Collide Games

“I only have time for a short one.”

I hear words to that effect most game nights, usually towards the end of things. People are heading off, but they’re eager for one more quick game, something light and easy to pick up and play.

Usually it’s a small box card game, something that could be packed up and taken with you on a trip. The rules are simple, the downtime between player turns is short. Games like Loveletter or Deduckto are perfect examples, and, although they aren’t my favourite kinds of games, I do get a good degree of enjoyment out of them for the time I spend playing them.

For me though, I enjoy heavier titles with more “crunchiness”, things like Root, Eclipse, Dune Imperium and at the very top end of complexity and length, Twilight Imperium. I was thinking lately, what is it that attracts me to these games and why might others be put off from trying them? It occurred to me that, in some large part, the length of games themselves can be a key reason why someone is dissuaded (or in my case, persuaded) to try a new game.

Don’t love it? Leave it!

One very obvious reason why people might prefer shorter games is the lower “buy in” of play. What if you are roped into playing a new game, you pull out all the components (longer games often require longer setups too, don’t forget) and get started and find out you hate the thing? It just doesn’t gel with you, you don’t like how a certain mechanic is implemented or maybe you misunderstood the level of complexity going in. And, unfortunately, more complicated and lengthy games usually can’t handle a player up and leaving early either. Duck out and the play experience of the others at the table is usually thrown out of order. I (and I am sure many others) have been in such a situation, stuck playing a game we aren’t particularly enjoying but toughing it out for the sake of the other players. 

Of course, things come up in real life and sometimes an early departure from the table is necessary. Often this is actually a result of miscommunicating or misunderstanding a game’s expected length. A game that was described as “quick” or “simple” ends up going on longer than anticipated and people need to go catch the bus or put dinner on. It’s unfortunate, but always understandable.

A shorter game somewhat soothes this problem, a lower time investment means less risk of a drawn out negative play experience. Don’t enjoy Loveletter? The game only will last another twenty minutes at most if you feel compelled to stick through it, and if not, it’s more accommodating to a player who needs (or wants) to leave early than something like Twilight Imperium.

Behind the times.

Another thing to consider when it comes to game length, is the difficulty some games have when it comes to “playing from behind” or catching up to the leader. For some, there’s nothing more demoralising than being drastically behind five hours into an epic scale strategy game, looking covetously at your opponent’s position on the victory track and feeling hopeless. If there’s no chance for victory, why bother beyond going through the motions of your turn and wait for it all to end? Shorter games can feature such predicaments as well, but it’s easier to tolerate when the time till your inevitable defeat is measured in minutes, not hours.

For me, this is less of an issue. I personally enjoy the social aspects, the wheeling and dealing, alliance making and promise breaking of longer games, even when I am hopelessly behind. It becomes a bit of a puzzle in my mind, to see how, beyond all reason, I might be able to sneak out a win by playing to my outs. I appreciate this isn’t everyone’s perspective however, and think players are generally more tolerant of losing badly in games that don’t take that long to play.

Gathering Steam.

On the flipside, one of the reasons I actually enjoy longer games more is the sense of achievement that comes with “coming online” in an engine builder or strategy game.In such games, a large part of the early to mid game is made up of committing to and executing a strategy which won’t become fully realised until the final stages of play. The feeling of accomplishment when a plan set in motion hours ago bears fruit can’t really be captured in a game like Loveletter which focuses on short rounds and efficient play of the hand you’ve been dealt. You can’t go in with a game plan as such, you just need to manage the circumstances of your situation as best you can.

In addition, the greater depth of such games allows for players to engage with mechanics that best suit their playstyle preferences in a unique way and having more time to really engage with the play experience is highly enjoyable for people like me. When I play Root and I pick a faction I like such as the Corvid Conspiracy, I know that I will have a solid two hours or so of fun thinking ahead and trying to execute their gameplan.

Eliminating probabilities.

A final aspect I think is somewhat overlooked in the conversation about length of playtime, is the presence (or absence) of elimination and chance mechanics in a game. Games that feature the ability for a player to be eliminated entirely (not just for a turn or round) probably ought to be shorter than ones where a player can always come back no matter how unlikely. The reason for this is pretty simple, it’s not really that fun to sit on the sidelines and watch other people enjoy the game while you wait for a new one to start. Many social deduction games grapple with this issue and usually resolve it either through having short rounds of play (like Night of the Ninja or Coup) or by allowing eliminated players to still participate in some fashion (like Blood on the Clocktower). By having little downtime between being eliminated and getting back into the game, or being able to participate in some other way, players are encouraged to remain engaged despite being “out” temporarily or even permanently.

A game which handles the elimination factor poorly in my estimation is Monopoly, in which going Bankrupt removes a player from the game entirely. Unlike the above examples, there’s no continued, limited participation or any guarantee that the rest of the game will resolve quickly after a player goes bankrupt. I can say, from personal experience, it is not uncommon for one player to lose at Monopoly and have it go on for another hour or more between the remaining contestants. This is definitely a negative play experience, leaving the unlucky gamer on the sidelines, having already lost but waiting for someone else to win so they can play again.

Likewise, games where chance is a major factor in a player’s success or failure are probably best kept short and sweet. This is mostly the case for party games where much of the fun comes from the chaos of a rapidly changing state of play, and players can easily win or lose based on no real skill of their own. If these games have long playtimes, they run the risk of a player being stuck in a losing game over which they feel they have very little agency.

A run of bad luck in a short game can be aggravating, but a chance to start fresh in a new round often has its own special appeal. This really only happens in games with a shorter play time or games that are broken up into shorter rounds which act more like self-contained subgames. Think of a game like Poker, each hand usually only takes minutes to play and although a Poker “game” can last hours, it is really a culmination of multiple smaller games that players can walk out from at any interval.

In contrast, I can’t really think of any high variance games that are particularly lengthy, but if I could I doubt they would be very enjoyable. Games with long run times usually need to justify their length by having early game decisions make the foundation upon which the late game is built upon. In Twilight Imperium, what parts of the board players expand to on their first few turns will decide who has access to critical resources and strategic positions for the rest of the game (or until someone wrestles control away from their previous owner). 

In a theoretical high variance game with a long play time, I can imagine situations in the early game where bad luck effectively locks out a player from being able to meaningfully compete for the rest of the game. Alternatively, if chance elements can change things on a dime and wrest an unlikely victory from the jaws of defeat based on a few random dice rolls or lucky card pulls, why bother having a game run that long? Just have the entire game be based around those critical few moments.

A lot of the enjoyment (for me at least) of those longer games is the feeling of accomplishment that comes with building the foundations of success from the very first action onwards. I am not entirely opposed to chance, but I would be immensely frustrated if a single random element nullified hours of hard work.

Putting it all together:

So, how long is too long? Well, like most subjective questions, there’s no universal answer to it. Different types of games, with different weights and levels of complexity will appeal to different crowds. What is important is that games highlight what they are and what they are not to the potential player.

There’s no point getting someone who’s favourite game of all time is Uno to sit down and endure an eight hour endeavour of a grand strategy game. It won’t be fun for them or for the players who are there for that sort of thing.

To me, game length is a signifier not only of how long a game will take, but also the complexity of its systems and the depth of its mechanics. I’ve been told it is actually a better indicator of the intended age range for the game than the age indicator itself (which is more often than not there as a small parts warning) and that it is one of the things game designers often overlook to their detriment.

I’ll admit, it was something I had barely considered before embarking on this journey, but now I am more keenly aware of. Are my playtests going on longer than I expected, are things dragging too much? It’s all part of the mental calculus of creating the most optimal play experience for your group. Getting the balance of a game’s length is a tough act, but one we could all be a bit more cognizant of.