Hello & Welcome - To Replay Value
I love it when it’s incumbent on me to strategize.
There’s a thrill in the process of developing
and executing on a plan, an expectation for
how it’ll turn out that is either matched
by reality producing immense satisfaction,
or a crushing realization that there was some
variable unaccounted for that ended your best
efforts.
That’s why I love games like Risk and Settlers of Catan,
titles like Fire Emblem and Civilization,
or - in a similar vein - narratives that follow
a strategist or tactician.
Strategy is an interesting narrative type
to write, because traditionally it’s inherently
at odds with suspense, which is as engaging
an emotion as you can hope to find.
It’s hard to keep an audience invested when
they know what’s going to happen and the
end result is as clear as day.
To deal with this writers have developed strategies
themselves to go about maintaining this balance
- and about 95% of good strategy writing finds
itself in one of four types.
Today we’ll be taking a look at each of
those methods, using a case study for each
from a variety of anime series, and try to
figure out why and when they’re effective.
The most common and most cliche version of
writing strategy is what that clip from Community
was just parodying.
The basic outline is for the character to
say something equivalent to “I have a plan”
either a cut to black or immediate cut to
the action, and then in the aftermath an explanation
of what the strategy was that lead to the
outcome that we just observed.
I refer to it as post-action explanation.
It’s the most simple way to do it, because
it maintains full suspense of both what the
plan is and what the outcome is going to be
- and that’s why you see it done so much
to the point where it’s a trope of strategists.
It’s particularly effective in a high paced
environment, where you don’t want to pull
the viewer out of the moment or delay the
start of the event any longer.
You can probably think of dozens of examples
yourself - so I wanted to pick an example
that abstracted this method a bit as to clearly
show why it still falls under this umbrella.
Boku no Hero Academia is probably one of the
most popular shows that I could talk about
and it has a great example of how the shonen
genre tends to approach strategy.
Generally shonen wants to establish a character
as smart, but without getting too complex
or spending a ton of time on each strategy.
In the First Season there’s a 2v2 between
Team Izuku and Ochaco vs Team Bakugo and Iida.
Izuku’s team is tasked with either capturing
their opponents or the bomb, the others play
defense.
We get a primer to Izuku’s strategic thinking
as he outplays Bakugo in their first encounter,
having better knowledge of what his opponent
was going to try and do - but in the 1v1 Izuku
has little chance against Bakugo’s fearsome
skill.
With little time remaining he contacts Ochaco.
This is the equivalent of “I have a plan”
- but instead of cutting to black of saying
anything to clearly indicate strategy, our
audio cuts to All Might warning Bakugo that
if he unleashes a full blast again he’ll
disqualify him.
When we return from that, Izuku has ended
his conveyance of the plan - allowing the
two continue their fight, before Izuku unleashes
his quirk skyward - giving Ochaco a chance
to stun Iida and capture the bomb.
In the aftermath Izuku doesn’t go over the
plan’s details - since it was conveyed so
simply through visuals, instead confirming
that it was no accident but his plan to win.
While breaking from the standard in two ways,
the key element of keeping suspense through
no discussion of the plan and to maintain
the tight pace of a fight scene both highlight
the purpose of this category.
The second category of strategy writing that
I’ve created is the timeline strategic explanation.
This style may or may not use the similar
“I have a plan” cut, but as opposed to
simply keeping the audience in the dark about
the strategy, we instead get a voiceover explaining
the plan as each element comes into play.
This method keeps you engaged by giving you
a constant trickle of questions and answers
that in turn lead to more questions and answers.
You don’t get the full strategy until its
completed, so you’re constantly wondering
how the next element will be accounted for
or how it all builds up to the end goal, leaving
you in suspense while also outlining the strategy.
This style works really well when you’re
trying to slow down the pacing or when you’re
trying to explicitly tell how brilliant the
character is, as they seemingly recognize
every plausible variable between the beginning
and end of the plan.
Legend of the Galactic Heroes’ capture of
Iserlohn Fortress in Episode 7 of The New
Thesis is a great example of why this style
is effective.
We know Yang has a plan to capture the impregnable
Iserlohn because he says as much in the previous
episode, but at the start of this episode
we cut to the invaders docking having successfully
cleared the first hurdle.
Throughout each hurdle as Yang and Frederica
call them, they voiceover what’s happening
on screen like the body check or the need
for Seffle Particles, or in some cases flashback
to the initial discussion of the plan back
on Heinessen.
It slows down the pace of the sequence a lot,
which builds the tension as the Rossen Ritter
move deeper and deeper into the Fortress,
with every step becoming a lot more treacherous
than the last.
Of course The New Thesis also uses the threat
of Schenkopp’s betrayal as a way to create
suspense, on top of the question of whether
he’ll succeed or not or how he’ll achieve
the goal of capturing the control room.
It also highlights how simple and brilliant
Yang’s plan is - using basic human overconfidence
as the basis to achieve a huge strategic victory.
Not only is this sequence well written, it
showcases why the timeline strategic explanation
is used to build intrigue through slower pacing,
and gives the most space to characterize the
strategist.
Our third style that we’re discussing today
is the Goal Omission.
In this style we’re either given the entirety
of the plan at the beginning, or it’s teased
out over time like the timeline strategic
explanation but the viewer is unsure what
the strategy’s final objective is, or the
critical element that’s going to bring it
all together.
By omitting the key element we’re left wondering
for what purpose the strategy was crafted,
and kept in suspense until that’s revealed.
I like this style when the writer is attempting
to engage the audience by having them try
to predict how it all comes together, or when
they’re going for the big reveal moment
for shock value.
This style also works well for characters
who display Machiavellian tendencies, as the
omission of the character’s goal can brilliantly
setup dramatic betrayals, when the audience
experiences the crushing realization that
the character’s goal was actually in stark
contrast to the audience’s wishes - that’s
a powerful emotional moment, though that isn’t
the case for our example.
Log Horizon’s main character Shiroe is a
strategist and while the previous two styles
certainly are applicable to other moments
- the purchasing of the Guild Building is
one of the best Goal Omissions and probably
the high point of the entire series.
Log Horizon outlines in Episode 6 that Shiroe
wants to restore Akihabara and save the twins
from a guild that’s exploiting them.
We’re also informed right at the top that
he needs a ton of money in order to put the
plan into action.
But we don’t know how these things all connect
- the key element is obscure - unlike the
Capture of Iserlohn Fortress where we knew
from the get-go how capturing the control
panel would lead to Alliance Victory.
From that point we go through the timeline
strategic explanation as they open up a food
stall, meet with merchant guilds, and the
invitation of the large guilds to the round
table conference.
As we go into Episode 9 it’s still unclear
how the events in the last 2 episodes relate
to the goal laid out in Episode 6 - and while
the round table conference starts to turn
for the worst, Shiroe having no real bargaining
power over the combat guilds, the big reveal
happens.
Shiroe has purchased the Guild Building for
5 million gold - giving him the biggest bargaining
chip imaginable against the guilds assembled
at the conference - the ability to deny them
access to their bank, and a clear path to
saving the twins by effectively disbanding
the evil guild.
It’s a moment where you’re forced to reckon
with Shiroe’s ingenuity, and puts you in
the same mindstate - shock - as both the other
round table attendees and Shiroe’s allies
who had various levels of knowledge about
the plan.
The purchasing of the Guild Building is a
great example of why Goal Omission can be
so effective - by purposefully keeping the
audience in the dark, the author of the work
displays the brilliance of the strategist
in question by surprising and deceiving one
of the most omnipotent entities in the work:
the viewer.
The final style of strategy writing that I’m
going to talk about here is the opposite of
all of the previous three.
This style reveals the plan and goal right
at the beginning, making sure that the audience
is aware of how things are supposed to go...and
then something goes wrong and the entire plan
falls off the rails.
There’s a tendency to go straight from plan
announcement to it going wrong to make sure
that the audience doesn’t get bored as things
slowly move forward according to plan, but
in some cases the slow build can be kept through
utilizing the other three methods on secondary
or tertiary cases.
When the plan goes awry, the suspense kicks
in to ask if the characters will recover,
and how this changes the landscape.
This in turn gives us a better sense of how
our strategist deals with thinking on their
feet and responding to adversity, either through
overcoming this unforeseen matter, or by breaking
and losing the day unable to bring victory
from the jaws of defeat.
Alderamin on the Sky could have been used
as an example for all of these styles, it’s
an underrated gem that in my opinion that
deserves a second season.
I have a lot of thoughts on the show, but
for now let’s chat about the ending battle
of Alderamin.
Ikta Solork throughout the show had led his
troops to unparalleled victories - his genius
and strategies without match for almost the
entire show.
But in the final battle, between the Empire
and Aldera he meets his foil - Jean from Kioka
on loan to the army of Aldera.
Ikta creates a firewall in the forest to delay
Aldera’s pursuit of the Empire’s retreating
forces, needing to buy a week of time - and
focuses on small skirmishes to dissuade them
from putting out the blaze.
Ikta takes some losses, but his strategy remains
in tact and unvarnished throughout these moments.
There’s strong suspense here - as some of
our main characters encounter the first deaths
in their troops, the fear of Kioka’s secret
strike force playing along the outside of
the forest, and the troop disparity, 12,000
to 600.
Alderamin even incorporates the post-action
explanation when Torway’s troop defeats
the strike force in ambush to keep the tension
high.
But just when you think that the Empire is
going to succeed due to Ikta’s brilliance,
Kioka’s major breaks through the firewall
by outplaying Ikta’s expectations of what
weapons they had on hand.
As Jean’s troops march forward, Ikta is
forced to accept that his plan has fallen
apart, and we as the audience go into the
final episode on a massive cliffhanger.
All of a sudden the hard work of the previous
3 episode has gone out the window, and the
question of whether out characters will manage
to buy enough time for the retreat of not
brings suspense.
Ikta of course is able to turn the tables
with a new plan - tackled in the classic post-action
explanation - but what we learn about Ikta
here, even more impressive than his past victories,
is how he’s able to learn about his opponent
and predict their moves and expectations based
on their data - and of course his propensity
for thinking outside the box to overcome huge
manpower deficits.
Going off the rails is the best way to discover
what a character is like in crisis, and a
strong engagement tool to keep the audience
invested as we observe our characters deal
with a new set of circumstances that they
never predicted.
This isn’t to say all strategy writing fits
in these styles, and plenty of great work
mixes and matches elements of these categories
to achieve unexpected combinations - but the
vast majority can be broken down at their
core to these four outlines.
And just because something follows one of
these styles, doesn’t mean it’s good - fundamentally
the strategy itself needs to be engaging,
not just the way it’s conveyed.
Like most things, a good template is only
the beginning, it’s the implementation of
the template and the execution on the variables
that makes something interesting.
So the next time you’re watching a plan
unfold, whether it’s coming along well or
you’re bored out of your mind, you might
be able to use some of the categories I’ve
outlined here to better engage with the narrative
and consider it beyond just the plot elements.
Because who doesn’t love it when a plan
comes together.
Hope you enjoyed.
