Two years ago, my boyfriend and I were about to embark on the six hour plane ride from Los Angeles back to New York City after an enjoyable and exhausting vacation in California. Since we had to go to LA separately due to our own personal obligations before the trip, this would be our first ever flight together as a couple. I always like to download at least five movies before going up in case I don’t like what the airplane offers, so I checked in with him with some options that I thought he would like. Josh is a huge horror movie lover, so I was pretty sure that he would go with something scary. His answer surprised me.
“Really?” I asked. “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile? The Shawn Mendes crocodile film?”
“Oh c’mon, like you aren’t also curious.”
Admittedly, I was. However, I was also worried about feeling trapped with Lyle if the movie was bad. It was then when I came up with an idea.
“Alright, so let’s play bingo boards then while we watch.”
“Bingo boards?” Josh looked at me, slightly confused. “How so?”
Since neither of us knew anything about the movie or any lore behind Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile, I suggested it might be fun to make wild predictions about fun things that could happen in the movie. We’d then take those predictions, put them on bingo boards, and then see how many of them became true. Josh agreed, and we ended up having so much fun that we played the game throughout the entire plane ride. In case you were wondering, the five squares that made BINGO for this movie were “Talent Show”, “Joke About Being Eaten”, “Disproportionately Very Tragic Backstory”, “Song Sung While Doing Chores”, and (my favorite one) “Car Chase”. Josh and I still play that game for new movies to this day.
Ian Bogost’s “Play Anything: The Pleasure of Limits, the Uses of Boredom, and the Secret of Games” reminded me a lot of this game. The floor jumping game and our movie bingo are both born from creating enjoyment from limitations and rules. To quote Bogost, “To treat things with respect and intrigue, we don’t need to understand their motivations and inner lives – whatever knowing the inner life of a tangelo or a floor tile would mean. We just need to pay enough attention to discover what they do and how they work – to discover what they obviously and truly are-and then to make use of them in gratifyingly novel ways” (Bogost 9). In my above example, a lot of the fun of my bingo game with my boyfriend is due to us recognizing that a film like, Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile is a genre piece that we can make predictions on and be amused when we get the plot correct and delighted when we’re surprised. We noticed that obvious and decided to fortify it with rules to make play. I’ve noticed a similar pattern when DM-ing for my campaign in “Dungeons and Dragons”. Oftentimes, my group has a lot more fun when there’s a set structure that allows them to figure out how to solve problems rather than if I just nebulously set them loose on a town. Specificity, structure, and commitment to the bit are what makes our adventures fun and lifelike!

