Game Industry Interview with Quentin Rezin

August 20, 2012

by Andrea Emmes

Having had the privilege to meet many amazing people in the game industry–Jonathan Hawkins, David Jaffee, Todd McFarlane, Ken Rolston, Frank O’Connor, etc. has made my experience quiet special. I learn so much from everyone I speak with and this next person, game designer and now good friend, Quentin Rezin, has a wealth of knowledge and a way about how he speaks that I really feel that he should be writing books! When I was graduating college, I reached out to whomever would listen, blindly emailing everyone in the industry, and Quentin answered the call with a breadth of knowledge and advice that I still cling to.

1.    How did you get into the gaming industry?

QUENTIN:  I got into the industry through passion, some practice, and a bit of luck.  Passion is essential to a game developer: to be successful at making games, you’ve got to love them.  The hours can be long (for weeks at a time, if a deadline is coming up), but even more important is that when you care about your work deeply, you’ll be more devoted to quality when pursuing your assignments and more enthusiastic in dealing with your co-workers.  Passion will make the good times more exciting and the slow or frustrating times bearable.  After college, there was a six month period where I was having trouble “breaking in” to the industry, and being jobless for that long can be an emotional black hole–passion allowed me to stay positive while writing countless résumés and spending every night honing my skills.

Practicing skills is easier for some people than for others.  A trait that I really admire about the game industry artists that I’ve worked with is that they’re never satisfied with what they already know they can do.  For them, every day is an opportunity to try out a new technique or add a little more polish to a piece they’re working on.  For an aspiring game designer, knowing what to practice or how to practice can be a bit tougher; it was difficult for me to know whether I would be best served by knowing a lot about a lot of games, creating designs of my own, sharpening my writing or programming skills, or getting a true understanding of the game development process by getting my foot in the door as a Quality Assurance (QA) tester.  In the end, I decided to pursue all of my design-related interests simultaneously rather than focusing on a single path, and it turned out okay… though I wouldn’t recommend it to everyone–if your skills lean strongly enough in one direction, by all means, focus on that area.

Finally, I think that luck is a necessary element of any successful job hunt.  The sharpest résumé in the world won’t be effective if it doesn’t end up in the hands of the right person, or, worse, if no one is hiring for positions matching your skill set.  Preparation, diligence, and perseverance are great tools for finding those lucky opportunities if they’re out there.  I recently spoke with one of the designers who gave me my start, and he told me that there was some debate at the company whether to take a chance on someone like me who didn’t have development experience, but the way I performed on my test and presented myself at the interview showed that I had a spark of design aptitude and the attitude to work hard to meet the company’s needs–it was lucky for me that he was there and recognized my potential.

2.    What do you do, what’s your specialty?

QUENTIN:  I’m a Level Designer, though what that entails has varied across the different projects I’ve worked on.  Primarily, it means that I design and implement elements of a particular set of playable spaces in the game and I am responsible for making sure that they’re fun.  My specialties are gameplay scripting (a very simple, design-focused type of programming) and creating combat encounters for games in the “shooter” genre.

Level design, like the larger field of game design, can be a tougher thing to define than you might think.  On any given day, I might have a few “standard” assignments, like mapping out level geometry or placing some AI enemies or scripting a mechanical object in the level to operate.  I might also have more challenging tasks: fixing issues with the “navmesh” that the enemies use to navigate around the space; using debugging tools to understand why an AI isn’t behaving properly or the game’s framerate drops in a particular situation; observing playtesters so I can take notes on issues that need to be fixed, etc.  Often a task, which is only vaguely defined, falls to the level designer because he is responsible for the level in which the changes need to take place, and there’s no one more specifically qualified to do them.  Sometimes these don’t even seem like “design” at all.  A good level designer has to remain flexible, open to new challenges and unusual assignments, and dedicated to the idea that his level is the most important section of the game (which is almost never the case, but everyone else will usually be so busy with their own workload that the needs of the level might get overlooked if it doesn’t have a sufficiently vocal champion making sure it gets the attention it needs).

One additional challenge a level designer must often face: a significant portion of what makes up a level are assets and blocks of code that the designer doesn’t create himself.  The AI, game systems, and tools used to create the experience usually come from the programming team, the concept/environment/skybox/lighting/character/animation/particle effect/etc. artists generally handle a lot of the visual pieces, music and sound effects are crafted by the audio crew…  We designers rely on the rest of the company to generate the building blocks we need in order to create levels, so a key element of a good designer is the ability to communicate with members these other disciplines on their own terms.  Without them, all we would have are exciting-but-unrealized ideas.

3.    Where have you worked and on what games?
QUENTIN:  My game industry career started at Disney Interactive as a “Think Tank” intern.  I was then hired by inXile Entertainment and worked on Hei$t (cancelled) and Hunted: The Demon’s Forge (released for the Xbox 360, Playstation 3, and PC).  I briefly helped with an XBLA and PSN downloadable title called Choplifter HD, as well, before moving to 343 Industries for a year to contribute to Halo 4.  Most recently, I’ve moved back to Southern California, where I’ve accepted a position at Ready At Dawn Studios (makers of the PSP-exclusive titles Daxter, God of War: Ghost of Sparta, and God of War: Chains of Olympus) on an unannounced title.

Thanks to Disney, I make a cameo appearance in That’s So Raven for the Nintendo DS.

4.    Has working in games shattered your love for gaming or enhanced it?
QUENTIN:  My love of gaming has survived intact, thankfully, though I think it’s gone through some changes over the years.  Many of today’s “blockbuster” games don’t hold the same appeal to me that those sorts of titles once did… but maybe that’s more a reaction to the kinds of games the industry makes nowadays than a result of working in the industry.  Lately I find myself drawn to some of the more secluded or unusual corners of the gaming landscape, and I’m especially intrigued when something that’s a little odd finds critical or commercial success.  I’m going to avoid naming any names here, but I’ve really enjoyed some of the “interactive story” games of recent years, and I’ve enjoyed many unique “indie” titles on Xbox Live Arcade and Playstation Network (though I freely admit that the true breadth of great indie gaming is far more vast than what those services provide).

5.    How has working as a game designer changed your perspective of how you see and play games?
QUENTIN:  One thing that I’ve grown more aware of through working in the industry is how many of the top-tier games excel at certain “languages” that they use to communicate either invisibly or overtly with the player.  An example of overt communication would be a standard tutorial–the game tells the player outright that it’s going to teach the rules by which the game is to be played.  Working as a developer and seeing “underneath the hood” makes it clearer how, for example, high-quality games often lead the player through just as direct a sequence of learning events, but in a way that feels practiced and natural and relies on more indirect cues such as lighting, movement, the shape or composition of a level, sound cues, and cinematic elements to guide the player along.  (A great analysis of how effectively a game can encourage a player and tease out his understanding of the mechanics can be found by searching the Internet for “Mario 3 Design Lessons.”)

6.    What’s your favorite game and why?
QUENTIN:  Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver II.  The list of things I love about this game could go on for some time.  The bold uniqueness of the setting and backstory.  The obsession-driven, monologuing characters.  The overwrought but believably-delivered dialogue.  (The British accents.)  The betrayals and revelations.  Vampires.  Time travel.  Fate.  Uncertain prophecies.  The music.  The music again.  The freedom from block puzzles (which were disgracefully overused in the previous game).  The moment you realize that solving puzzles–which you have to do to progress–backfires on the main character’s goals.  The scale and mood of the environments.  The ending which leaves you feeling totally satisfied, yet agonizingly teased about a sequel.  There’s a lot more I could say about the game, but it’s better if I simply recommend picking up a copy.

You asked a direct question, and I gave a direct answer, but, honestly, it’s been a long time since I could give a straightforward response to the question “what’s your favorite game?” because there are so many interesting answers to more granular questions.

What do I think the best-designed game is?  The Legend of Zelda, A Link to the Past (runner-up: Batman: Arkham Asylum).
What game totally blows my mind by the sheer fact of its existence?  Scribblenauts.
What do I most want to see a sequel to?  Mirror’s Edge.
Most dangerously addictive?  Civilization V.  
Best value/most consumer-friendly: Team Fortress 2.
What do I play when I want to relax?  Auditorium.
What do I think should be “required reading” for gamers?  Beyond Good & Evil.
What game do I think should be “required reading” for developers?  Psychonauts.

7.    What’s your least favorite game and why?
QUENTIN:  My least favorite game in recent memory was Okamiden, a Nintendo DS sequel to the PS2/Wii hit Okami.  Given the “brush stroke” mechanics, youngster-friendly visual style and story themes, and bite-sized gameplay, it seems like it should be a slam-dunk for Nintendo’s handheld.  Instead, it feels as if it should have been the first game of the series (where things were still being figured out) and Okami should have been the bigger, better sequel.  Arriving in the order they did, Okamiden is a huge let-down.

8.    Have you noticed any trends in gaming that are worth noting?
QUENTIN:  The trend that interests me most is the development of games as an art form.  At its most basic level, something is “an art” if it is a means of expression that causes a reaction in (some of) its audience, and that reaction is often subjective to an individual’s tastes or background.  (For me, this has led to examining the distinct reactions I have to different games and to examine how the developers crafted their work to bring about those experiences for players.

A couple of examples:

In a climactic scene of Beyond Good & Evil, the main character has a quiet, melancholy moment where she reflects on the mission she has committed to and whether she really considered the scope of what she was trying to accomplish.  A particular setback hits her emotional core, and the tone of the game changes: her light-hearted, sarcastic banter is nowhere to be found, and although she seemed to have been taking the right actions for the right reasons up until that moment, she suddenly understands the real stakes of her crusade.  There are a lot of audiovisual elements at work that make the cutscene powerful–its execution is very movie-like–but I think this is a case where the interactivity (which is a key difference between games and other forms of art) might make a difference… for me, the character’s unspoken realization that her actions had been motivated by the potential fun, challenge, and danger of her quest rather than a true desire to help the characters of the world mirrored how I felt as a player at that moment.

Early in Limbo, the player encounters a spider.  The player’s interactions with this creature drive home the truth about the world of the game; it is cruelly surprising, unforgiving of mistakes, and doesn’t reward overcoming obstacles (compare with Fez, which seems to really enjoy celebrating the player’s accomplishments).  The player has had some small successes before meeting the spider, and might already have a sneaking suspicion about the way the game didn’t reward those victories with anything but a more devious trap the next time, but I think the interactions with the spider really make the point: there’s no happy ending here.  After being intimidated, chased, and nearly devoured by the terrifying arachnid, the player finally gets the upper hand–only to have to follow that up with taking an action that turns those feelings of relief into pity and disgust.  Even better, the entire sequence of emotions is brought about through gameplay and smart design, with no dialogue at all.

I find it wonderful that such contrast exists within the medium.  Not every game is intended to “express” something (just as not every book, song, movie, or painting necessarily expresses something).  Those that do don’t always have the same meaning for different people–no offense to Journey or Bastion, but although I enjoyed them, I wouldn’t say I was “moved” by either one–but I think it’s interesting when they try.  Equally so, when they try and fail.  Games (as a medium) have evolved more goals than just the simple desire to “cause fun,” and I look forward to seeing how new experiments in storytelling, interactivity, and player involvement will continue to expand games as an expressive form.

9.    I know that you were extremely helpful to me in my getting started in the industry, what would be your most important piece of advice for n00bs who are trying to break in?

It sounds too simple, but my advice for aspiring game developers is to understand what you’re good at, what you need to work on, and pursue both of those with equal ferocity.  It takes hard work and focus to be the best you can at what you do, and it isn’t always fun to realize that you have weaknesses to deal with.  You may even need to learn to ask for help.  You may find that your greatest strengths lie in areas that aren’t exactly what you want to be doing most, or that you can’t get a job doing what you really want to do (people never start their careers as Creative Director, sadly) right away.  Work with what you have.  Work hard.  Make things you’re proud to show off.  Find out (from books, friends, developers, etc.) what you can do to show off yourself and your work even better.  Be passionate.

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As you can see, Quentin has lots to say. I was trying to see how I could edit his answers so that it would be a shorter read, but all of his info seemed like little gems of knowledge that I thought you might like to know. Especially for you soon-to-be game designers out there!

Thanks again, Quentin—Game On!

Andrea