Mobile VR is Doing a Disservice to the Medium
It’s a hot topic lately — hotter than almost any new technology I’ve seen in my time as a consumer and journalist — but the truth of the matter is that virtual reality isn’t going to disappear anytime soon. That is, if mobile can get out of its way.
Like many new types of entertainment, the future success of a medium is reliant solely on consumer opinion. Trade shows do a lot to get more eyes on new tech, to get the word out, and to start the buzz on their products. VR has never really had THAT issue. It’s been the ideal desire of every gamer, movie-buff, and sci-fi fan for decades. Nearly every interpretation of “what technology will be like in 20XX” depicted some form of VR or another. So, the groundwork has been laid without the same efforts normally needed for interestingly fresh tech.
Some now ask why it is still taking its time exploding into a legitimate medium, and why there isn’t a VR set in every household across the land. My theory is simple; mobile VR is tarnishing the public perception of what the real thing can do.
True virtual reality is transcendent. Sure, there have been lack-luster experiences that I’ve taken part in (and wished the end had arrived sooner), but that’s rare with this medium. Just writing out that concept, that there’s a venue out there provoking nearly every creator to do something more, to build something better, to go that extra mile, is exhilarating to witness.
In the best-case scenario, you forget who you are. A few years back, I was in Victoria BC talking and demoing some of British Columbia’s best in technological entertainment. There were mostly tables with what you would call “normal games”, but a few wielded headsets, one of them being Cloudhead Games from Vancouver Island. They’ve been designing a story-based puzzle experience for the HTC Vive, and every bead of sweat poured into the project turned the result into something magical.
It was my first big experience disappearing into another world. Roughly four in the afternoon and I was given the least instruction possible before ascending into the tutorial level that explains how to interact with the world you’re about to enjoy. Once I had my virtual feet under me, I was on my way into this drastically different experience. Roaming through caves, reading hand-written notes on parchment to gain ideas about puzzles, attempting to burn things with a candle I had found and was now carrying around with me wherever I went. It was amazing how “in it” I felt. I’m no stranger to games, and I’m well acquainted with immersive story, but nothing prepares you to “be the person in the game”, something first-person games have been attempting to do for decades.
Hours later, without noticing time moving in the slightest, I took my headset off (due to fatigue, not completion), and the show hall was nearly empty. Most of the booths had packed up and left, almost all of the attendees well on their way back to their hotels, or whichever afterparty they had decided to join. I was almost alone. “We didn’t want to interrupt your session”, said the developer running my demo. I had essentially “left”, and didn’t know that time was passing in the world I was once a part of. After being another person for hours, who was left in that booth? I almost didn’t know. I wanted more. I needed to go back in. VR had me.
Since then, I’ve been a champion of the medium in arguments, and my ideals are that of a futurist.
All my adoration for VR aside, the available content on mobile is a bit of a joke; there are light-hearted but mechanically broken games, plenty of lackluster VR media players, and a lifetime worth of poorly executed ideas. As it shares the name with the PC-based peripheral, the disservice is almost insulting. Considering the real deal is so extraordinary, the underwhelming mobile experience needs to step aside for the public to truly accept VR into their entertainment rituals.
The experiences that can be had in “real VR” aren’t even remotely mirrored in the mobile counterpart. And that’s just what it is; an opposer.
Look at any vastly open dialog with consumers (the Google Play Store on mobile springs to mind), and you’ll see that inundation doesn’t bode well for the medium. Sure, mobile games aren’t going to die anytime soon, but should you publish your title on Android (and you’ve got a real title), then a portion of the work has to go into convincing the audience there that your product is a legit one. Which let’s face it, the majority just aren’t.
I spend a lot of time playing mobile games as research, and by far the most trying section of my day is weeding through the (sometimes literal) garbage. Look at the other side of the coin and you’ve got the Apple App Store that is notoriously stricter on the content it allows, and far more hands-on with their vetting process. If a game makes it on that store, I nearly always assume that it’s the real deal.
The point of entry in producing mobile VR experiences is the cost of a free Google Cardboard (go to any dev conference and they’re handing them out like hot towels) and a bit of your passion. The same can’t be said for the high price of dev kits for the real deal. The superior Vive is $1200 CAD, and it’s brother, the Oculus Rift, is just shy of $1000 CAD. Couple that with the tech, and hardware you need to develop products for the systems, and you’ve got to REALLY believe in what you’re doing before even considering pouring money into a title for either pc-tethered device.
I can repeat the same sentiment over and over, with different verbiage, but you don’t need that, do you?
It’s time to redefine — or rename — mobile VR so that it can take the backseat it needs to in order for the authentic experience to succeed.
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written by Wyatt Fosett for Hammer & Tusk. Wyatt is a freelance writer; see more of his work at wfossett.com, or visit him on Twitter @w_fossett.
