Quote: Postcard from GDC Europe 2005:
Seeing What Sticks: Developing a Katamari Sequel



Keita Takahashi and the Prince.

Before the keynote, the defining memory of Keita Takahashi from the conference comes earlier at the Robin Hunicke’s Game Design Mash-up. While the other panelists were greeted well enough, the softly-spoken, slightly-scruffy man received open adulation from the audience which only intensified as he described his cat-peripheral-based game for Grandma idea.

It’s true: We Love Katamari.

Creator of one game, he’s become something of an icon and his popularity is in proportion to the dissatisfaction of many developers with the mainstream games industry. By creating something so obviously novel, he’s attracted to him anyone who feels similar. In other words, Katamari Damacy’s critical standing has actually become a katamari in itself, snowballing onwards, bigger, ever bigger as it picks up all the waifs and strays of the game design world.

Which leads us to this fascinating, openly personal, keynote, where Keita describes the stress and his thoughts about conceiving a sequel to a game which, as he fully admits, was never conceived to have one.

Speaking through a be-suited translator, Keita is alternates between being gleefully provocative and self-effacing. The sense of humor all too apparent in Katamari is equally noticeable here, with even the translator stopping to laugh before telling the audience what Keita actually says. Like, for example, thinking he was offered the keynote by mistake.

He starts by describing the pre-history to Katamari. Working at Namco, looking around at what they had in development and there wasn’t anything he could bear to work on. The vast majority of games were too similar. They all seemed to be aimed at a similar demographic, and mystifying to new users. He couldn’t see what he’d get from working on any of the games.

He found his attention wandering to the Namco motto, lifted from Confucius: “Knowledge is not equal to Devotion. Devotion is not equal to joy.” That is, to know what something is isn’t the same as actually liking it, and to like it isn’t actually to enjoy it. He decided to not ignore this core message Namco and Confucius were telling him, and try and find something he believed in. Or, as he puts it: If you don’t enjoy something, you may as well be dead.

To get a flavor of the keynote, it’s probably important to note that halfway through his tale he stopped, stood up and wandered to the center of the stage where he seated a plush-doll of the Prince lead-character from Katamari before wandering back.

Fast-forward three years from the game’s conception to launch, his GDC presentation in March and now, finally, a release in Europe.

But why a sequel? The concept came as a direct reaction to sequels and “boring games”. When the idea was suggested to him by Namco, he wasn’t originally into making it.

He pauses then stresses this: “I really, really wasn’t”.

He’s aware that a sequel is actually a contradiction to his original statements. After deliberation, he eventually relented. He had lots of reasons, but he doesn’t share them as “They’ll sound like excuses”.

He also notes that “I’m not sure that someone who didn’t have the courage of their convictions should be standing here giving a keynote… but I wanted to see what London was like”.

Having decided to drink from this particularly bitter cup, he looked at what he wanted to change. The original game was constricted, based tightly on the basic idea of the game. Starting with a small katamari, you roll until you get a universe-sized ball. For the sequel, they were far less controlled, lobbing in anything which would amuse them. It’s a point which Keita returns to repeatedly: that if you’re not amused when making the game, he doesn’t believe the game will be any fun at all. Or, as he puts it memorably later in the presentation, making a game is a game too.

Since the sequel would be more diffuse, he would aim to create less of the stressful rush of the first game and a more like zen-like relaxing approach. Later in the presentation, when he demonstrates a few levels from We Love Katamari. The snowman level is a tranquil world full of sledgers, ice-skaters and a world of snow. Your task is to make the head for an enormous snowman in the center of the land. You can make your capstone as small or large as you wish before rolling it into place. This is so simple that Keita considers it may not even be a “game” at all. In the two-player mode, it’s perhaps even more pronounced, with one player rolling the head and the other the body. The level ends whenever the two press together and create the finished icy edifice. Maybe not a traditional game, yes. But in terms of atmosphere or zen-relaxation, you suspect that Keita has hit his goal.

Keita also examines the importance of packaging to him, describing how when as a child he played videogames he would pore over manuals which extended the pleasure of experience by re-living it in his mind. The lavishly illustrated Japanese manual of We Love Katamari and the playful cover of the outside of Namco building, with the design team holding up signs and a Giraffe on the roof is a world away from Inevitable Sequel VII. While Keita admits some would critique this and the game’s title as self-indulgence, he views it as an attack on the stupefying seriousness. And it’s fun. Fun for him, his team and hopefully everyone else.



We Love Katamari introduced a two-player co-op mode.

He dwells on areas and elements they hoped to get into the sequel, but proved impossible for either time or technical reasons. On the technical side, a worms-eye view of the katamari to let you understand how big you’ve managed to make the enormous bolus proved unachievable. More esoteric urges to try and make the decreasing of katamari size not be a negative, fail-state aspect in the game were equally unachievable.

His esoteric – in fact, you may suspect deliberately esoteric – approach to influences are almost telling. The never-released game "Densen", which he only has a screenshot of, which involved sliding with a coat-hanger down electric wires was one. Because, like Katamari, it turns a normal world into something strange – in his case, skyscrapers and people into material for an enormous ball. Even more obscure, a fairground water-target game where you aimed a jet at vegetable-themed targets, such as a smiling aubergine. He liked its directness and the way that water bubbles went into the stream as the time ran out and the power slackened off… especially as he suspected that was an engineering fault rather than an actual deliberate design.

Concluding, he admits he’s expressed a confused message of a man who’s “walking forwards while facing backwards”. He believes that silliness is essential for life, but still finds himself returning to two questions. Firstly, is it okay to go on making superfluous games forever. And secondly, because games are essentially meaningless, shouldn’t they embrace this transitory nature in a punk-rock style.

He knows games are interesting… but life is interesting. From feeling the rush of air in your face while riding a bike, to the joy of skipping or the heart-beating in your chest when you stop. These may not be particularly punk rock, but they all stimulate, and all make life worth living.

“You don’t need games to have fun,” he considers, “possibly you don’t need games at all”. He gets frustrated of his inability to communicate these simple aspects of life in a game, and stresses that all developers should remember to not think what the Next Gen can do… but what you can do with the Next Gen. The thoughts and feelings of a game are all that matters.

He concludes doubting that he’ll ever be able to put these frustrating questions aside, and promising that now he hopes to put Katamari aside and return to his first love: something new: “Suspend your expectation and wait and see what happens”.

Something in the Q&A section stands out, and seems to capture something of the psychedelic lament which ran through the keynote. Someone asks why he doesn’t play many games anymore. He answers simply: “Because there are no fun ones.”

Quote:Video Game 'Katamari Damacy' Has Fans Knitting Hats And Baking Cakes
09.21.2005

Unusual game has ignited unusual following; its sequel hits stores this week.
Katamari visits Da Vinci's "The Last Supper"
Photo: Kirsten Bole
Some say video games can drive people to violence. Others say games can be used to teach. But so far only one game is inspiring fans to knit hats, touch up Leonardo Da Vinci paintings and bake cakes: "Katamari Damacy."

A critical sensation



overshadowed and greatly outsold by the likes of "Halo 2" and "Grand Theft Auto" last year, it's a game that game makers love to discuss, one that has ignited unusual fan celebration across the Internet. And its sequel, "We Love Katamari," hits stores this week.

It's also the product of an unconventional creator who initially wanted nothing to do with making a follow-up.

With graphics as colorful as a fistful of crayons, last September's original game put players in control of a microscopic green prince tasked with rolling a sticky sphere called a Katamari across tabletops, beaches and other simplified real-world locales. Thumbtacks and seashells clung to the rolling sphere, eventually making the Katamari big enough to snag cats, dogs, criminals, superheroes, stadiums and, ultimately, islands, rainbows and clouds.

"It's a game that makes you happy while you're playing it," said fan Kirsten Bole, a musician and Web designer in Vancouver, British Columbia. "There's something sort of Zen-like and soothing about rolling around and picking up stuff."

The game embedded itself in the player's subconscious. "There's a tendency when you play the game for a long time to look around and imagine rolling things around you when you're on the street," Bole said.

"Katamari Damacy," which translates roughly to "clump of souls," was the brainchild of Keita Takahashi, 30, a Japanese sculptor who took a job a few years back at Namco, the company famous for iconic titles such as "Pac-Man" and "Tekken." Through a translator, Takahashi told MTV News that he was initially unexcited about his prospects at Namco. "Coming up with 'Katamari Damacy' was a way of avoiding projects I didn't want to work on," he said.

Takahashi played games as a child but drifted from them. He found much to dislike with current games, which took themselves oh so seriously. So Takahashi crafted "Katamari" to make people laugh. He applied an absurd story of the diminutive prince and the grumpy King of All Cosmos, who, as Takahashi puts it, "gets drunk one evening and destroys all the stars in the universe." Rolling the Katamari would create replacements for the stars.

The game didn't just look and play strangely. It sounded odd as well. Yu Miyake, who oversaw the game's music, drew inspiration from his colleague's zest for the unusual. One song of the game's quirky soundtrack simply featured Miyake humming.

None of this made the game a likely hit in America. In fact, "Katamari Damacy" has only sold about 269,000 copies in the U.S. since its launch last September, according to the NPD Group, which tracks industry sales. That's a far cry from the millions racked up by Madden, Mario and Master Chief. But it fared better here than it did in Japan and was a sensation with American critics.

It also developed a cult following like few games released this decade, as the eclectic results of a Katamari Google search will attest.

Fan sites began tracking Katamari glass sculptures and Katamari costume parties, paper dolls and Play-Doh sets. At the suggestion of her husband, Bole drew the Prince rolling up the dinnerware of Leonardo Da Vinci's last supper and posted it on her blog.

In January fan Xiola Azuthra started knitting and selling hats styled after the Katamari (another fan bought one and presented it to Takahashi as a gift). The first hat fetched about $130 on eBay. But with each one taking about six hours to make, Azuthra still has 65 people on her waiting list (check it out at http://www.mad-teaparty.net).

Kris Garland, an artist in Seattle, decided to bake a Katamari cake. "I was thinking in terms of structure rather than taste," she said, noting that the spherical shape of a Katamari posed a baking challenge. Garland decided to bake two hemispheres, merge them, ice the spongy sphere and apply cupcake tops for the Katamari's signature bumps. She wound up with a five-pound cake and posted the photos online (at Flickr.com). "We were eating cake for like two weeks," she said. "Everyone I knew was like, 'Oh no, no more cake.' "

The game didn't just become a cult favorite. Its creator, Takahashi, became an industry darling, enrapturing audiences of game developers with talks about how he defied industry trends.

Suddenly celebrated for his originality, Takahashi would soon have to tackle the possibly contradictory idea of doing a sequel. He told his bosses at Namco several times that he wouldn't do one. "But it came to a point where the company was willing to release a sequel without me," he said. He discovered that the company's planned sequel seemed more like a re-release, primarily swapping Christmas graphics into the original game. "That went against everything I wanted to do with Katamari," he said. So he agreed to get involved.

This week's sequel goes beyond rolling up Christmas trees. The prince takes rolling assignment from in-game fans; he cleans up messy bedrooms, rolls up fish underwater and rolls Katamaris that are set on fire. The game also adds multiplayer: Two players can team up, each using a controller to jointly roll a single Katamari.

Takehashi hopes, of course, that his sequel can reach beyond cult-favorite status. "I realize that a lot of these sports games that big companies like EA make are very enjoyable," he said. But he hopes people will play games, like his, that allow players to do things they couldn't do in the real world. "If you want to play a sports game, why not go outside and play sports?"

Quote:The latest issue of Hardcore Gamer has a big Katamari spread, reports Kotakuite Nick C. In an interview with our favorite grumpy grump Keita Takahashi, the Namco “It Boy” reveals further about why his PS2 collects dust.

This dude cracks me up, and I do admire his honestly. The fact that Namco keeps letting this loose cannon run his mouth with the press is hilarious. I half-expect him to scream “I hate Namco” at some journo and then run off to join the circus. Namco, whatever you do, don’t gag the guy until after I bag an interview!

Here’s an excerpt from Hardcore Gamer:

HGM: Katamari Damacy has a lot of female fans in the US. When you designed the game were you trying to target female players?

KT: No, I didn’t try to appeal to any group in particular. I’m not a big gamer, so I don’t feel as though I am locked into the same design patterns as most game designers.

HGM: Why don’t you play many games?

KT: Most games are really boring.

HGM: Which games hold your interest?

KT: Lately the only game to interest me is Ico. When I was younger I used to play Dragon Quest on the Super Famicom.

Apparently, he then goes on to say he doesn’t want to limit himself to games, stating that he’s frustrated that the only interaction you have with games is the controller. “You’re just sitting there looking at the screen,” he says.

Uh, yeah. That’s kinda the point.

Quote:Katamari Damacy creator and wonderkind Keita Takahashi proves once again how much he hates games. (I was beginning to worry whether or not he really detested gaming.) Check out the Japanese Katamari site and see the following story that unfolds between a boy and a bear.

BOY: What’s Katamari Damacy
BEAR: It’s a video game!
BOY: What? What’s a video game?
BEAR: (playing a shooter) You connect the game console to the TV and then control the image on the screen. It’s an amazing way to play.

[The Bear’s spacecraft is destroyed.]

BOY: Oh no.

[“Game Over” appears on the screen.]

BOY: You really suck. I understand what videogames are, but I still don’t know what Katamari Damacy is. Thank you very much.

Woah. Read between the lines: Video games are violent tripe, while Katamari is different and not a video game. Did loose canon Takahashi slip this subversive commentary into the site or did Namco ok it? Considering how the company pretty much invented the shooter with Galaga, their hands ain’t exactly clean.

If you click around some more, you can find the part where the boy tells the bear to kill his PlayStation and go to an art museum with uncle Keita.

Click on the Boy [Official Site]