Jiituomas (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} jiituomas) wrote,@ 2006-11-16 00:12:00 |
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Post-Bjorneborgan Manifesto, revisited
Today I got mail from a person interested in my old Larp Manifesto, that of the Post-Bjorneborgan school. Instead of mailing it to her, I present it here. There's also some commentary included, because despite having written it on lark near the year's end, 2000, it contains a lot of the basic ideas I still implement in my own games. The tone is just somewhat less satirical these days. While reading, kep in mind that this was made as a "my way of doing things is:" diocument, not a demand for all larps to follow this dogma.
So:
Rules of the Post-Bjorneborgan School, as they were written in 2000.
1. A Larp is primarily an experience. It is neither a competition nor a form of theatrical expression
Reality: The larps I make tend to follow this idea. I want them to provide communal experiences to the participants, something that they experience together (as opposed to individual experiences) but from a personal character/player perspective (as opposed to collective experiences). I am also happy that others are making larps that cater to other interests, including the ones mentioned in Rule #1.
2. The crucial component of a good game is a correct selection of players. Everything else is secondary.
Reality: Partially true. These days I believe in an equation of "player selection + good concept + sufficient game preparation = at least 80% of the potential a larp has to succeed". But of those three, good players are still the most important thing. Even a lousy larp can be great with good people, but with bad players everything falls apart - regardless of game concept.
3. Players are selected using three criteria: The ability to immerse oneself into a character's personality, physical attractiveness, and the willingness to alter one's behavior to fit the game's needs. Every player must meet at least two of these criteria, and there must be a sufficiently strong reason why the third criterion was not met
Reality: This the one people most joked about. Which was, of course, quite intentional. But in a more serious tone, this rule is about both acknowledging that a larp and its players have to match and that people are indeed influenced by extradiegetic concerns. To provide new player experiences through character experiences, the player's and character's relationship has to be strong enough. Or, if you want a more activity-based game, weak enough. But immersion isn't the end-goal: a selfish immersionist gains nothing and lessens the impact for all. Balance between immersion, yielding and external influence is required for optimal experiential play.
4. At least one famous player is to be left out. This is done in order to emphasize the Elite status of the game. ("It was so exclusive even X wasn't invited.")
Reality: Of course this is pure crap. However, one needs to acknowledge that the perceived status of a game will always influence both actual play and the post-game impression left by the larp to players and non-participants hearing about it alike.
5. At least one promising newbie must be invited, in order to both avoid the stigma of an "iniders only" game and to train a new generation of Elite players.
Reality: Again, training "Elites" is idiotic. But the experimental larp scene does need to find new players, and it needs to share its findings with the rest of the larp community. Otherwise both will eventually wither and die. And lets not forget that larping with the same few people every single time gets boring pretty fast. So new blood equals better larps for all, whether the newcomers loved or hated your game.
6. A player who has been accepted to the game is a paying customer whose wishes must be taken into accountm if it is at all possible. Paying too much attention to the external elements of the game instead of the characters is equal to directly insulting the players.
Reality: This is something every larp designer should, in my opinion, follow. Respect your player-customers: If you forget to, say, send some of the material to them, it is your responsibility to fix the problem, even if that means buying them necessary props, etc. And do not copy-paste characters. Do not send half the game budget on a piece of decoration just one player out of the 200 participants will see. Players, as both customers and as the most important resource of your larp, deserve better.
7. The characters are to be written in a scale befitting the game. The smaller, the better. Excessive, redundant character information only reduces the gaming experience.
Reality: I stand by this one, too. I really hate the assholes who think (and very loudly preach) that text length equals quality. Not true. "Efficiency" is the real key word in character material. Of course there is much value in including material from the "four D's" (Dressing, Decoration, Decoys, Distractions - i.e. everything from a tiny, nice character-building quirk to a lost brother who just does not appear at all during the game), but pointless family history doesn't build a character. It's just, well, pointless. Going with the bare minimum, with some little extras from the 4D's, is optimal. Sometimes it's just three lines in 10 point script. At other times, it's 40 pages. Siply go with what's necessary.
8. A player is selected for each character in a manner suitable to the game. In this, the needs of the game take precedence over the wishes of the players. Characters are tools of the gaming experience, not a form of personal escapism or an experiment at a player's ideal self-image.
Reality: The game designer has a better comprehension about the larp's contents. So he/she knows best who should play whom. Larps should not cater (except, maybe, incidentally) to escapist or power-gaming whims. To serve one selfish player is to risk everyone else's game experience - the one thing you're organizing the whole damn game for. This part also refers to the fact that a good typecast, as long as it does not become a repeated routine, may benefit a larp immensely.
9. The player creates the depiction of a character. A character may never be a depiction of the player.
Reality: Once you have given the character to a player, that character is both the player's property and his responsibility. He should not alter it, but neither may you direct its actions. Unless you both agreed in advance that it's an NPC role, that is. Furthermore, even a "you are playing yourself, under these particular circumstances" situation does not mean a player is playing herself. A character should always be a separate entity, even when she shares multiple traits (or next to everything) with her player. Problem areas exist, of course: for example, what happens if it would be diegetically logical for your character to insult the weight of a character played by a player with serious body weight issues? Also, this is yet another warning about letting people play their escapist/sexual/powergaming fantasies at the expense of your larp.
10. The use of simulation is to be minimized. All game mechanics reduce from the totality of the gaming experience.
Reality: "Minimized". That means the mechanics are to be kept to a minimum, not kept completely out of the game. Good rules, depictations and mechanics for everything from sex to gunshots and swordfights are a must. Any clever soul understands that mechanics do indeed lessen the totality of the experience - but they are nevertheless necessary. And, that soul should also keep in mind the fact that not using rules may be a choice and not something caused by the organizer(s) not knowing a load of suitable rules. Just because in the Nordic area rules are often kept to a minimum one should not take as a given that potential mechanics have not been explored here. Nevertheless, if you want an incredibly powerful larp experience, you really can't punctute it with dozens of rock-paper-scissor throws.
11. At least one demon must be include in every game.
Reality: Oh eyes, the real "supposed joke". As some know, before the Post-Bjorneborgan school there was a Bjorneborgan school, based on the town where I used to live (and I couldn't become Turku School number two, right). The only difference in the two Manifests was that the original lacked Rule #11. So: what's in a demon? Two things, really. The first, simple, one is that I noticed that every single one of the games I'd been doing uring the last five years had at least one demon. The second, far more important thing was that ythe (suspected, real or not) presence of a demon sets the game's "reality level" to a default of "magical realism" (as in the South American literary style). Thus whenever the players of a Post-Bjorneborgan game encounter something inexplicable, they treat is as something that is really strange in in-game, not as a GM fuck-up. And that's really valuable, especially when one wants to make larps about low-key supernatural horror. (I know I do.)
So. That's all about the Post-Bjorneborgan dogma for now. Keep in mind that it's just my (somewhat outdated) way, not the way I demand(ed) everyone should follow. I'd be damn bored if every larp designer would walk in someone else's footprints, mine or another's.
Today I got mail from a person interested in my old Larp Manifesto, that of the Post-Bjorneborgan school. Instead of mailing it to her, I present it here. There's also some commentary included, because despite having written it on lark near the year's end, 2000, it contains a lot of the basic ideas I still implement in my own games. The tone is just somewhat less satirical these days. While reading, kep in mind that this was made as a "my way of doing things is:" diocument, not a demand for all larps to follow this dogma.
So:
Rules of the Post-Bjorneborgan School, as they were written in 2000.
1. A Larp is primarily an experience. It is neither a competition nor a form of theatrical expression
Reality: The larps I make tend to follow this idea. I want them to provide communal experiences to the participants, something that they experience together (as opposed to individual experiences) but from a personal character/player perspective (as opposed to collective experiences). I am also happy that others are making larps that cater to other interests, including the ones mentioned in Rule #1.
2. The crucial component of a good game is a correct selection of players. Everything else is secondary.
Reality: Partially true. These days I believe in an equation of "player selection + good concept + sufficient game preparation = at least 80% of the potential a larp has to succeed". But of those three, good players are still the most important thing. Even a lousy larp can be great with good people, but with bad players everything falls apart - regardless of game concept.
3. Players are selected using three criteria: The ability to immerse oneself into a character's personality, physical attractiveness, and the willingness to alter one's behavior to fit the game's needs. Every player must meet at least two of these criteria, and there must be a sufficiently strong reason why the third criterion was not met
Reality: This the one people most joked about. Which was, of course, quite intentional. But in a more serious tone, this rule is about both acknowledging that a larp and its players have to match and that people are indeed influenced by extradiegetic concerns. To provide new player experiences through character experiences, the player's and character's relationship has to be strong enough. Or, if you want a more activity-based game, weak enough. But immersion isn't the end-goal: a selfish immersionist gains nothing and lessens the impact for all. Balance between immersion, yielding and external influence is required for optimal experiential play.
4. At least one famous player is to be left out. This is done in order to emphasize the Elite status of the game. ("It was so exclusive even X wasn't invited.")
Reality: Of course this is pure crap. However, one needs to acknowledge that the perceived status of a game will always influence both actual play and the post-game impression left by the larp to players and non-participants hearing about it alike.
5. At least one promising newbie must be invited, in order to both avoid the stigma of an "iniders only" game and to train a new generation of Elite players.
Reality: Again, training "Elites" is idiotic. But the experimental larp scene does need to find new players, and it needs to share its findings with the rest of the larp community. Otherwise both will eventually wither and die. And lets not forget that larping with the same few people every single time gets boring pretty fast. So new blood equals better larps for all, whether the newcomers loved or hated your game.
6. A player who has been accepted to the game is a paying customer whose wishes must be taken into accountm if it is at all possible. Paying too much attention to the external elements of the game instead of the characters is equal to directly insulting the players.
Reality: This is something every larp designer should, in my opinion, follow. Respect your player-customers: If you forget to, say, send some of the material to them, it is your responsibility to fix the problem, even if that means buying them necessary props, etc. And do not copy-paste characters. Do not send half the game budget on a piece of decoration just one player out of the 200 participants will see. Players, as both customers and as the most important resource of your larp, deserve better.
7. The characters are to be written in a scale befitting the game. The smaller, the better. Excessive, redundant character information only reduces the gaming experience.
Reality: I stand by this one, too. I really hate the assholes who think (and very loudly preach) that text length equals quality. Not true. "Efficiency" is the real key word in character material. Of course there is much value in including material from the "four D's" (Dressing, Decoration, Decoys, Distractions - i.e. everything from a tiny, nice character-building quirk to a lost brother who just does not appear at all during the game), but pointless family history doesn't build a character. It's just, well, pointless. Going with the bare minimum, with some little extras from the 4D's, is optimal. Sometimes it's just three lines in 10 point script. At other times, it's 40 pages. Siply go with what's necessary.
8. A player is selected for each character in a manner suitable to the game. In this, the needs of the game take precedence over the wishes of the players. Characters are tools of the gaming experience, not a form of personal escapism or an experiment at a player's ideal self-image.
Reality: The game designer has a better comprehension about the larp's contents. So he/she knows best who should play whom. Larps should not cater (except, maybe, incidentally) to escapist or power-gaming whims. To serve one selfish player is to risk everyone else's game experience - the one thing you're organizing the whole damn game for. This part also refers to the fact that a good typecast, as long as it does not become a repeated routine, may benefit a larp immensely.
9. The player creates the depiction of a character. A character may never be a depiction of the player.
Reality: Once you have given the character to a player, that character is both the player's property and his responsibility. He should not alter it, but neither may you direct its actions. Unless you both agreed in advance that it's an NPC role, that is. Furthermore, even a "you are playing yourself, under these particular circumstances" situation does not mean a player is playing herself. A character should always be a separate entity, even when she shares multiple traits (or next to everything) with her player. Problem areas exist, of course: for example, what happens if it would be diegetically logical for your character to insult the weight of a character played by a player with serious body weight issues? Also, this is yet another warning about letting people play their escapist/sexual/powergaming fantasies at the expense of your larp.
10. The use of simulation is to be minimized. All game mechanics reduce from the totality of the gaming experience.
Reality: "Minimized". That means the mechanics are to be kept to a minimum, not kept completely out of the game. Good rules, depictations and mechanics for everything from sex to gunshots and swordfights are a must. Any clever soul understands that mechanics do indeed lessen the totality of the experience - but they are nevertheless necessary. And, that soul should also keep in mind the fact that not using rules may be a choice and not something caused by the organizer(s) not knowing a load of suitable rules. Just because in the Nordic area rules are often kept to a minimum one should not take as a given that potential mechanics have not been explored here. Nevertheless, if you want an incredibly powerful larp experience, you really can't punctute it with dozens of rock-paper-scissor throws.
11. At least one demon must be include in every game.
Reality: Oh eyes, the real "supposed joke". As some know, before the Post-Bjorneborgan school there was a Bjorneborgan school, based on the town where I used to live (and I couldn't become Turku School number two, right). The only difference in the two Manifests was that the original lacked Rule #11. So: what's in a demon? Two things, really. The first, simple, one is that I noticed that every single one of the games I'd been doing uring the last five years had at least one demon. The second, far more important thing was that ythe (suspected, real or not) presence of a demon sets the game's "reality level" to a default of "magical realism" (as in the South American literary style). Thus whenever the players of a Post-Bjorneborgan game encounter something inexplicable, they treat is as something that is really strange in in-game, not as a GM fuck-up. And that's really valuable, especially when one wants to make larps about low-key supernatural horror. (I know I do.)
So. That's all about the Post-Bjorneborgan dogma for now. Keep in mind that it's just my (somewhat outdated) way, not the way I demand(ed) everyone should follow. I'd be damn bored if every larp designer would walk in someone else's footprints, mine or another's.
