and exploration
and observation of cause and effect were what led to success. And like a good
book, it takes its time revealing itself. It unfolds slowly and steadily. These
are matters of integrity to me. Anyone can scatter a few machine parts or keys
around, as in Tomb Raider, and then claim they've created a synthesis of
action and adventure. That's ridiculous. The adventure element in Tomb Raider
and similar games is an insult to gamers' intelligence, devoid of any cleverness
or style. It takes integrity to spend the time and money and invest the thought
in creating a classic piece of adventure gaming, especially with the knowledge
that this kind of craftsmanship is far less commercial than most of the glitzy
crap on the shelves. If you were to do a sequel to Callahan's
Crosstime Saloon, would you consider using Pamela Anderson Lee as one of the
characters? Certainly, if I had a puzzle where I needed
a flotation device. Why are adventure games more popular
in Europe than in North America? This just demonstrates
the cyclical nature of the games industry. Six years ago, you couldn't sell an
adventure game in Europe. You seem to like to "mix
it up" with the newsgroup posters. Is this your way of keeping in touch with
the consumers, or are you just a naturally gregarious person?
More of the latter, I think. The newsgroups are interesting, but they're not
representative of the market as a whole. Just look at how many people on the newgroup
despise Myst. That's the hardcore gamers speaking, it's not the voice of
the majority. For me, the newsgroup takes the place of CompuServe's Gamers
Forum, where I used to be a SysOp. Once AOL bought CompuServe, I had to leave;
I didn't want to watch the Gestapo take over. What do you
see in the future for Josh Mandel and for the adventure game industry?
Reply hazy. Try again later. Feel free
to visit Josh's personal
web page.
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