To the 108 jammers at La Trobe University, I envy you. In 48 hours you’ve achieved more than than I all year. I couldn’t even assemble Ikea furniture during the same 48 hour duration in which 28 amazing games were created. Damn that missing screw!
After attending the opening lecture on Friday, I returned to the Jam little over an hour before the looming deadline. Oh the humanity!
Shoes had been lost, fancy costumes shed and impromptu beds had been pushed aside. Forget about the internet, games development is serious business. It was crunch time, and I was meeting everyone for the first time. Awkwardly leering over the shoulders of people who clearly wanted to talk about their marvelous creations, but didn’t have the time to do it.
Three computer labs where full of overtired jammers, hyped up on the last ounces of caffeine and jelly beans, looking to put the finishing touches on their games before the 3PM cutoff.
I was only in there for a measly three hours and constantly found myself seeking the sweet relief of the air-conditioned hallway. The jammers in the zone, however, hardly seemed to notice the apocalyptic heat created by rows of computers working harder than they ever had before leading to an inevitable over-excretion of bodily fluids.
After letting me in, organizer Giselle Rosman was unsure whether to let work happen, assign cleaning tasks to those who had finished under the guise of congratulatory high-fives or constantly nag everyone to hurry up and upload as to avoid utter mayhem and certain spontaneous combustion during the final minutes. A frantic combination ensured.
With just 16 minutes to go, one jammer went berserk, running through the hallways with screams emitting from his phone and mouth, Serious Sam style.
Fortunately all went well. Everyone finished and uploaded on time, as an atmospheric tone of relief emulated around the building. It was finally over, and judging was about to commence.
This was great news for me, as finished games meant playtime. I was first ushered to play the final version of Streams, one of my favourites and something I had the chance to go hands-on with a little earlier.
The simple mechanic has you controlling lines as they speed across the screen, moving them up and down with the arrow keys and jumping with the space bar. ”It rewards risk,” I was told whilst being overly cautious. More points are gained when one line comes close to another, but a collision means game over.
After accidentally getting addicted, I achieved the high score before I had to relinquish my seat so the time-strapped judges could pull out their marking pens. Unfortunately, an exploit was later found that dwarfed my 21,290 score, but it was a glorious moment while it lasted.
Earlier in the day I had been asked to draw something, anything, on a post-it-note for an intriguing compilation. I soon bumped into Harry Lee, one of the developers behind the idea, who told me it was an extra game he and his team had been developing from the start of the Jam.
The pictures, from all 100+ jammers and some media where put into the final game. It was a great project and gave the whole affair a real sense of community, something everyone had worked on, even the leering media types who could contribute little else. Although, peculiarly journalists were put into the artist category, and after my disgraceful angry snowman, any chance of rebranding myself as an artist may be shot.
Omelette Boris was the star attraction, winning the judge’s vote and the “Jammers’ Choice” award. The philosophy was birds and eggs and it worked! It was a testing puzzle game that looked as though it would hook me as much as Pullblox.
It looked fantastic and blew me away with the amount of detail in the background that wasn’t directly related to the puzzle. How these guys had enough time to develop the mechanics and make it look this good are beyond me.
There are too many other great games to mention. Burn with its turbulent soundtrack, Whirlstrom with its simple but innovative controls, Harmonize and Tom Killen’s anonymous nemesis, and who could forget Hairy-Cat Holocaust? Nobody, that’s who. Its major sound effect was provided by Giselle’s eight-year-old daughter.
My ears are still bleeding from hours of the high-pitched squealing that nobody in any other stage of life could have produced. Great use of their surroundings, but surely at the expense of sanity if even one of the developers had to listen to that for a day straight.
While I missed the early development, the hour or two following the big “Game Jam Over” sign was expectedly the most rewarding. There was a sense of pride from each team, and the community spirit from over 100 people on limited sleep was truly amazing. Nobody really cared about winning, they all loved seeing what their peers had achieved just as much as showing off their own creations to passersby.
That is what Game Jam is all about. There were 108 people in Melbourne, with more across other locations around Australia and 48 countries in total making games in as many hours. Some professional developers, others students and some that just love games all coming together to create something special against the clock.
It was an amazing experience in the short time I was there, seeing the creativity and enthusiasm in the local industry. I’ll certainly be looking to spend more time there next year. Who knows, maybe I’ll even get my act together and participate. Although, after my rubbish snowman, it probably won’t be as an artist.
You can check out and download all of the Melbourne GGJ 2012 games right here.
By Ben Salter