Who Needs Credits?

Recently, there’s been another heated debate on the internet about the rules that certain game companies use to decide whether to include or exclude employees from the credits of their games. And this is indeed a fascinating topic!

Games weren’t the first to come up with credits. Movies come to mind much earlier. However, even in films, credits have undergone massive changes. I remember absolutely hating the credits in Soviet children’s films, especially when they were placed at the beginning of the movie. You’d sit down in front of the TV, all ready to enjoy your favorite film—perhaps one you’d been waiting for all week (this was before you could just hop onto Netflix and watch anything). And then you’re hit with “film director,” “cinematographer,” “director”… I couldn’t care less! I wanted to watch the movie, not read their names!

That said, I have to admit that sometimes creators managed to make this part interesting. In some films, they would show the actor in their role alongside how they looked in real life. That, I loved to watch—it didn’t make me want to switch off. Off the top of my head, I can recall this approach being used in New Year’s Adventures of Masha and Vitia and the later Don Cesar de Bazan. In those films, the actors in their everyday appearance looked nothing like their characters on screen.

And then there was Jackie Chan (this was during the era of video rental shops since Soviet TV didn’t show his movies), who started including bloopers in his credits. Everyone was waiting for those (don’t turn it off yet, let’s watch the bloopers!).

However, credits themselves, as far as I can tell, never really mattered to anyone except the creators. And even for them, it’s more about personal pride: “Look, see my name there in tiny print!”

In the case of American films, it’s gotten downright ridiculous. End credits now consist of thousands of names, stretching on for ten minutes, with a couple of music artists cashing in on the soundtrack under the “music in the credits” category. But let’s be honest—has anyone ever actually read them? Especially when they start listing every single person involved: who brought the coffee, who ordered toilet paper for the trailers, and who sat in the bushes to keep sneaky onlookers from stealing props as souvenirs.

And then they came up with something even worse—post-credits scenes. You finish watching the movie, get up to leave, and then find out they tacked on a 30-second secret scene after ten minutes of tedious scrolling. And you missed it because you left. Meanwhile, John, who fell asleep and woke up only when the lights came on, got to see it. But not you, because you left. That stings!

I can be proud—my name appears in the credits of several games. Although, not in all the
ones I’ve worked on. For example, here’s a shot from Master of Orion

In games, credits have followed the same path—long, usually unnecessary for most people. Often, you finish the main storyline, and then a never-ending scroll of names starts playing to heroic music. It’s fine if you can press a button to skip it, but some crafty developers won’t let you until the credits finish. The particularly cruel ones even give you an achievement for sitting through the entire thing, much like secret post-credit scenes in movies. So you sit there for ten minutes, not turning off your computer, just to earn that achievement.

I feel like credits have become more of a tradition at this point, as well as an ego boost for those involved—nothing more. On Russian TV, for instance, end credits in many films are either skipped altogether or sped up to flash by in just a few seconds, making it impossible to read a single name. It seems like a legal requirement to show them, but clever broadcasters found a way to save time and sell that space to advertisers instead.

In games…

Some companies come up with rules to determine whether you make it into the credits. For example, if you spent less than 25% of your time on the game, you’re left out. But even 20% is a significant portion of your time and life with the company. Still, not enough to “deserve” a mention.

Or, if someone worked in multiple roles, the credits might only list one to avoid “stretching things out.” For instance, in the screenshot above, they listed my position rather than the roles I actually performed on the project, even though I wore multiple hats. On the other hand, some companies don’t hesitate to mention someone multiple times, further inflating the “scroll of names.”

Then there are long-running multiplayer projects that go on for years, with many people working on them over time—like World of Tanks from Wargaming. The game has been around for over a decade, with entire teams replaced during that time. At some point, they decided not to show credits at all. And where would they put them anyway? Players hop into the game for a quick battle or two during their lunch break and then get back to work. Watching credits is the last thing on their minds after years of playing.

Other approaches exist too. In one project, we decided not to list team members by name but instead credit departments with a single line. Why we did that, I don’t even remember the details. Now, I can walk around claiming my name is hidden behind that line. But really, what’s the point?

Then there’s the issue of criteria… Often, even people who didn’t directly work on the game end up in the credits. For example, company administrators. These folks don’t develop games but keep everything running smoothly, ensuring that everyone else can do their jobs effectively. In a sense, they’re part of the process too.

Honestly, I see credits as a relic, a vestige we could easily do without. If you want to brag about participating in a project, nothing stops you from doing so—and you don’t need credits for that (especially when your grandmother, who’s afraid of touching a computer, wouldn’t even know how to see them).

What do you think about this?

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