The Decline and Fall of Angry Birds
Posted: August 29th, 2014, 4:51 pm
I came across a Business Insider article talking about the resignation of Rovio (Angry Birds) CEO Mikael Hed. Basically, the company is tanking because they bet it all on one franchise which they thought would spawn multimedia success with movie tie-ins, merchandise, etc. to rival Disney's best mascot-promotion efforts. As it turns out, this particular bubble has burst magnificently. BI's diagnosis of the situation is, in short, that
"The mobile games business is notoriously difficult: Games are essentially fads, and the Angry Birds fad is long over — eclipsed in part by Supercell's Clash of Clans and King's Candy Crush Saga."
So the mobile games industry is singularly flighty. Nothing we don't already know. What's particularly troubling about the widespread penetration of this sector of the gaming industry is the values it represents: slavish imitation, pandering, and, most importantly, manipulation.
1. Imitation
Every time I see a child with an Angry Birds t-shirt or lunchbox, a series of questions comes to mind. If I could approach that child and ask him about his Angry Birds merchandise without looking like a creeper, I'd ask "what does that mean?" I wonder what his or her reply would be. An incredulous look followed by confused silence, I'd wager.
What exactly do these characters represent? There was a time when cartoon mascots existed as part of a fictional narrative. You wanted a Road Runner tshirt because he was a hilarious trickster--you would root for him every time he outsmarted Wily Coyote. You had a connection to this character because he exemplified effortless guile, a character trait much-desired but seldom seen. You carried a Thomas the Tank Engine lunch box because he was a likable character who exemplified hard work, candor, and loyalty--he's the kind of friend anyone would want to have.
Nowadays, young girls are pushed to idolize Disney princesses wholly divorced from the fiction they are a part of. My nieces know Jasmine, Pocahontas, Tinkerbell, etc. by name as well as the color of each character's hair and dress. If I ask them to describe their personalities, however, all I get are blank stares. It's as if looking pretty and waiting for a handsome prince to come sweep you off your feet is all life is about.
I think what has happened with Angry Birds is that a corporation in the most cynical, opportunistic sector of the entertainment industry, mobile gaming, has decided to test out Disney's tried-and-true approach to merchandising fictional mascots. The only problem is that they forgot the key ingredient!--infusing their mascots with something, anything of meaning whatsoever! I may despise the way Disney treats its IPs these days, but at least they were able to successfully tap into something that (unfortunately) resonates with young girls in our society. What the heck is distinctive about Angry Birds? That they're angry? That they hate pigs for some reason?
2. Pandering
I'm convinced that the reason behind Candy Crush's success is the satisfying visuals and sound effects, the sparkles and flying numbers--essentially, the trappings of play that serve to stimulate repeated play. You'll notice that fad mobile games all share a few key similarities: repetition, short risk-reward cycles (although the risk itself is based on incentivizing purchases), and mechanical conservatism (imitation of past successes). Candy Crush, therefore, is just a reskinned Bejeweled, while Angry Birds is every physics-based 3rd-person shooter (Worms, Pocket Tanks). If I could develop a theory for the way the mobile games industry works it would look remarkably similar to the fashion industry.
3. Manipulation
My girlfriend showed me a dot-based puzzle game that she was playing on her iPhone the other day and I gave it a spin. It was superficially free to play (but allowed in-app purchases of extra lives). As I played, I began to notice an insidious pattern. The first attempt of every level was always impossible to win. After each failure, the game prompts you to purchase extra lives for a buck (!). If you deny it twice, the level then becomes extremely easy. Like--first level of Tetris easy. The game was manipulating me into buying extra lives rather than starting over from the beginning, but when it found out that I wasn't the paying type, it scaled the difficulty down so far as to not even be fun anymore. It did give me a congratulatory display of fireworks when I succeeded, though! It was quite aesthetically pleasing!
Read more: http://www.businessinsider.com/rovio-new-ceo-pekka-rantala-succeeds-mikael-hed-2014-8#ixzz3BoTPeMAy
"The mobile games business is notoriously difficult: Games are essentially fads, and the Angry Birds fad is long over — eclipsed in part by Supercell's Clash of Clans and King's Candy Crush Saga."
So the mobile games industry is singularly flighty. Nothing we don't already know. What's particularly troubling about the widespread penetration of this sector of the gaming industry is the values it represents: slavish imitation, pandering, and, most importantly, manipulation.
1. Imitation
Every time I see a child with an Angry Birds t-shirt or lunchbox, a series of questions comes to mind. If I could approach that child and ask him about his Angry Birds merchandise without looking like a creeper, I'd ask "what does that mean?" I wonder what his or her reply would be. An incredulous look followed by confused silence, I'd wager.
What exactly do these characters represent? There was a time when cartoon mascots existed as part of a fictional narrative. You wanted a Road Runner tshirt because he was a hilarious trickster--you would root for him every time he outsmarted Wily Coyote. You had a connection to this character because he exemplified effortless guile, a character trait much-desired but seldom seen. You carried a Thomas the Tank Engine lunch box because he was a likable character who exemplified hard work, candor, and loyalty--he's the kind of friend anyone would want to have.
Nowadays, young girls are pushed to idolize Disney princesses wholly divorced from the fiction they are a part of. My nieces know Jasmine, Pocahontas, Tinkerbell, etc. by name as well as the color of each character's hair and dress. If I ask them to describe their personalities, however, all I get are blank stares. It's as if looking pretty and waiting for a handsome prince to come sweep you off your feet is all life is about.
I think what has happened with Angry Birds is that a corporation in the most cynical, opportunistic sector of the entertainment industry, mobile gaming, has decided to test out Disney's tried-and-true approach to merchandising fictional mascots. The only problem is that they forgot the key ingredient!--infusing their mascots with something, anything of meaning whatsoever! I may despise the way Disney treats its IPs these days, but at least they were able to successfully tap into something that (unfortunately) resonates with young girls in our society. What the heck is distinctive about Angry Birds? That they're angry? That they hate pigs for some reason?
2. Pandering
I'm convinced that the reason behind Candy Crush's success is the satisfying visuals and sound effects, the sparkles and flying numbers--essentially, the trappings of play that serve to stimulate repeated play. You'll notice that fad mobile games all share a few key similarities: repetition, short risk-reward cycles (although the risk itself is based on incentivizing purchases), and mechanical conservatism (imitation of past successes). Candy Crush, therefore, is just a reskinned Bejeweled, while Angry Birds is every physics-based 3rd-person shooter (Worms, Pocket Tanks). If I could develop a theory for the way the mobile games industry works it would look remarkably similar to the fashion industry.
3. Manipulation
My girlfriend showed me a dot-based puzzle game that she was playing on her iPhone the other day and I gave it a spin. It was superficially free to play (but allowed in-app purchases of extra lives). As I played, I began to notice an insidious pattern. The first attempt of every level was always impossible to win. After each failure, the game prompts you to purchase extra lives for a buck (!). If you deny it twice, the level then becomes extremely easy. Like--first level of Tetris easy. The game was manipulating me into buying extra lives rather than starting over from the beginning, but when it found out that I wasn't the paying type, it scaled the difficulty down so far as to not even be fun anymore. It did give me a congratulatory display of fireworks when I succeeded, though! It was quite aesthetically pleasing!
Read more: http://www.businessinsider.com/rovio-new-ceo-pekka-rantala-succeeds-mikael-hed-2014-8#ixzz3BoTPeMAy