Multipliers a poppin’: What makes a multiplier based game good or STR8 ASS?
By Rick Brewster
Allow me to start us off on the wrong foot with a controversial opinion. I hate Star Wars and Ghostbusters. I think both games are approximately a 1.5 out of 10 on the fun scale. Dump me in a dive bar with one or both of those, and even as a pinball addict, I still might prefer to stare at the game in attract mode while guzzling Hamm’s tall boys at the bar rather than dump a dollar or two in.
Here’s the thing, I love Game of Thrones, Batman 66, and Guardians. You know, the other moderns that rely heavily on multipliers beyond your basic double-scoring awards. You might be saying gee, Rick, what gives, man? GoT and GB are kinda similar, dude? Even down to that random, pop bumper-driven mystery award mechanism that actually makes a ton of sense for a mystery award? Nah. Give me my guaranteed add-a-ball at a scoop for my first mystery award - the exact opposite of a mystery. But, I digress. We’re talking about multipliers today.
Yes, Thrones and ‘busters are kinda similar. (editor’s note: plz NEVER refer to GB as “busters” ever again.) So, what’s the difference? Starting this piece, I really didn’t know. What did I know? I knew I needed to plumb the depths of my psyche to discover the why behind the physical pain I feel dumping quarters into Ghostbusters. These multiplier-fest games seem to be polarizing to the pinball populace, and with no real rhyme or reason to note. So, what makes a good multiplier-heavy game, and what makes them suck?
OK RICK, what is a multiplier-based pinball game?
For the purposes of this article, a multiplier-based pinball game features multipliers that go beyond a basic double scoring feature. Jurassic Park with 2x scoring does not qualify. Star Wars going up to 40x does. (Editor’s note: I already can tell I’m gonna start to be pissed about this star wars hate. )
When a multiplier-based game works, it rules.
The case for multiplier-fests: It’s fucking fun to score a ton of points at once. Hook up a 3x (or more) playfield multiplier and two modes into a multiball on Game of Thrones, and you can be looking at a 10 digit score on the other side. Real quick. Get to 20 or 40x on Star Wars? And then start that ridiculous, godforsaken video mode? Big money, baby. No whammies. Hitting a shot worth hundreds of millions (even better if it coincides with a nice, loud replay screech) gives you that boss-of-the-arcade feeling that definitely isn’t a real thing, but it doesn’t matter. You’re feeling like royalty until you drain.
Multipliers can add a sense of urgency to your play and take you out of your zen state. Even the most stoic, unflappable players get jumpy when a big multiplier is active and it’s burning off quick. Your heart starts beating quicker. Your palms get sweatier and mom’s spaghettier in a hurry. Saint Bowen of Assisi explains why it can absolutely rule in one of his tutorials: When a game pulls you out of how you’re playing it by presenting big scoring opportunities and says nuh-uh, you’re gonna play the game MY way now, it’s a sign of a good game. Multipliers can absolutely fit that criteria, and significantly up the ante in whatever setting you play in. OK, if Bowen is in, I’m in.
Do we really want to reward rule followers THIS much?
The case against multiplier-fests: A game can become a case of do the thing, or don’t. In a four player group of Ghostbusters, you better start a Storage Facility multiball with 6x playfield running, or a We Came We Saw at 6x (ideally both). If you blow your multiplier, you’re probably screwed. Have fun loopin’ supers after for 6 million a shot. Queue up the ultra-insulting now THAT’s a big score callout.
It also becomes highly penalizing for players that may not be familiar with multiplier rules of a given game. A lot of folks out there have excellent playing abilities - but if they’re not comboing into supers on Guardians and Kiss, or doing whatever the fuck you have to do to effectively move multipliers around on Star Wars, their chances of winning become pretty slim.
Yes, rules are still important — but not at the cost of a good game.
Look, no one is giving lame-ass players a pass for not learning rules. I’m a ruleset enthusiast, (editor’s note: what an admission!) and absolutely love deep-cut strategies. Nothing better than finding some quirky ways to score points in a game. But when you lock a player out of rewarding features if they don’t do exactly the right thing in the right order, your game appeal drops. This is what makes games like Godzilla so good - you can play it a ton of different ways, and if you play well, you will be rewarded appropriately. But, if you don’t take the time to set up a mode or two and a multiball on GoT, or building up your Stark value and combos at the center ramp and cashing out BIGTIME with some multipliers ripping, you’re kinda locked out of doing anything substantial.
You’re almost in jail when you hit the start button. (Heck, you could even make a case for this at the start of Godzilla, requiring two ramp shots and a scoop to get going. But once you’re past that, you’re chilllllllling.) When a modern game requires a player to do the thing - effectively requiring a pretty decent amount of game knowledge to have a chance at playing the game, well, decently - that is not a great game for a good chunk of players. Multiplier-fests fit this criteria.
In the end, as with everything, it’s sort of up to taste.
So - why are some good, and why are some terrible? There’s a factor present here I haven’t addressed - and it’s your personal, visceral feelings toward a given game. Multiplier-heavy games are more polarizing than most, regardless of which direction you lean. On Ghostbusters, I don’t like the dual double inlanes, the enormous flipper gap, the PKE ramp that is unhittable on the premium/LE, those stupid, pointless, good-for-nothing magnets around the slings… I could go on. Now, turn the whole game into taking 6x playfield into a multiball or bust? I hate it even more. Contrast that to Guardians - setting a shot multiplier on Groot’s chin, starting Rampage double scoring, and comboing into a super jackpot during Cherry Bomb multiball for a few hundred million? Now you’re talking. What’s the difference? Honestly, not much — on paper.
Maybe, in the end, multiplier-fests are like anything else in life: a reflection of the self. When you stare into the multiplier, the multiplier stares back at you. Who can say? At the least, they seem to be enough to tip the scales into whichever direction you’re already leaning. I can only hope you’re less of a hater than I am. Embrace and multiply.
