In Part I
of our multi-part Q&A with videogame director Cory Barlog, he
explained how he met and clicked with Australian writer-director George
Miller (of "Mad Max," "Babe" and "Happy Feet" fame), told us why he
felt he had to leave Sony Computer Entertainment, and ducked our
questions about his first videogame project with Miller. In Part II, he
takes us deeper inside his decision to part ways with his previous
employer and why he feels that the dominant employer-employee model
under which most videogame directors labor is in dire need of change.
Read on.
I don't want to put words in your mouth, but it
sounded like what you were saying is that you were having a hard time
seeing yourself scaling the same mountain that you had scaled twice
before--with God of War and God of War II--under the same conditions.
Is that a fair description?
Yeah, yeah, The concept of
actually doing the game was definitely not anything that I would feel
all that leery about. I wasn't nervous about doing it all, but it was
about whether to do it under the sort of same conditions. You know,
it's not something that was ever really about money. I know there's
been some speculation about that, but it's not necessarily about money.
The reality that we live in is that when you look at the idea that you
are a pretty large influence on something that has turned out to be a
several hundred million dollar franchise for a company, but at the same
time you're still not feeling like anything more than just a cog in the
machine. And that you're still just, "All right, whatever, they're
telling you to do; there's nothing different that can be done; go do
that, go do that." You're really feeling like you're not [financially]
invested fully in it whereas creatively and mentally and physically
you're totally invested in it. Definitely for me, it was not something
I wanted to see happen to the rest of my career especially me, getting
with all these directors on the film side and seeing the way that they
sort of run their careers.
Like I said before I know that
the industry can't change overnight; videogame directors are never
going to be of that same stature of film directors. That's not even the
point. The point is just from a creative standpoint, you've got to be
in charge of your own direction and really feel comfortable and happy
with each of the things you're doing. And I think that also comes from
diversity.
The reason I'm asking this is that David Jaffe said exactly the same thing when I was talking to him about leaving Sony and putting together Eat Sleep Play.
Right.
The
larger point is obviously the situation that you've described and your
search for freedom, but is there something specific to directing a God
of War game that takes people and turns them into these ambassadors for
change? Is it like the drummer in "Spinal Tap" or something? What is it
about the process of directing a God of War game that makes people
finish it and say, "I've got to leave. I've got to control my destiny.
I've got to start my own thing. I've got to do my own thing."
[Laughs.]
It is funny. [Pause.] Man that's an interesting point, because....I
think it could have something to do with the size of God of War. I
mean, I was there on the first one and I think I had a huge influence
on what it was; I was there on the second one; working on the PSP game
and then working on III; kind of riding that--it did make me realize
that prior to God of War, I'd worked on crap. I've worked with really
good people; having worked with a lot of those combat guys that were
the ones who pioneered a lot of the stuff on God of War--I guess
"pioneer" is probably the wrong word, but really kind of pushed the
process.
So I think when you finally get to that point, where
you've made something that a lot of people are enjoying and paying
attention to, you maybe expect that that same level of attention from
the company you're working with as well. It's not necessarily that it's
like, "Pay attention to me," and "Oh I'm so awesome," and "Look at me,"
but it does move a little bit more towards, "We've done something very,
very good. We are confident in what we've done and we know we can do
this again--but we'd like to do these other things," and you're not
necessarily getting that same response.
Jaffe put it best: when
you work for a large company like Sony or any of these large companies
you are a small cog in the larger machine. You are not all that
important. And it doesn't mean to say that they don't value people, I
think it just means to say that you're never going to achieve what you
want to achieve and have the amount of control if you're still just
making something for somebody else; under the relationship that is
comfortable for them which is, "We'll just hire you as a salaried
employee."
Just compare a director in the mid '80's--don't
even use now--just compare a director in the mid '80's to a director in
the '50's. You know they made a salary per week versus, "Hey the last
thing you did was amazing." A perfect example, in the film industry,
you make one movie, one movie that's successful--it doesn't matter if you've done anything prior to that--you make one
movie that's successful and everybody loves it, at that point you are
bankable, marketable and you have your choice. You have an idea, people
want to move with you on that, you know you have the opportunity to
work with many more people of a higher stature and increase your
audience.
With the game industry, you make ten
games and people are still like, [skeptical voice] "Well, yeah, I don't
know. Maybe, maybe it's good." But once you break away from that
relationship that you originally have, then you realize that everybody
else has kind of realized that, "Wait, I really want to do this. Let's
try this. Let's do that. Let's do that." I hate the word "complacency,"
but it almost is like that sense of, "Well we own this guy, what do we
care? Let's just keep pumping them out." I definitely don't want to
become associated solely with just God of War.
Right.
And
I could see--this franchise is very successful for Sony and I think
it's awesome. I was big part of making that a success for them and I
think it's great that they should continue doing it, but I don't want
to make God of War IV and God of War V and God of War: The Expansion
Pack and God of War: The Role-Playing Kart Racing Game. I definitely
could see that there is a potential for that.
At one point I was
working on three games while finishing up II, and it was really
exhausting. It was all God of War and it was all good and everything,
but at the same time I can see that same road being traveled down the
longer you stay in the same situation. And that was the onus behind
changing the situation a little bit; still continuing to do this,
continue to finish God of War III, but under a slightly different
agreement.
Well, Stephen Totilo at MTV News is going to be pretty upset that you didn't stick around long enough to do God of Paper Mario.
That's right.
I
guess he'll have to live with it. With that last burst of what you
said, you're now sounding like what we're sort of imagining Bungie was
probably sounding like. Now they've publicly denied that they left
because they were sort of being forced to work on just Halo games, but
I certainly heard from multiple well-placed sources that that was in
fact one of the tensions that they had with Microsoft. And they had
created a multi-billion--I don't know if it's billions now, but
certainly multi-million dollar franchise for Microsoft.
I
look at the industry and its origins as one or two or three programmers
in a garage sort of doing it all. Then it sort of becomes this cottage
industry, where you have some guys who have a background in sales or
something else, and they start sort of running these small companies.
Then at some point, like maybe during the 80's, you have this influx of
guys who come from a product marketing and a brand marketing
background; like from a Johnson & Johnson or Procter & Gamble.
And if you look at /those/ kinds of companies, the person who invents a
new brand of baby oil or toothpaste, you don't even know their name.
They're not seen as that important because Crest is what's going to be
on the front, and the person who invented that third flavor of Crest or
decided, "Well, we'll put the anti-tartar fighting stuff in there," we
don't even know what their names are.
I
don't know if you feel the same way, but it seems like that product
marketing mentality got brought to the game industry and took over.
Because there was a time when the names of creators used to be on the
front of the box--
America McGee's Scrapland. Exactly. [Laughs.]
Yeah.
It seems like now that's gone away. And if you talk to a variety of
people in the industry like it's almost religion, it's pervasive, the
thinking that, "You know what? You can take away that key guy--even the
creator--and we can keep it rocking and rolling. It doesn't matter."
Exactly.
That's exactly the way it is. It's sad really when you think about it.
Because you look over at like, Crest or the baby oil; all right,
they're selling a product and it is much more of a scientific endeavor,
for lack of a better term. I'm sure there's some creative thought that
goes into that. But when we're talking about things like writing and
video games and film it really is a creative-driven industry. And being
a creative person; a person who helps drive that kind of mentality,
that kind of product-driven mentality, it does make you sad.
I
don't necessarily know if I would really want Cory Barlog's Scrapland
or anything like that, but by the same token, there are a lot of people
I think are the key integral part of making something a success. But
this is the mentality of these giant conglomerates, and there's less
and less that's the amazing thing. More and more people are getting
bought up, so that we will eventually have four companies, you know?
We'll have EA, Nintendo, Sony and Microsoft and they'll own everybody.
It'll just be like, "You can have a choice: you can work for one of
these companies and you will just be a part of making these individual
products successful, but they still are a Brand X product." But I see
so many really, really, really talented people that a huge and very
extensive pedigree in the industry that they're kind of moving towards
dramatic change as well.
Will Wright's breaking out of the game
industry into other industries, as far as other people's awareness of
him. It's not just people in the game industry who know him, like
Cliffyb [Gears of War creator Cliff Bleszinski], although I guess he's
probably getting known a little bit more outside of the industry as
well. But we have a long road in the game industry before we're going
to be taken seriously by everybody. I think that some people's reaction
to the writer's strike--and I think mostly people are very supportive
of this and understanding of it, but there probably are people out
there that are like, "Oh come on get back to work." And that's the way
everybody views the game industry right now. It's just like, "Whatever
man, you make videogames." I don't think they sort of see the
individual achievement because it isn't like this in the industry.
There isn't television shows about the directors, television shows
about the producers, television shows about the biographies of actors
and biographies of people who make these games.
We're so
inundated with everybody on the film side and their process that
there's kind of an inherent respect, whereas with the game industry I
think there's still a belief from most people that we use Super
Nintendo controllers and tighten up the graphics on level three like
that Westwood College commercial. That or "Grandma's Boy." That's what
people probably think the game industry is: a bunch of flaky people
hanging out and playing ping pong and video games in a break room for
most of the day.
I think even some of
the language that gets used is part of the problem.The word "product"
is used an awful lot. I mean, you know, Penny Arcade made fun of Bobby
Kotick repeatedly using language like "exploited"
in talking about Blizzard and the Vivendi merger. Look they're business
guys--I'm not saying that they're committing a crime by using this
language. But it's kind of like runes, right. Runes are derived from
the concept that words have power and I feel the very language of the
video game--well, I was about to use the word "industry."
Yeah.
The very language we use helps define this reality that you've been talking about and that you've been chafing against.
Yeah.
Games are very expensive. In the next generation, they are even more
expensive. I think more expensive than anybody ever anticipated.
Budgets are going so high that nobody ever thought that we'd be getting
to this sort of height of these budgets. So the business side is
important, to actually say, "All right, something's going to cost 30 or
40 or 50 million dollars"--some people are even saying that Metal Gear
Solid 4 is going to cost 70 million dollars--and there has to be a
business side to it. But when you consider that the film industry can
still have kind of an art side, I guess. A side of people sort of
saying, "This is a product, of course, but it's also a piece of art.
It's just something that somebody felt very passionate about. This is a
piece of the director, of the writer, of the true backers that all came
together and made this thing that moves me." Moving me on a level of,
"This is such an exciting two hours," or "This was something that made
me stop and think." Film still has that inherent respect.
We
still have people in the industry continually talking about how all we
do is make product and it's not art. It's like this whole concept of
people saying, "Oh, because we intentionally make this to sell to other
people it can't be art. The goal initially is that we are creating a
product that is going to be sold to somebody so it can't be art."
That's ridiculous. It's the most ridiculous argument I've ever heard,
when you consider that Andy Warhol's considered a very talented pop
artist and the entire intention behind all of his work was, "This is
product. I'm going to sell this to you. I'm going to create factories
of people. I'm not going to create half my stuff." But he was still
revered within the art culture.
The statements people make with
games have gone far beyond a couple of lines and a little ball. I think
we've graduated from Pong. We've gone through so many changes from text
adventures to playing point-and-click adventure games to the full-on
epic games that we have today. There are these games that reach a
little bit further. I think Ken Levine's game is awesome. BioShock is a great sort of testament
to the idea that perhaps it doesn't have to be some sort of diluted
story about a convict who is also a soldier who breaks out of jail and
saves the world from an alien invasion. It doesn't always have to
f--king be that. I think that's really important and I hope that as an
industry as a whole we can continue to strive for that.
The more
you look at it; the more you start to realize, "Okay, we are more
comfortable with the concept of 15 million dollar and 20 million dollar
budgets," once they double imagine how scared everybody's going to be,
like, "Wow, man, I really don't want to take a risk." And then you
start to see the idea that there's going to be more and more sequels.
Right.
Sequels
aren't bad as long as there's attention paid to them--the same
attention that's paid to the first one, where you put the same amount
of effort and love into each version. You're still going to have people
going, "Oh, I wish they would've just totally made something
different," but by the same token if it's a fun experience; if it takes
them on a ride that may be somewhat familiar, but can at the same time
still be as grand or maintain the same sort of spirit of the first one,
it's a good thing.
Just a couple more questions, this is winding down.
Cool.
I
know you can't really get into specifics, but what are you doing right
now? What constellation of things, generally speaking, are you working
on now?
Writing, finishing up some work on some script stuff.
Game script stuff or movie script stuff?
Kind
of a combination of both. There's movie script stuff and then there's
some game script stuff. A lot of it is just meeting with people,
because it really is kind of a fresh thing, my departure. So a lot of
it now is just connecting with people who I've either met through
various conferences or people who've seen my work and they're just
wanting to get together and hang out and see where that goes. And then
there's some preparation of design docs type stuff; throwing around
concepts, meeting with Eric and kind of brainstorming some stuff and
refining things.
And what is it that you're refining?
I wish I could get specific actually, but I can't. [Laughs.]
I
wish you could too. What does it feel like, this new phase of your
career? When you made the decision, when you had your last day, what
did it feel like? How does it feel different from where you were before?
Wow.
For me, cumulatively it was about eight months until that final day and
/literally/ seven months and 24 days was spent saying, "We're going to
work this out." There was definitely a very strong belief that it was
always going to be, "Whatever, we'll figure it out," and maybe a little
bit too much complacency on my end of, "Yeah, it's going to be fine."
You had a little Stockholm syndrome?
Yeah.
I just totally believed that there would be no way that it would end in
the nuclear option. It didn't seem sensible to me at all that that's
how it would go down. So there was only about six days for me to kind
of adjust initially to like, "Wow, I really have to make this
decision." But believe me, it wasn't at all scary. It didn't really
freak me out. At first I was like, "Man, I won't have a job at this
point, how do I feel about that" But I felt great.
Because I
think if I had tried to something like this while working on, you know,
Backyard Wrestling or Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots or something like that,
I think I'd be a hell of a lot more freaked out. I worked on the
original X-Men game and Jeremy Dunham from IGN had said that the
animation was "stiff and unrealistic,"
much like the original Mortal Kombat. And I've carried that quote with
me my entire career, because of that one sort of defining moment where
I said to myself, "All right, I thought I had achieved something," but
then I looked in the mirror a bit and realized, "No, I haven't gotten
anywhere." And that kind of drove me a lot. But after leaving Sony I
feel fantastic.
The people that I've met over the last like
month-and-a-half and the opportunities that have arisen from all of
that have made me realize that I would have been very, very, very
unhappy not seizing some of these opportunities; not being able to take
advantage of any of these things simply because I was locked in. If I
really step back for a minute, I probably should've been at least
somewhat afraid, like, "Oh my god, [Sony] is security," because that's
what a lot of those jobs offer you--and kind of rely on--is the idea
that you have security. The game has a guaranteed budget and you know
it's going to get made and you're going to have a job and you're going
to have a paycheck coming in. All these things are really important,
but at the same time, you have to have a bold move in order to sort of
reap a great reward. And I say that in the the sense of reap a great
reward creatively not necessarily reap a giant paycheck.
Well, thanks very much for taking the time to speak with me.
Yeah, man. This was awesome.
Absolutely. Best of luck with your bold move and hopefully the great reward.
Yeah, thank you.
Next:
Writer-director George Miller gives us his side of the story--and
spills the beans on the first game from the Miller-Barlog
collaboration. For Part I of our Q&A with Barlog, click here.