I recently released One Bit Bandit, a game about gambling and other vices. I’m not sure if it really qualifies as an “anti-game” just yet, but I definitely wanted it to be something a little beyond mere entertainment.
Some parts of this game are intentionally boring; the interactions are limited, and you have no control over the outcome of each spin. And yet, even as the developer, knowing exactly how everything works behind the scenes, I found myself intrigued. I wanted to spin one more time. Just to see what would come up next. Surely I was about to hit big?
Of course, there’s no reason to actually believe your next spin will be any better than the last. To make things worse, your winnings are practically useless, apart from letting you buy increasingly expensive drinks from the bar, which, in turn, do absolutely nothing. Any sense of meaning or progression comes entirely from the players themselves. The game isn’t forcing you to be here, let alone keep spinning. But curiosity and self-deception are at the heart of this experience. You want to see what happens next. You want to believe a win is due soon. So you’re compelled to try again.
The flashing lights, the sound of coins falling out, and the never-ending song of the live band are all, naturally, appealing. Maybe a bit too much, in hindsight. But it’s hard to comment on the appeal of slot machines without making the act of playing itself appealing. When trying to portray the emptiness of gambling, you inevitably end up echoing some of its allure as well.
Every single outcome in this game really is random. In fact, it’s far from guaranteed that you’ll ever see a jackpot, unless you’re actually lucky. But even if you do, and you spend thousands of fake credits on fake drinks… the fake bartender will eventually close up and go home.
And you’re still here. Endlessly spinning a machine that has nothing to offer, convincing yourself that it’s all going to be worth it in the end.
Feeling lucky? You can take One Bit Bandit for a spin on Playdate or web browser!