Enlarge / I have a bad feeling about that big, red robot over there.
BELLEVUE, Washington—I have used VR systems long enough to begin laughing when people describe the medium as “magical.” At every conference, demo, and sales pitch, some starry-eyed speaker busts out the M-word a few too many times, and I make a joke about a drinking game for the word’s overuse.
Let’s be clear: I love VR. I am the kind of loon who built a “Vive pit” in my home, who forgives bulky headsets, who pretends that thick bundles of wires are perfectly acceptable things to feel dangling around your head and body while playing a video game. (Let’s not forget the time I stuck something in my pants for VR’s sake.) I love what presence and hand controls can add to an interactive experience. I love watching people freak out the first time they paint in mid-air with Tilt Brush.
But after following and reporting on years of consumer-grade VR demos and launches, I’ve been waiting for something bigger: a moment where the “magic” fades, and where VR feels normal. As if it’s just another tool or medium to control a computer system and experience a story. The term “magical” isn’t really used as a catch-all description of books, for example (unless you make posters for elementary school libraries). Rather, books’ ability to transport us elsewhere is effective because it’s seamless. Will VR ever be known for the same effect, with its own unique twists?
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Source: Ars Technica – How Wayward Sky’s theatrical principles stand above the VR fray