By ”small details elevating the experience," I mean touches that add to the game's personality, its sense of place or adventure, etc.
For me, these are often the difference between a game I like and a game I *love.* Done correctly, they're worth the extra effort!
(NOTE: This thread is a repackaging of one I started earlier that was locked over apparent concerns of scope. I've now expanded the scope to add value by focusing discussion on *all* games that put in extra effort where detail is concerned.)
Among some of the most famous examples:
- The Souls/borne series, with their environmental details that tell a story based on where you find them. It's an essential narrative technique in a series of ”show, don't tell." Exploring the aftermath of Bloodborne's Unseen Village, for example, is like reconstructing a crime scene, with countless bodies frozen in the throes of their final moments. There's a sense of history to each location — a true sense of "if these walls could talk." Reading between the lines is everything in these games, and that's only possible because there's sufficient detail on the periphery.
- The Metal Gear series, with codec calls/cassette tapes that spend countless hours giving dissertations on topics ranging from history and nuclear deterrence to the local wildlife and cuisine of Costa Rica (thanks, Peace Walker!). It's a Kojima indulgence that some may find tiring, but that I personally enjoy since it adds to the game world's density of ideas. This is also the series where, in MGS4, booting up the game treated you to live-action video of sleek PMC ads and talk shows (including a bizarre cooking segment) establishing the media landscape of the Patriots' war economy. Before you even begin the game, MGS4 is already establishing the tone and texture of its near-future dystopia (well, now past future — MGS4 was set in 2014!). I wasn't a fan of the game overall, but there's no denying its attention to detail.
- The Grand Theft Auto series, perhaps the king where detail is concerned. I've always been most impressed by how they created an internet you can surf within the game, as well as a variety of TV shows and commercials to watch on the in-game TV. GTA is very much satire about our media-saturated culture, and there's something deliciously meta about delivering this commentary by way of a fake internet and fake cable network inside a billion-dollar videogame franchise.
Now, the above are all well-known examples (feel free to go in-depth on more specific examples within them, if you wish)... But I'll kick things off with one game I didn't expect to feature its own share of detail: Mario + Rabbids Kingdom Battle.
The game features a strong gameplay foundation that smartly expands upon the XCOM formula, and frames each battle with exploration phases featuring puzzles to solve and secrets to find. It has lovely art direction and a soundtrack by Grant Kirkhope. But what makes the game more than the sum of its parts are all the fine details that add to the game's overall richness.
For example, Peach's Castle, the hub area, changes over time. In many games, this space would be static, but here it feels alive because it evolves alongside your progress. As you complete each world, elements from that world will appear in the hub. Peach's Castle starts out looking like this:
And a few worlds in, it now looks like this:
Note the addition of the windsock, the marbles, the hot air balloon, the popsicles, the toy blocks, the palm trees, the banana bunch, the honey tube, the spider webs, the Goomba stuck to the wall, and the giant toilet balancing a Goomba on a bidet. And this is just one view of the castle — you can circle around it exploring the grounds where you'll find even more elements that weren't there before. This serves as a reminder of where you've gone and how far you've come.
Speaking of how far you've come, another detail I appreciate is how each world appears to have a moment that drives home the scale of everything, and how it's all connected. Similar to Dark Souls, where you can see one area from another (i.e. Ash Lake and Demon Ruins from Tomb of the Giants), there are moments such as this one descending from the clocktower in Spooky Trails, where you can see Spooky Square off in the distance, and Slime Swamp down below:
Or this moment near the penultimate chapter of Sherbet Desert, where you reach the summit of a mountain and survey a panoramic view of the canyons you climbed, the temple ruins you explored, and the (even taller) frozen mountains ahead:
Moments such as these allow you to reflect on the distance you've traveled and the challenges you've overcome. They also allow you to see how these different areas, which feel so intricately designed at the micro level, fit together on the macro level. Design like this gives the game a strong sense of place that was lacking from the more abstract "floating levels" of Super Mario 3D World, and that hasn't really been seen in the (3D) Mario titles since Super Mario Sunshine, where you could see Ricco Harbor from Bianca Hills, or Pinna Park from Serena Beach. It creates a sense of thematic cohesion.
It's not only when you're approaching the end of each world, either. Ancient Gardens, for example, gives you a fixed point toward which you're progressing — a tower of toy blocks, looming in the distance, which you see again and again as you navigate the lush jungles and sandy shoals, sometimes closer and sometimes farther away. This reminds me of the PS3/PS4 game Journey, where a mountain summit with a beacon of light shining in the distance gives you a sense of where you're heading.
There are many other small details I appreciate. For example, the way the music's melody stays the same but the instrumentation changes depending on the situation, including differences during the enemy and player phases of battle, or how the music changes from "hot" to "cold" as you move from the desert area into the snow area, changing seamlessly. It's a technique Grant Kirkhope first used in Banjo-Kazooie, and it works just as well here.
There are also background elements that move in sync to the music, such as the thumping flowers in Ancient Gardens, the jumping beans on the bongo drums in Sherbet Desert, or the harp-playing vines in Spooky Trails:
Or how about the way each character has a unique "duck and cover" animation when a teammate fires across their grid space; or how the Bucklers (shield enemies) stick their hands up in the air when you position yourself behind them; or how Rabbid Peach, ever the diva, casually leans against half-cover and gives her enemies side-eye; or how Rabbid Luigi runs around on fire before doing the stop, drop and roll. The list goes on. The characters also each have their own expressions of joy, suspicion, shock and fear that I find adorable.
I even like how each of the game's 250+ weapons has its own unique name, model and description, despite the fact you only use each of them for a short period of time before they become obsolete and you buy a new one with stronger stats and better attributes. It's like an elaborate visualization of the leveling system — unnecessary, but appreciated in how much personality it adds to a game already bursting at the seams with it. It's a credit to the artists to put so much work into something you'll only see and use fleetingly:
So these are just some of the small details and thoughtful touches that elevate the gameplay experience for me, making the world feel more immersive and complete.
How about you? Is there a particular game or game series where the small details really enhance the overall experience for you? What are some of your favorite examples? (Pictures illustrating your points are especially appreciated!)
For me, these are often the difference between a game I like and a game I *love.* Done correctly, they're worth the extra effort!
(NOTE: This thread is a repackaging of one I started earlier that was locked over apparent concerns of scope. I've now expanded the scope to add value by focusing discussion on *all* games that put in extra effort where detail is concerned.)
Among some of the most famous examples:
- The Souls/borne series, with their environmental details that tell a story based on where you find them. It's an essential narrative technique in a series of ”show, don't tell." Exploring the aftermath of Bloodborne's Unseen Village, for example, is like reconstructing a crime scene, with countless bodies frozen in the throes of their final moments. There's a sense of history to each location — a true sense of "if these walls could talk." Reading between the lines is everything in these games, and that's only possible because there's sufficient detail on the periphery.
- The Metal Gear series, with codec calls/cassette tapes that spend countless hours giving dissertations on topics ranging from history and nuclear deterrence to the local wildlife and cuisine of Costa Rica (thanks, Peace Walker!). It's a Kojima indulgence that some may find tiring, but that I personally enjoy since it adds to the game world's density of ideas. This is also the series where, in MGS4, booting up the game treated you to live-action video of sleek PMC ads and talk shows (including a bizarre cooking segment) establishing the media landscape of the Patriots' war economy. Before you even begin the game, MGS4 is already establishing the tone and texture of its near-future dystopia (well, now past future — MGS4 was set in 2014!). I wasn't a fan of the game overall, but there's no denying its attention to detail.
- The Grand Theft Auto series, perhaps the king where detail is concerned. I've always been most impressed by how they created an internet you can surf within the game, as well as a variety of TV shows and commercials to watch on the in-game TV. GTA is very much satire about our media-saturated culture, and there's something deliciously meta about delivering this commentary by way of a fake internet and fake cable network inside a billion-dollar videogame franchise.
Now, the above are all well-known examples (feel free to go in-depth on more specific examples within them, if you wish)... But I'll kick things off with one game I didn't expect to feature its own share of detail: Mario + Rabbids Kingdom Battle.
The game features a strong gameplay foundation that smartly expands upon the XCOM formula, and frames each battle with exploration phases featuring puzzles to solve and secrets to find. It has lovely art direction and a soundtrack by Grant Kirkhope. But what makes the game more than the sum of its parts are all the fine details that add to the game's overall richness.
For example, Peach's Castle, the hub area, changes over time. In many games, this space would be static, but here it feels alive because it evolves alongside your progress. As you complete each world, elements from that world will appear in the hub. Peach's Castle starts out looking like this:
And a few worlds in, it now looks like this:
Note the addition of the windsock, the marbles, the hot air balloon, the popsicles, the toy blocks, the palm trees, the banana bunch, the honey tube, the spider webs, the Goomba stuck to the wall, and the giant toilet balancing a Goomba on a bidet. And this is just one view of the castle — you can circle around it exploring the grounds where you'll find even more elements that weren't there before. This serves as a reminder of where you've gone and how far you've come.
Speaking of how far you've come, another detail I appreciate is how each world appears to have a moment that drives home the scale of everything, and how it's all connected. Similar to Dark Souls, where you can see one area from another (i.e. Ash Lake and Demon Ruins from Tomb of the Giants), there are moments such as this one descending from the clocktower in Spooky Trails, where you can see Spooky Square off in the distance, and Slime Swamp down below:
Or this moment near the penultimate chapter of Sherbet Desert, where you reach the summit of a mountain and survey a panoramic view of the canyons you climbed, the temple ruins you explored, and the (even taller) frozen mountains ahead:
Moments such as these allow you to reflect on the distance you've traveled and the challenges you've overcome. They also allow you to see how these different areas, which feel so intricately designed at the micro level, fit together on the macro level. Design like this gives the game a strong sense of place that was lacking from the more abstract "floating levels" of Super Mario 3D World, and that hasn't really been seen in the (3D) Mario titles since Super Mario Sunshine, where you could see Ricco Harbor from Bianca Hills, or Pinna Park from Serena Beach. It creates a sense of thematic cohesion.
It's not only when you're approaching the end of each world, either. Ancient Gardens, for example, gives you a fixed point toward which you're progressing — a tower of toy blocks, looming in the distance, which you see again and again as you navigate the lush jungles and sandy shoals, sometimes closer and sometimes farther away. This reminds me of the PS3/PS4 game Journey, where a mountain summit with a beacon of light shining in the distance gives you a sense of where you're heading.
There are many other small details I appreciate. For example, the way the music's melody stays the same but the instrumentation changes depending on the situation, including differences during the enemy and player phases of battle, or how the music changes from "hot" to "cold" as you move from the desert area into the snow area, changing seamlessly. It's a technique Grant Kirkhope first used in Banjo-Kazooie, and it works just as well here.
There are also background elements that move in sync to the music, such as the thumping flowers in Ancient Gardens, the jumping beans on the bongo drums in Sherbet Desert, or the harp-playing vines in Spooky Trails:
Or how about the way each character has a unique "duck and cover" animation when a teammate fires across their grid space; or how the Bucklers (shield enemies) stick their hands up in the air when you position yourself behind them; or how Rabbid Peach, ever the diva, casually leans against half-cover and gives her enemies side-eye; or how Rabbid Luigi runs around on fire before doing the stop, drop and roll. The list goes on. The characters also each have their own expressions of joy, suspicion, shock and fear that I find adorable.
I even like how each of the game's 250+ weapons has its own unique name, model and description, despite the fact you only use each of them for a short period of time before they become obsolete and you buy a new one with stronger stats and better attributes. It's like an elaborate visualization of the leveling system — unnecessary, but appreciated in how much personality it adds to a game already bursting at the seams with it. It's a credit to the artists to put so much work into something you'll only see and use fleetingly:
So these are just some of the small details and thoughtful touches that elevate the gameplay experience for me, making the world feel more immersive and complete.
How about you? Is there a particular game or game series where the small details really enhance the overall experience for you? What are some of your favorite examples? (Pictures illustrating your points are especially appreciated!)
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