Opinion: PAX Doesn’t Need AAAs
Upon entering the Boston Convention Center for the media hour on Thursday morning, the anticipation of covering PAX East in person once again was feverish. Despite that excitement, I made sure to keep my expectations in check. While I didn’t attend PAX West for myself, I reflected on conversations describing the Seattle show as vacant and light. Judging by the East map alone, our Managing Editor Harry Loizides sensed vast improvement. But until those doors opened, who knew what we were all getting ourselves into. Once they did, I was stricken with a range of (mostly positive) emotions.
One thing was made abundantly clear as soon as we reached the bottom of the escalator: the show floor felt lighter compared to previous years. Splitting the north and south ends of the expo hall was a massive, spacious hallway. Previous attendees know “spacious” is not a word one would usually describe a PAX event as. With the lack of companies such as Nintendo, Sony, Square Enix, and THQ Nordic taking up prime real estate, the expo hall gave off a lighter energy with a clear focus. And you know what? It was fantastic.
The lack of massive show-piece booths allowed for room to breathe; something that has been quite rare in previous years. Instead of crowds gathering in attempts to play Final Fantasy VII Remake, fight for Animal Crossing pins, or snag a photo with horrifying aliens, the density was spread evenly throughout the show floor across all days. Even on Saturday, the only day that was completely sold out, congestion was minimal aside from areas around booths solely selling goods. Wait times for playing the games themselves also saw a massive improvement. To provide an example, this was the first year I was able to walk up to a kiosk at Devolver Digital and play a heavily anticipated title (in this instance, Trek To Yomi) with little-to-no wait. In previous years, if I didn’t have an appointment, I didn’t bother going anywhere near boots such as Devolver. Of course, this wasn’t universal. Cult of The Lamb, which only had one kiosk at Devolver, saw wait times up to five hours before the line was capped.
The lack of major players provided some of the larger, yet not exactly mainstream independent publishers with the chance to shine prominently throughout the weekend. Focus Home Interactive quickly became must-visit locales courtesy of Evil West and TMNT. The graffitti-fuel attitude of Wired Productions was an alluring spot with titles such as The Last Worker and Gori to support. Newcomer DreadXP spurred up intrigue with their horror-adjacent yet remarkably varied lineup of games. The ever-so passionate and fascinating DreadXP founder, Ted Hentschke, always never failed to hold a discussion regarding the games and the DreadXP mission with attendees and media alike. As word of mouth spread, PM Studios became a destination spot with their addictive multiplayer party brawler, Squish. Boasting an impressive lineup with an outstanding and friendly crew working the vibrant and pink block, Thunderful was a clear standout where spirits were always high and booth flow was unmatched. The overarching theme connecting all of these fascinating publishers is the genuine surrounding energy. No offense towards reps who tend to work major booths, but interactions tend to feel colder; an employee talking to a potential customer. Throughout all of the examples provided, the representatives stationed at their respective booths all provided a warm environment with a feverish enthusiasm about not only the games, but being able to connect in-person.
The genuine and warm welcome was heavily expressed throughout the indie developers showcasing their games at standalone booths as well. Thankfully, that energy was mutual among attendees. The focus on smaller indies was ever-present. Without the urge to rush to a Nintendo or PlayStation, the expo hall naturally promoted a sense of discoverability each day. Lining the walls and filling pockets between the larger booths housed an impressive variety of experiences, all of which created the urge to uncover the next hidden gem. As days approached their end, whispers began to spread throughout attendees and media. Plunder Panic, Yukyo Station, Writer’s Block, and Uragun to name a few were among the list of must-play titles before the sun set on the weekend. Traditionally, the noise of AAAs would drown out the hidden gems. When asking various developers how reception has been, the answer was always similar: overwhelmingly positive, and even surprising in some cases. Across my many laps around the expo hall, no booth was ever vacant; a notion that completely warmed my heart to see.
Now with the comfortable space, a sharper focus on indies, and a warm, genuine sense of enthusiasm also came the one major elephant in the expo hall: the absence of the Indie Megabooth. Founded by Kelly Wallick, the Indie Megabooth provided a diverse class of independent developers a home to showcase their work to the public. With the help of partners and alumni, Wallick’s team has been able to award over $250k in grants to promote a thriving indie ecosystem. But with the pandemic in full effect and events on hold, the Indie Megabooth went on an indefinite hiatus as of May 2020. The Indie Megabooth and accompanying Minibooth hosted an impressive 79 games across 78 teams during PAX East 2020. The breath of passion, creativity, and innovation throughout the Indie Megabooth never failed to inspire, delight, and surprise. Two years later, the absence was heavily felt throughout the weekend. What Wallick and her team has built with the Indie Megabooth is unlike anything the industry has ever seen, and unfortunately, may never see again.
Credit: @PowerChordGame
There is, of course, PAX Rising; a curated collection of games selected by the PAX Team and Kickstarter. Developers submit an application (with an accompanying entry fee) for the chance to be one of twelve games selected to be featured on the show floor with PAX and Kickstarter covering the cost. Having a dedicated curated space of the expo hall for indies is a wonderful initiative, but by all means is no replacement for the Megabooth. At the end of the day, PAX is a business. I understand the need to charge an entry fee to help soften the blow of giving up booth space. But if the Megabooth’s indefinite hiatus morphs into a true end, it would be truly fantastic to see PAX adapt some of Wallick’s practices. Expand Rising further, hustling for sponsorships and grants, and provide independent creators an approachable avenue to showcase their creations. But in reality, it’s hard to imagine that happening. Again: PAX/Penny Arcade, Reedpop, and Kickstarter are all businesses, not nonprofits.
So, what’s the point I’m trying to make here. To put it simply: PAX doesn’t need AAAs. To my delightful surprise, this was the most enjoyable PAX I have ever attended. There was room to breathe and wander comfortably across all four days; a necessary characteristic of an expo hall in modern days. There was never the fear of missing out due to overwhelming booths with dense crowds. The cliche salesperson/customer relationship was non-existent; everyone felt as if they were a part of the same community with the sole purpose of celebrating games. And of course, the enthralling focus on indies was enticing. There is still plenty of room for improvement, particularly in terms of a suitable replacement for the Megabooth and the future of Rising, but this is precisely how PAX needed to kick off the start of a fresh chapter. Yes - I’m in the business of indies (typed to the cadence of Misery Business), so I understand if I stand alone here. But with how many elements of the show excelled throughout the weekend, I hope to see PAX double down on what worked for 2023 and beyond.
Written by Mike Towndrow