This post is part of a series of Blog Posts that I am writing for a class, Game Systems, at UC Santa Cruz.

Ludonarrative Dissonance in Games of the Collectathon Genre

One could argue that the “collectathon” genre started with the release of Super Mario 64 on the Nintendo 64 in 1996, but I am sure there are games that predate it that display traits one could classify as a “collectathon”. What a “collectathon” is, is a game that prioritizes the player’s exploration of a level by giving the player a list of objects they need to collect within that level, similar to a scavenger hunt. These games are typically also considered 3D platformers, as the method of movement needed to access these objectives typically involves exploration through platforming. Some examples of "collectathons" include Spyro the Dragon, Spongebob: Battle for Bikini Bottom, and Jak and Daxter, which all came out in a similar time period due to game designers following the success of  Super Mario 64. 

What a lot of these “collectathon” titles struggle with is the concept of Ludonarrative Dissonance. Ludonarrative Dissonance is the idea that what the game is asking the player to do through play is in too much contrast with what the game’s narrative is asking the player to do in their journey. This dissonance creates such a conflict that it affects the player’s enjoyment of the game, and I feel that many "collectathon" games struggle with this exact issue. 

How are these games perpetuating ludonarrative dissonance? Let’s take a look at Banjo-Kazooie to help us understand. The story of Banjo-Kazooie is fairly simple, and reads out similarly to a children’s book. While Banjo is sleeping in his bed, his little sister, Tootie, is abducted by an evil witch, Gruntilda, who is aiming to siphon all of Tootie’s beauty and take it for herself. The game begins with Banjo waking up to Kazooie trying to warn him of this kidnapping and then setting off on his journey to save his little sister. The premise of this narrative is one that is hammered home even deeper when players attempt to quit the game by exiting using the game’s in-game menu. After a player selects the option to save and quit, they are shown Gruntilda successfully siphoning Tootie’s beauty and proving victorious against Banjo and Kazooie, pressuring the player to stay on their task and finish the game as soon as possible. Banjo-Kazooie’s narrative setup provides an incredible amount of contrast to what the gameplay motivates the player to do.

So, we have established that Banjo-Kazooie’s narrative is one that emphasizes urgency and continuous play, so how does the gameplay provide such a dissonance? Banjo-Kazooie and games like it emphasize careful progression, as it hides so many collectables in hard to access areas, as well as emphasizing completionist behavior with many of the game’s features being locked away from the player until they have completed enough of the game. The jigsaw puzzles that open worlds, the note doors, the moves you learn from Bottles all require the player to fully search each level and take their time so they can play through as much of the game as possible. The game even goes so far as to give the player an incredible advantage against the final boss, should they collect all of the game’s possible collectibles. The game gives the player more leniency as the player is more patient and collects as much as possible, but this leniency is in direct conflict with the narrative’s urgency. This dissonance leaves the game’s narrative feeling like it was put in the game because it HAD to, not because it benefits the feeling of play. This problem quickly drains the narrative of its importance and leaves the player wandering and searching on their own quest, which is not one of heroism but one of greed and impulsive navigation.

This is not to say that the story in Banjo-Kazooie is bad in any way, but it does leave some problems on the table when considered in relation to the gameplay. What needs to be done to avoid Ludonarrative Dissonance when creating a “collectathon” game is to make sure that total completion of your game’s objectives fits in as a valid motivating factor for your game’s main character. Some games do this well, like the collection of Power Stars in Super Mario 64 needing to be collected to make Mario powerful enough to fight Bowser each time. But even in this example, the player can choose to beat the game after collecting 70 stars or keep collecting until all 120 stars are collected, which brings forth the confusing problem of trying to make optional total completion in a “collectathon” game fit within a narrative that emphasizes urgency. With all this said, finding a way to solve this problem is difficult, but I would suggest two methods of doing so. First, if your game allows and encourages total completion, avoid emphasizing urgency in your narrative. Secondly, if your game emphasizes collection of certain objects within your world, make sure that those objects make sense for the player to collect to progress the main character through the story. Avoid using collectables like coins, points, or stars because it could leave your game feeling generic, and instead create collectables that further connect the needs of the main character with that of the player.

Thanks for reading! This is the last of my Blog Posts for Game Systems, it has been an interesting experience and I really enjoyed the opportunity to refine ideas that I wanted to come back to in previous assignments.