PAX East 2018: Leaving the expo hall still a person

PAX East is a huge convention, pulling in tens of thousands of video games enthusiasts each day it spans—last year, the turnstile count put attendance at over 80,000 people. Sharing space with not just other fans of a game you love, but also the creators of that game is a unique scenario that breeds a special kind of nerding out. Multiplied by thousands of people, no kidding it might (probably will) get overwhelming.

I’m a meticulous person. I like planning. In it’s own way, organising my time and space is like a game (very much like Tetris, that’s always my go-to reference), but that’s a conversation for another time.

So here’s the game plan:

enter the centre via the front doors
NO BACKPACK (to get though the metal detectors faster)
circle the expo hall clockwise, stick to perimeter
acquire cards/pamphlets of interesting games/developers
systematically zigzag through centre aisles
first panel
second loop; see developers of interest, demo games
regroup at front of expo hall
leave only slightly drained and still definitely mostly a person.

So naturally, all that went out the window the second I stepped out onto the landing at the top of the escalators and saw this:

The actual path I carved through the expo hall on Friday looked a lot like, well, I’m not sure. There was a lot of backtracking, and that was probably because in the sensory barrage of Galaga-reminiscent piew piews and miscellaneous lines of dialogue from demos, neighbouring booths competing for attention by playing their respective soundtracks as loudly as possible, the general din of the crowd echoing off the hall’s high ceiling, the constant pressure of someone else’s skin touching mine as they brushed by and the accompanying wave of body spray or cologne or odour or sweat or all of the above, the bright monitors relaying a player’s VR experience, and colourfully lit stands, I was looking for something familiar and comforting. And since none of it was familiar, it was all new, all the time, everywhere, I strove to make at least parts of it familiar until I could latch onto the first friendly face I saw.

That the face I first considered friendly and thus first approached was the eponymous character of Bendy and the Ink Machine might give you a sense of how overwhelming absolutely everything was. What’s not friendly about an old-timey cartoon character—the dancing demon, the little devil darlin’—who’s nothing but smiles? Well, everything, but if you’ve played even just chapter one of BATIM, ‘friendly’ probably isn’t your number one adjective for the character anymore. But it was a face I knew, and that was more than sufficient.

The booth offered a sneak peek of Chapter Four, to be released later this month, and a revamped Chapter One. When I picked up a controller to escape the hell of the world IRL, I wasn’t aware that Chapter One had been given a facelift. I was still doing the same things, but the environment was different. I could open more doors, explore more rooms, and when I finally wandered into the room housing the titular machine, I felt a new sense of awe. Talking with creative director Mark, (I think his name was), afterwards, I got a sense that was more the impact they were going for since the machine plays such a large role in the game, rather than my initial “Oh, that’s kind of cute, what does it do?” idly curious reaction.

As previously mentioned, being able to talk with someone who worked on a game you love fosters a special kind of nerding out. Especially speaking with smaller and independent studios and one-man teams, I got a real sense of how much time and effort went into making these games. Of course, a lot goes into every game, especially including AAA titles, but there’s just something to knowing that this person learned programming or digital art specifically to make something they dreamed of something tangible to be shared with others. Conversations I had spanned inspiration, engines, transitioning from hobbyist to professional, desired reactions to games, choosing titles within the team (what do you do when a programmer you hire on is more adept than your Lead Programmer?), release dates, and personal development. A couple of designers, upon learning that I’m also trying to teach myself how to Do The Thing and build my own game, were unexpectedly supportive and extended offers to critique my work, review my portfolio, even collaborate later down the line (they might’ve been kidding but holy cow).

Making personal connections like that really grounded my experience this year at PAX. I wasn’t just floating, letting the crowd sweep me up and down the aisles, I had direction and a purpose every time I stopped at a booth. I looked up some of the games beforehand. I had questions to unpack. Why did this one catch my eye in particular? What went into making it? What makes it different? Maybe I took a more analytical, almost research-directed approach than most people would, but this mindset helped me orient myself in 516,000 square feet of space with 20,000+ other people. I felt like I had meaningful connections with the designers, programmers, marketers, and fellow gamers I spoke with. Between those little tête-à-têtes and game demos, I was able to dip out of the crowd at large enough to keep my head on straight. The first time I went, two years ago, was completely overwhelming, maybe because I didn’t have these grounding moments. I’d also spent two hours waiting in line to demo Pyre, and honestly that was the majority of my time at PAX. Definitely worth it, but there are so many other things you can get accomplished in two hours apart from waiting in line.

Having had that first experience at PAX, I’d planned to only go on Friday and then play it by ear from there. I ended up also going on Sunday and met up with some friends in the expo hall—taking Saturday as a recovery day was absolutely necessary. Saturday also tends to be the most hectic day of the weekend, so the way it all worked out was definitely for the best.

The reason I didn’t spend a lot of time in the centre of the hall stems from the same school of thought that makes me avoid PAX on Saturdays. It’s too many people, disorienting, and the lines are days long. Okay, maybe not days, but I had no desire to spend more than 45 minutes at maximum waiting in line—thought I did end up spending an hour in line to play Omensight which, full disclosure, was definitely worth it. Venturing in did lead me to some gems—Semblance, Flipping Death, and Fe—which I am excited to play, but limiting my time in the middle certainly helped manage my whelmedness. This did, of course, leave a lot of the expo hall unexplored Friday, but that was remedied on Sunday when there were fewer people.

 I wasn’t able to hit up every booth I wanted to, but every one that I did manage to spend time at was worth it in some way or another. The full debriefing on the games will be coming your way midway next week!