Friday, February 26, 2021

Gamemaster: It's all in how you play

Gamemaster (2020) • View trailer
3.5 stars. Not rated, and suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.12.21

Full disclosure: Constant Companion and I owned and ran a board game and puzzle store from fall 1978 through winter 1997. So, yes; I’m more interested than most, when it comes to this topic.

 

Charlie Bink, designer of the board game "Trekking the National Parks," contemplates
whether to tweak the rules one more time. Note his game's high-quality wooden and
glass components.


But don’t assume that such a specific level of interest is required, to embrace director Charles Mruz’s engaging little documentary. You’ll get by with even rudimentary knowledge. Besides which, we all grew up playing board and card games, whether with friends or family.

 

(And many of us still do…)

 

That said, be advised: This film — available via Amazon Prime and other streaming outlets — eschews historical content. No time is spent discussing the creation of vintage board game classics such as Snakes and Ladders, Monopoly, Candy Land and Scrabble; or how the very nature of games has evolved. (Consider the seismic shifts that occurred in the wake of Pictionary and Trivial Pursuit.)

 

Instead, Mruz’s film adopts the format that made earlier documentaries — such as 2002’s Spellbound, and 2018’s Science Fair — so entertaining. We meet and follow the progress of four would-be game designers, as they navigate the discipline’s necessary trials and tribulations.

 

You think it’s hard to get a book published? Try bringing a game to the retail market.

 

Mruz chose well. Each of his four subjects is personable, creative, enthusiastic and delightfully humble: well aware of the difficult path ahead.

 

Scott Rogers, a former video game designer and Disney engineer, began designing his first-ever tabletop game while undergoing chemotherapy for stage 4 Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. The process was its own former of therapy, as it gave him something on which to focus.

 

“I’m a really big Star Wars fan,” he cheerfully recalls, “and I went, I wanna make a Star Wars game. And my friend said, ‘Pfft, forget Star Wars, make your own damn Star Wars. And I’m like, Yeah, I could make my own damn Star Wars.” 

 

The result, dubbed “Rayguns and Rocketships,” became all-consuming: play-testing, fine-tuning the rules, play-testing, making the components, play-testing … you get the idea. 

 

Charlie Bink’s parents, over time, traveled to all of the U.S. national parks. That proved inspirational; the three of them collaborated on the development of a gorgeous board game titled “Trekking the National Parks.” (Veteran gamers will adore the high-quality components.)

 

The toughest part — as Bink admits — involved the degree to which he and his folks didn’t always see eye-to-eye, with respect to publishing options and running a small business. Early on, Bink believes it important that the game be an American product, given its focus. But that pushes the potential price-point higher than seems practical.

 

What, then, to do?

 

Jason Serrato designed his game, “Thug Life,” to reflect his own childhood experiences, while growing up in 1980s Pico Rivera, in Southern California, along with his fondness for late ’90s pop and street culture. He quickly faced two obstacles: His desire for the playing pieces to be metal mini-figures made the game prohibitively expensive; and his decision to finance the game via crowd-funding led to blow-back from folks who found the theme … well … tasteless.

 

This surprised Serrato, who genuinely didn’t view it that way. “It’s like a kind of love letter to the streets,” he insists, acknowledging that a lot of folks “…judged the game based on its cultural look.”

 

So it’s back to the drawing board.

 

Nashra Balagamwala, finally, is the most captivating of this quartet. The Pakistani-born young woman created her game, “Arranged!,” as a means of poking gentle fun at her native country’s tradition of arranged marriages. The game also reflects her own personal refusal to participate in this custom; she’s a forthright speaker on behalf of her sisterhood.

 

That makes her quite brave — something Mruz’s film doesn’t acknowledge — when her initial visa expires, and she’s forced to return to Pakistan. Her ultimate goal is more consequential than this film’s other three subjects; she hopes to earn enough from game sales, to return to the United States with a work visa, and continue her goal of becoming a designer.

 

This film’s “voice of experience” is Elan Lee, co-creator of the improbable hit game “Exploding Kittens,” which became a Kickstarter legend on par with Brad Pitt being “discovered” in 1991’s Thelma & Louise. Lee and co-designer Matthew Inman sought a modest $10,000 when they posted their Kickstarter campaign on Jan. 20, 2015.

 

That goal was achieved in eight minutes (!), and — upon completion of the campaign — Lee and Inman had raised $8.8 million from 219,382 backers.

 

Needless to say, their future is assured. No surprise, then, that folks such as Balagamwala, Rogers, Serrato and Bink hope to catch that same rainbow.

 

We also meet the genial Klaus Teuber, developer of the iconic 1995 game “Settlers of Catan”; and prolific board game designer Reiner Knizia. Both hail from Germany, from where — as those in the know are aware — many of the world’s best games have come, for many decades now. (Look no further than the massive and enormously popular Ravensburger line.)

 

Knizia also sports one of the world’s coolest bow ties.

 

(Alan Moon, the British designer of the popular game “Ticket to Ride” — among many, many others — is name-checked, but apparently chose not to participate on camera.)

 

Budding developers can shop their concepts — and make connections — at the industry’s most important annual gaming conventions: Gen Con, North America’s largest game convention, held in Indianapolis; and Essen Spiel, a four-day board game trade fair held each October in Essen, Germany, which hands out the highly coveted Spiel des Jahres Award each year.

 

Think San Diego’s Comic Con, but (for the most part) without the cos-play. The size and scope of both cons are breathtaking, the enthusiasm off the charts.

 

And — let it be said — Lee and Inman mount the most incredible booth I’ve ever seen, when this film visits Gen Con. You’ve simply never seen audience participation like this.

 

So: While the subject of Mruz’s documentary can be considered “niche,” the execution is both approachable and (at times) quite fascinating. And, as to how our four neophyte designers fare…


…well, you’ll just have to roll the dice — which is to say, watch this film — to find out.

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