Program 8: Flight to Kini-Nui
An over-used expression, but in October of 2001, as the dust from the World Trade Center settled around us, we really did keep calm, and carried on. Flash’s versatility allowed adding entire features on-the-fly, and so by duplicating the method used for inventory items, players could “collect” entire characters as they traveled the island, gathering their team for a showdown.
The mini-game at the end of the episode was intentionally deep in order to keep players entertained in an endless loop until the next and final chapter. This time, there was a narrative to playing it over and over - every play was another sortie by the Rahi against the temple’s defenders - always repulsed, always exhausting, until the next chapter went online.
The idea of ping-ponging across territory as you win and lose battles is common now in modern shooters and arenas; the system of countering strengths and weaknesses is typical in mobile turn-based fighting games; and cool-down timers are pretty standard too. So we had a sort of turn-based, yet real-time game.
Nonetheless, a sort of 6-D matrix of data made leveraging your friends’ abilities intuitive rather than strategic since it was impossible to cross-reference the combination of speed, damage, and bonuses between your allies and enemies. And anyway, the player only learned these advantages through vague hints offered by friends when spoken to. Finally, it all had to be done in time, since different cooldown (or powerup?) speeds meant constant management of all units in real-time.
For all that, though, it was the narrative themes that came together in Program 8. MNOG was a sideshow, originally, for Bionicle, and only because of the collapse of the PC game did it (and Greg’s comics) have to shoulder all the storytelling. And since Greg had the main story of the Toa in his comics, and there was no point in repeating it, we could only use the Matoran (Tohunga) for our game. Our mission was only to communicate the world of Mata Nui - LEGO may have been fine with a trivia game, or a nicely illustrated wiki.
Alastair Swinnerton and the LEGO story team did an incredible job with the product bible that we worked from, creating everything from the main story of the Toa to the settings and characters, down to (enigmatic) blurbs for the Matoran secondary characters. For example, Kapura’s note in the bible, near the end of the section on Ta-Koro, reads: “…it is Vakama’s secret wish that Kapura’s single minded nature will enable him to learn the secret art of covering large distances, quickly by walking slowly. Kapura has a habit of coughing and farting flameballs which often tries Vakama’s patience and is a constant irritation to the studious Ahi.“
That was it. “Learn the secret art of covering large distances, quickly by walking slowly.” Odd, yes. Senseless, even. We had no communication with the story team at all - they were in the UK, or Denmark - we were a sideshow - we couldn’t even ask what the heck that meant. But what if we used it anyway? What if Kapura was really, really slow? So, like the cablecar, we started to just put these things in. Kapura is the first character you meet, and he’s just as weird - wandering around the burnt-out forest, really slowly. But by the time Program 8 rolled around, we had the groundwork. It’s weird, slow Kapura who catches up to you to bring you the messages - he finally managed to do the impossible - the ridiculous - after all.
For us, it was wonderful - like having someone set up all your toys for you, so that all you have to do is go in and start moving them around. But unlike the Toa, there was no story at all for the Matoran for 2001. They’d mapped everything out for Tahu and Gali and the others before handing it to Greg - but not us. While the REAL heroes - the big ones with the big swords (and the big price points) - were out saving the world, what were the Tohunga doing? Just being saved?
What they gave us at the beginning were the helpless, powerless, small. Insignificant, without even a part in the main story, except to be rescued from time to time.
But sometime toward the end, we realized that’s exactly what our audience was: the small, the powerless. Those whose stories are yet to be written. Kids.
And not just kids - Bionicle kids. So we pushed it further. The Toa were heroes - Takua was not, and nor were his friends. They were small and powerless, just like the kids playing. And maybe they weren’t even the popular kids. So the band of Matoran you assemble isn’t even the best and brightest (well, except Maku). It’s not the Turagas’ right-hands, it’s their lefts: the misfits, the weirdos. A Le-Koran who can’t fly. A Po-Koran no one likes. A Ko-Koran that can’t talk.
When you go to get help, the Turagas don’t give you their GOOD people. What you get are the losers. Maybe there were more than a few Bionicle fans who identified with them. And we wanted to show that in the end, they could be heroes, too.
