The videogames we see today are extremely sophisticated, and they have been since the arrival of Sony’s Playstation in 1995. To produce them requires the hard work of numerous professionals: from artists to programmers. However, there was once a time when most videogames were created by very small teams of perhaps just two or three people. Although very rare, it was even possible for a talented individual to get their work published. This era of game development appeared in the early to late eighties – a time in which computers first began to occupy regular homes. Naturally, even the finest games of this time were very simplistic: Space Invaders, Pac-Man, etc. – due to the industry’s infancy, these were impressive games. The relatively low level of sophistication meant that anyone with a home computer, and a talent for programming, could create games of a similar calibre. In 1986, a British “bedroom coder”, Jez San, was just nineteen when he single-handedly created a successful game called “Star Glider” for the Atari ST. Likewise a young bedroom coder, Dave Perry, existed in the market place through successful releases such as “Pyjamarama”. Perhaps the most famous success story is “Tetris” – and extremely simple game from the bedroom of a Russian coder called Alexey Pajitnov. In a single afternoon of 1989, this programmer developed a game that is still popular today – largely due to being the flagship title of Nintendo’s Gameboy, the most successful games machine in history. Tetris is reputedly the game “every coder wishes he’d knocked up in an afternoon” – and that says it all: as long as they had the fundamental computer skills, making an impressive game was within an individual’s reach.

When very few people are responsible for creating something, “auteur theory” tends to apply. This is the notion that the ideology of a creator is evident in their product. It can apply to all media, from film to radio – if one person is consistently responsible for it, their personal style becomes recognizable. For instance, a film can described as a “Scorsese” film – you say the word and people immediately translate it as “dark gangster movie”: a movie consistent with Martin Scorsese’s style (both the content and the quality). This is the case because Martin Scorsese is consistently responsible for directing such movies, and his techniques are imprinted on the audience’s mind. On a smaller scale, this actually applied to videogames. During the era of bedroom coders, their way of making them was always evident in every single release – whether it was good or bad. Developers fast built a reputation for themselves. The best example of this is “Codemasters”: just two brothers, Richard and David Darling, who started out making games for their school friends. Their games were very successful throughout the late eighties, because they were consistently good. Players knew what to expect from any game bearing the “Codemasters” logo, so in themselves they became a videogame franchise – and made a fortune. Their case states that it was not only possible to “exist” in the market place as an individual, it was also possible to “conquer” it. 

In Codemasters, Jez San, and Dave Perry (to name but a few) we have proof that there was once a time in which individuals could thrive not only in the market place, but also in the press - with their “10 out of 10” reviews. Dave Perry personally lists it as his crowning moment: reading a perfect score for his game, “Pyjamarama”, in a games magazine when he was just a teenager. There’s no doubt that bedroom coders thrived in the eighties, but how did the nineties affect them? The advancements in mainstream technology took the edge out of their home computers, only for it to re-emerge in something much less accessible: the games console. The nineties saw consoles such as the Super Nintendo and Megadrive take videogames to new heights – heights that an individual could no longer expect to achieve. This was primarily because console games were “products” not just “programs”. Only professional companies had the correct tools with which to develop console games – it simply wasn’t even an option for the hobbyist. A similarly devastating blow was the fact that this new technology carried new expectations. Graphics became very important, thus crippling those coders who were only good at programming – they now needed to work with skilled artists if they wanted their game to have any credibility. So, did the absence of bedroom coders damage the industry? Absolutely not. The early nineties saw the arrival of many of the biggest franchises in game history: including the best incarnations yet of Nintendo’s Mario and Sega’s Sonic. Videogame popularity boomed, and there was a desire to cash-in on it. Between both Sega and Nintendo’s machines there was an unprecedented number of quality releases: from Capcom’s “Streetfighter 2” series to Square’s ever-improving role playing games, such as “Final Fantasy”. Interestingly enough, even though individuals were no longer creating the games, it became clear that there were still those who managed to drive them. It became crucial to work within a team, but that didn’t stop gifted individuals rising to the very top of that team and assuming sole responsibility (and credit) for the quality of the games – thus emulating the “glory-hogging” days of a bedroom coder. Designers were the new “bedroom coders”, in the sense that they were most responsible for how the games turned out. Games no longer had to just be there, they also had to be interesting enough to leave the shop shelves, and designers were dedicated to making that happen. Developers such as Dave Jones of DMA were making their fortune on ideas alone: his successful “Lemmings” concept banked him and DMA millions. Most programmers were reduced to “dog work”, simply bringing game concepts to life, and rightfully so. The most notorious figure in videogames, Japan’s Shigeru Miyamoto, grew from this very shift of power. Working under Nintendo, coming from primarily a design background Miyamoto developed successful concepts and characters with alarming consistency. Thanks to this designer, Nintendo soon became synonymous with quality and enjoyed a lengthy reign at the very top of the industry. Beginning with just one game, “Donkey Kong”, Miyamoto brought to life two characters: a plumber called “Mario” and a gorilla called “Donkey Kong” – both of which would later become so marketable that they now star in dozens of games each. Miyamoto is seen as being solely responsible for such franchises. Even the most knowledgeable of industry observers would struggle to tell you who was most responsible for “programming” these games, and it’s just as easy to ignore the other dozen or so developers that assisted. Shigeru Miyamoto proved that it was still possible to be a figurehead in the games industry, despite the unavoidable “group effort”.

While games consoles ruled the industry, the bedroom coders found refuge in the next popular home computer, Commodore’s “Amiga”. They could still make games on these computers, thanks to a language called AMOS, but they were helpless to compete with the latest Nintendo offering. Their “refuge” was little more than a small time underground culture, called “Public Domain”. Here we had thousands of primitive computer games, often relying on twisted humour to provide any entertainment. There was the odd “diamond in the rough”, such as “Gravity Wars”, but even the success of these games only extended to being distributed free on an Amiga magazine cover. There was only one bedroom coder that succeeded in this era: Andy Davidson. Using AMOS, Davidson created a great game called “Worms”. A triumph of simplicity, the potential in his concept shone through just enough to convince developers “Team 17” to take him on board, improve his game, and publish it. It was a phenomenal success, and has enjoyed several sequels since. However, even this triumph only extended to Europe: America condemned it’s lacklustre graphics and refused to publish it where the real money could be made. So, even in absolute success the bedroom coder garnered very little credibility.

What of the present day? In the face of such astounding games nowadays, it’s hard to imagine there being any place for bedroom coders – especially if they couldn’t survive against the Megadrive back in the early nineties. But they do, via a combination of two revolutions: the Internet and simplified programming languages. As I mentioned earlier, one of the things that crippled “Public Domain” was that the games could only ever hope to be distributed with a national magazine. Now though, the Internet allows anybody to distribute anything to anywhere – all they need is a website and an audience. The second revolution, simplified languages, is the best asset though. Over the past couple of years these new languages have grown to be very useful. Companies can now develop a product that makes the game creation process much easier – a blessing, given that genuine game production is notoriously torturous. The three leaders: DIV Games Studio, Blitz Basic, and Dark Basic all offer a platform to make enjoyable PC games, and although they’re “easy”, they are still actual languages - which means they’re versatile enough to realize any game concept. Dark Basic is a big revolution for the bedroom coder, because it’s the only one that offers 3D game creation – and it really is as simple as you could hope for. With this product, a two-man team of 3D artist and programmer (or even an individual that has both skills), can make a game of Playstation quality. That’s the problem though: as good as these creation kits are they will always be one giant leap behind the mainstream games. As we’re being given access to Playstation quality tools, the public are already enjoying Playstation TWO quality games. I don’t believe this is enough to keep a good developer out of the picture though. I personally create games with these simplified languages, and they’re circulated around literally hundred’s of thousands of gamers – from Kenya to Canada. My site: www.mdickie.com has grown hugely popular as the place to download my latest game and find out about my next one. That’s just one man: developing fresh and original concepts, having the skills and the tools to bring them to life, and having the perfect medium (the Internet) on which to distribute them. As successful as I am now though, it doesn’t compare to the calibre of entertainment we are seeing in the mainstream right now – but I would like to think that new tools such as Dark Basic will eventually close the gap. 

It will be interesting to see what the future holds for games. As first stated, games are more sophisticated than ever – and with the launch of super-consoles such as Playstation 2 and Microsoft’s X-Box, even professional companies fear that their skills are not worthy. Surely claiming it’s possible for one man to make a game in this generation is like claiming to be able to make a blockbuster movie on your own? It defies belief. But, in modern cinema the creators of “The Blair Witch Project” made a hugely profitable film from a tiny budget, using novice techniques – all because it offered something refreshingly different. I sense a similar future for games. I think we’ll reach a point where it’s all about “Who can do something refreshing?” – and such a future belongs to the individuals. Only people with no ties to the industry can be truly original, because they have no responsibility to the commercial aspects. Sooner or later gamers will grow tired of games that are commercially safe and they will appreciate an “independent” era. We’ve seen it in film and we’re also seeing it in television and music. Take “Eminem” for instance, by the time he came along people were bored of the same old music that we had for the past fifty years, and they embraced his “realism”, his completely anti-commercial angle. The same thing can happen in games: when it all wears thin, anything that’s different will thrive – and there’s nothing more different than an “individual”.

Mat Dickie (May 2001)