Walking through the doors to the sounds of tribal drumming, attendees were sent first to a row of tables, where Microsoft representatives handed them white satin smocks, complete with ballooning shoulder pads. The unquestioning invitees donned them and were ushered two-by-two down a black-curtained hallway, where more oddness awaited.
At the end of the hall, a low, wide-screen television-shaped hole was cut into a wall. Behind it, a gleaming nuclear family sat in a perfect living room, inviting us inside. I acquiesced, but not without some hesitation. The whitebread parents were creepy enough, but it was the two children that set my teeth on edge. They waved at me, all smiles, beckoning me in. What must they be thinking? I stepped through, my cultist white robe catching on the wooden frame of the Fourth Wall as I did. And then things started to get really weird.
Imagine a giant, darkened basketball stadium with robed figures filling the floor and seats. It looks like a staging area for extras in a Star Trek episode. Now suspend a leopard-print couch from the ceiling, and perch a family of three on it. Opposite them, a shirtless man in a loincloth sits atop a faux boulder while elven wood nymph types frolic at the edges. Green gauze, piles of plants and giant (and I mean giant) media screens line the perimeter. It's as if the people who design Rainforest Cafes got incredibly high together and decided to spend $1 million.
Speaking of enormous sums of money, let me back up. Microsoft has been hyping its new controller-free gaming initiative since the last Electronic Entertainment Expo. Since then, it's gone under the name Project Natal. And it was supposed to stay that way until this evening's E3 2010 reveal, where we would learn the finished product's new lineup (and hopefully a bit more about it). But thanks to an early slip in USA Today's online version, the name Kinect and a list of games was released in advance. Not a huge deal in the overall scheme, but the leak did take some of the wind out of Microsoft's white satin sails. When the name 'Kinect' finally materialized on an enormous vertical projection screen in the middle of the event, it served more as a period than an exclamation point for the audience, most of whom had already read about the new name on the iPhones they were asked not to bring to the event.
To be clear, the Kinect unveiling was not designed for super-gamers, most of whom still greet the idea of controller-less gaming with a skeptical narrowing of the eyes. It was, in a way, the anti-console launch. With its purposeful lack of detail and obtuse artistic posturing, it pushed aside most expectations of an E3 product unveiling. There were no speeches, no executives, no price points, no release dates. There weren't even any developer names or game titles mentioned. Instead of retail porn, attendees were bathed in image and metaphor.
What if humans regained their rightful places at the center of the technology experience? What if interactive entertainment took an evolutionary leap past controllers and other handheld devices? What if a young boy rode a multimedia elephant and climbed inside of a rotating living room full of multiple fun-filled families? Excellent questions, all.
Kinect was, of course offered up as the answer to all of the above, and the latter half of the event featured lengthy demos of several upcoming games for the system. The usual suspects appeared – kart racer, family sports medley, fitness program, virtual pet, etc. Some, like the endearing Kinectimals and a clever looking Star Wars game, seemed fresh and interesting. Others fell squarely into the inoffensive family fare category. Safe and likely fun, but not extraordinary.
Unlike most gaming events, the Kinect reveal was distinctly calm and atmospheric. It was less about providing information and more about, you know, standing around and doing whatever. Living in Seattle, I frequently see shirtless, dreadlocked hippie guys hanging out in parks. I often wonder, what do these guys grow up and do for a living? There are only so many organic grocery store jobs, after all. But now I know. They move to Montreal, join Cirque Du Soleil, dance around in unitards, and eventually try to sell me gaming peripherals. Small world.
My moment of zen came not as the burlapped elf men playfully dangled tin cans from sticks or when the show-closing music swelled as images of Xbox Live Avatars flew against a starry sky. For me, the highlight of the evening was watching Ninja Gaiden creator Tomonobu Itagaki walk into the event in his white robe, taking in the scene behind his traditional sunglasses. He looked around a few times, stood quietly for a few moments and then turned around and left.