Anatomy of Game Design: Kitchen Table Theater

In the last installment, I talked about the magic circle and its role in games. I also mentioned there was a use in other performative ventures for the magic circle. The truth is, games also have a performative element to them. Players shift from focal point to audience as their turns come and go. More importantly is what a player does or how he behaves. Like actors, games take on roles; even if they are unaware they do so. This is why games are kitchen table theater.
The play space of a game is no different than that of the stage. Everyone is given a part. The boundaries are made distinct by the grammar of the genre. Players and actors both interpret what their roles are within the context of the rules of the game or play. Pratfalls and witty dialogue are inappropriate for most dramas, but they are expected and conform to the rules of the comedy genre. There are games where some behaviors are not only discouraged, but completely inappropriate.
Let’s look at a game like Monopoly to see what kitchen table theater looks like and how some roles are affected. The premise of this game is to accumulate more wealth than anyone else. Players are left to determine which strategy they will pursue to achieve the game’s goals. Will one haggle, buy everything in sight, negotiate, cooperate with some players and not others, or play out of spite? This last one is often a result of sibling rivalry. When we play a game like this, we are assuming a role permissible not only by the rules, but also our fellow players. It’s probably safe to assume that not every waking moment of siblings is spent in rivalry or animosity. As such, the behavior during play isn’t necessarily a reflection of filial emotions in the long term. It can be a carryover of feelings in the moment, however.
Using the table as a theater, the game becomes the setting for the scripted framework for the type of story the players are about to watch and perform in. For those versed in theater, there should be some identifiable elements of the tabletop theater with Augusto Boal’s Theater of the Oppressed (that’s because he used games). The spectators are the actors and their ability to shape the performance as it unfolds is just like what gamers do when playing Monopoly.
You won’t see the same behavior in a chess match as you do in a game of Monopoly. That’s because the structure of play changes not only the performances allowed, but also the rules which govern the roles available. So, it isn’t just how you act, but what persona you adopt that is at stake. The game might not have a story itself, but the lack of one does not negate role assumption.
Most people aren’t cutthroat real estate brokers, even if they are realtors! Chess players aren’t necessarily generals using cold, calculated logic to navigate everyday situations. They might be better planners, but that is a result of skill, not the role assumed. To claim otherwise is to assume one well versed in the role of Shakespeare’s Iago is as ruthless and conniving with his friends and loved ones offstage as well as on. The actor’s familiarity with the role and his skill at playing it does not mean he’s going to harm anyone outside the play any more than one who’s assumed the role of the spoiler in Monopoly is going to eternally cajole, nettle, and foil the targeted relative until the end of one of their days when the game is over. But, it is still an act performed on a stage. Only difference is the audience isn’t the world; it is the handful of player-spectators who are also putting on their own show, congruity not required.

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Anatomy of Game Design: The Social Contract/Magic Circle

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Anatomy of Game Design: House Rules

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