GDC 2023 – Zero Punctuation

Thanks to everyone making a big silly fuss over that global planet-scarring plague thing I hadn’t done a convention since E3 in 2019, but now COVID is completely over or at least we all collectively decided that the deaths weren’t so bad weighed against how bored we were of hearing about it, Cons are back on. Although in this case not without having to stand in line for two hours to get the vaccine card checked. GDC, I feel like you’re forgetting about the essential con experience – members of the press like me being able to flash a badge and walk straight past all the queues, floating a little air biscuit as I go. Well, just so you know, once I finally got in I went straight to the media lounge and ate seven complementary bagels, so I win.

In contrast to E3, which is consumer-focussed and places a big emphasis on wowing random dumbos, GDC is more of an industry event, so instead of having to queue up outside entire fucking Halloween haunted houses erected on the show floor so you can play ten minutes of the new Destiny expansion while being lit like the main stage at a strip club, there’s instead five hundred booths full of very earnest people wanting to talk about their indie games. And five hundred more booths of companies pushing some new tech or development tools trying to convince some of the very earnest people in the first group to make a hot app for their new force feedback buttock jigglers.

Frankly, though, we only got to the show floor on our last day, before that it was all one demo showcase after another. But because they were lower profile games these tended be to smaller, intimate experiences where you’re more likely to see an actually interesting game and the devs really wanna win you over. Hence the inevitable bowl of snacks. Which at first I would turn down out of politeness, but by day three I’d learned to always take at least one thing ‘cos then when 2pm rolls around you can convince yourself you’ve actually had lunch.

I can certainly recommend the experience if you’re really really interested in seeing lots of different hotel rooms. Maybe not if you don’t like sprinting back and forth across downtown San Francisco to meet appointments at different hotels. Fortunately San Francisco said “Oh you poor harassed journalists, here’s some lovely sunny weather to ease your burden.” On the first day. On the second day it pissed down so Nick the editor was forced to call an Uber to cross three blocks and I was subsequently forced to call him a great big sook. You’re a bipolar city, aren’t you, San Francisco. “Why d’you say that?? D’you wanna fight?! I’m sorry I didn’t mean that, I love you. Would you like some homeless person’s excrement?” No thank you, San Francisco.