What's the deal with menu screens?

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Oh, is he going to write an entire blog just talking about Main menus? Yes, yes I am; because the art of the menu screen goes so often unsung and unloved in the grand tapestry of game creation. I mean, who even stops to think about what the menu that stands between you and the gameplay actually looks and feels like? Despite the fact it is most usually the first thing that you'll see everytime you load the game and it should be the last thing too, but I'm pretty sure there's not a living person on this planet that doesn't skip past the 'exit to menu' option whenever they're playing a game. When I want out, I'm getting out; ain't nobody getting in the way of me and the desktop! Oh, and I'm talking pure visuals here; not about the options provided within those menus. As cool as being able to edit all the graphical options I want is; I don't care that much.

I've actually had this topic bouncing around in my head ever since I played Prototype 2 back in the day. For anyone who has played that game, they'll probably know exactly why that game's menu stood out to me. The menu is actually very simple the first time you log in, just your bare basic options; it in the proceeding visits where the menu gets interesting. Whenever you log into the game the next time around, the background of the menu screen will be a shot of the ambient world going about relative to where you last were when you logged out. Which could mean you'll see citizens going about their day in the non-violent city, or maybe a war between infected monsters and military helicopters firing rockets in the war-torn part of the city, depending on where you quite out last time. The really interesting part, however, comes when you press 'continue'. Then that very same scene in the background pans back a little to reveal the player character, waiting there, and the game immediately starts. That's right, the menu screen loads you into the gameplay before you've even started; how cool is that? That always stuck with me and I think back about it's wizardry all these years later, even if my tastes in cool visuals and presentation have 'matured' in the time since.

On it's face, The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt has a very straightforward, if intensely atmospheric and cinematic, main menu. It's just Geralt of Rivia meditating in a field during the events directly before the game picks off, about to mount the search for Yennefer. It's direct, it bring you into the moment and world immediately and it allows us to see CDPR's lovingly rendered Geralt model, which deserves showing off. But when you get the DLC, the menu changes accordingly. Hearts of Stone has Geralt meditating just outside the grounds of the Von Everec estate, a location intensely linked to the narrative of that expansion. But my favourite, Blood and Wine, has Geralt meditating on the outskirts of Toussaint outside of a dilapidated farm-house within which a shadow of a woman can be seen fleeting in and out of view, softly singing 'Lullaby of woes'. A reference to the best Witcher 3 advertisement featuring the very same concept; hauntingly marvellous and memorable.

For such an evocative franchise, the various games of FromSoftware's Souls series menus are surprisingly tame and to-the-point. Typically they're formatted exactly the same to one another, with Bloodborne perhaps being the loudest, featuring the visage of 'The Hunter' in it's background. What I think stands out as memorable for the Souls games is actually the use of music employed in their, otherwise stark, menu displays. Any familiarity with the franchise will impart that music has something of an important storytelling role in this franchise, and the creators grew more synergistic with their music as another arm of the narrative as their craft evolved. Still, Dark Souls 1's main menu theme is perhaps my favourite in it's iconic peacefulness. Utilising everything from harmonising choirs to ringing bells and harps, it sounds like the relief-stricken notes you'd expect from Resident Evil's safe zones. It's almost deceptively peaceful given the relentless nature of the game it vanguards, but this is intentionally so as it represents the peace before the storm of enduring the depressive and decomposing world of Dark Souls once again. 

Spec Ops The Line is a famous example from a game that I haven't played myself, but have heard more than enough about over the years. The way that Spec Ops' menu works is simple, you'll overlook a sniper perched over the desert tomb of the game's setting and he'll be your stop-in point throughout the process of the game. As you return the Sniper will change his routine, maybe he'll go back in for the night, or take out his binoculars to go sight-seeing during the day, but you'll remain at the same vantage looking over the same land everytime you log in. Later on in the game you'll see the towers in the background start to catch aflame, matching the progression of the story and then, suddenly, you'll find the sniper's dead body being picked on by crows. The final shot is a washed out scene of the same perch, a fallen and tattered American flag and the desiccated husks of skyscrapers behind that. A mirror to the moral and emotional degradation of the game behind the menu screen.

Going back to something a bit more simple, the Main Menu for Metal Gear Solid 3 Snake Eater is actually very straightforward but oddly featured, in a manner fitting Kojima's design style. On it's face it's just a silhouette of Naked Snake performing one of signature CQC takedown throwns on an enemy solider in slow motion as a camo print rolls like a filter over the scene. But for some utterly inane reason, the analog sticks on your controller can be fiddled around with in order to change the colour of the camo pattern or the type of camo being scrolled. It's an utterly bizarre functionality that absolutely didn't need to be considered and ultimately adds nothing to the core game itself, but that's just the way that the big man makes his games. He and his team pursue any odd fancy they think of and if they can make it, it typically stays in the final product! 

And finally, the game which made me revisit this idea I had so very long ago; there is the Persona 5 menu screen. (Yes, I've finally gotten my hands on the game after falling for it seven years ago. Thank you ATLUS for torturing me.) For a game dripping in style and passion, it only makes sense for the menu screen to be slick and jazzy, and of course it absolutely is. We see the Phantom Thieves dotted around the streets of Tokyo in their three-scale white, red and black colour schemes, all posing like this is a Jojo poster. As you flitter between options, you'll dart around to different perch's across the city square and the Thieves will relocate appropriately. It's dynamic as well, meaning that whichever option you approach a certain option from (above or below) the animation of the Thieves relocating dynamically changes; a simple switch of shoulder will become a full cartwheel. Now that is the definition of putting way too much effort into a aesthetic, but I love the overachieving all the same.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with going the bare basic route for a menu screen that really effects nothing of the game's overall experience; but at the same time, wouldn't you want to go that extra step to put the most amount of effort in everything you can? With all the work that goes into nailing the intricacies of gameplay design and visual flair, what's wrong with doing something a bit more interesting and pretty with your menu designs? Even if it's ultimately insignificant, people do come away thinking about the menus whether they expect to or not; and I consider menu reveals for new games to be their own kind of special. Isn't it that last special mark of a masterpiece to ensure that every last inch of the product sparkles to it's utmost? At least that's the way I look at menus, don't know how you see it...