Former Naughty Dog Artist Says Shorter Games Feel More Appealing Than Massive Open-World Epics

The biggest games in the industry are often sold on scale. Larger worlds, longer campaigns, denser cities, more systems, more activities, and years of development have become familiar markers of a major blockbuster release. Yet for Matt Radford, a former Naughty Dog visual effects artist who contributed to The Last of Us and Uncharted 4, that scale can also make a game feel daunting before a player has even started it.

Speaking with Kiwi Talkz, Radford said he is increasingly drawn to compact, focused experiences instead of the enormous open-world releases represented by Grand Theft Auto 6 and the next The Elder Scrolls. His point was not that these projects should not exist, nor that they cannot be excellent. Rather, he described a personal preference shaped by adulthood, limited free time, and an appetite for games that can deliver a complete, memorable experience without demanding dozens upon dozens of hours.

Radford, now 38 and running his own studio, 5th Corner, said the prospect of a huge game can be intimidating. For him, a shorter title with a clear focus and a satisfying finish has become more exciting than committing to an adventure that may stretch beyond 50 hours.

A changing relationship with game length

The discussion touches on a familiar issue for many players: the difference between wanting to play a major game and realistically having the time to see it through. A 50-hour runtime is not automatically a problem, particularly for people who enjoy spending months in one world. But it can create a substantial barrier for players juggling work, families, studies, social commitments, or simply a growing list of games they would like to experience.

For useful background on this topic, read GTA 6 Fan in Brazil Says a Polite Poster Request Reached Rockstar.

In that context, shorter games offer a different kind of value. A campaign that can be completed over a weekend, or gradually across a couple of weeks, may be easier to begin because the finish line feels visible. Players can still receive a polished story, distinctive mechanics, and strong production values without needing to turn one game into a long-term commitment.

Radford used Naughty Dog's own work as an example of how perceptions of length can shift. He said even The Last of Us Part II felt very long to him, while he has a particular affection for the earlier Uncharted games, whose campaigns commonly landed in the six-to-eight-hour range. Those games were designed around forward momentum: set pieces, traversal, combat encounters, character scenes, and a steady march toward a conclusion.

That does not mean a shorter game is inherently better designed. Length alone says little about pacing or quality. A brief game can feel rushed, while a very long one can justify every hour through variety and compelling systems. But Radford's comments highlight a useful distinction: a focused experience is often built around leaving players wanting more, while a sprawling one must continually earn the player's attention over a far longer period.

Scale is not the same as success

Modern blockbuster development has often encouraged the idea that bigger games are automatically more valuable. Massive maps, sprawling side content, expansive customization, and lengthy post-launch plans can make a game look substantial in trailers and on store pages. They can also give audiences a sense that they are receiving more for their money.

However, a game's value is not always measured by the number of hours displayed on a save file. A concise adventure can stay with a player because of one memorable mechanic, a tightly constructed narrative, a striking visual identity, or an ending that arrives at precisely the right time. Similarly, a larger game is at its best when its scale serves an idea rather than functioning as the idea itself.

There is room in the medium for both approaches. Players who want to get lost in a simulated city, build a character over a lengthy quest line, or explore every corner of a fantasy world have every reason to be excited by projects such as Grand Theft Auto 6 and the next The Elder Scrolls. At the same time, there is a sizable audience looking for games that respect a more limited schedule without feeling slight.

Radford's perspective is especially notable because it comes from someone who worked within a studio known for cinematic, technically ambitious releases. Naughty Dog games have often occupied a middle ground between compact action adventures and the gigantic open worlds that dominate parts of the AAA market. The studio's titles are typically heavily authored, with deliberate pacing and a strong emphasis on presentation, even when their stories become more expansive.

The financial pressure behind enormous games

Radford also connected the preference for shorter projects to the escalating cost of making games. The biggest AAA productions can require budgets in excess of $200 million or $300 million, he noted. Those figures illustrate why a single release can carry immense commercial expectations. When so much money, time, technology, and staffing are tied to one game, a disappointing launch can affect not only a studio but also the broader companies supporting it.

A tighter game is not automatically cheap to make. High-end art, animation, performance capture, voice acting, visual effects, accessibility, testing, and platform optimization all require substantial resources. Still, a project designed with a narrower scope can potentially limit some of the costs associated with building an enormous world packed with content.

That possibility matters because development budgets influence creative decisions. When a game must earn back a vast investment, publishers may feel pressure to pursue the broadest possible audience, maximize playtime, include familiar systems, or avoid concepts perceived as risky. Smaller and more focused projects can sometimes create space for a sharper creative identity, even if they still need to meet demanding commercial targets.

The industry does not need one universal model. Large-scale productions can push technology forward, employ huge teams, and create social moments that reach far beyond dedicated gaming communities. Meanwhile, shorter projects can offer a more sustainable alternative for studios and a more approachable format for players. A healthy games business needs room for both the spectacular blockbuster and the compact, carefully made adventure.

Why Grand Theft Auto 6 still matters

Despite finding games of that magnitude intimidating on a personal level, Radford was clear that he expects Grand Theft Auto 6 to be impressive. He also stressed that the wider industry has reason to want it to succeed. A major failure from a project with such extraordinary expectations would not be a positive sign for the business or for the people who make games.

"GTA 6 is gonna be awesome, I'm sure," Radford said, while arguing that a failure would be damaging for the industry.

That distinction is important. The conversation is not really a call to abandon ambitious games. It is a request for greater variety in what gets celebrated and funded. A player can be curious about the next massive open-world landmark while also wishing for more complete games that fit comfortably into a busy month.

Grand Theft Auto 6 carries a particularly unusual level of attention because of the legacy of its predecessor and the scale associated with Rockstar's work. Its success will be watched as a major cultural and commercial event. But no single blockbuster can solve the challenges facing development, and no single game length can satisfy every audience.

Focused games can create their own excitement

There is a particular pleasure in beginning a game with confidence that it can be finished. It changes how players approach the experience. Instead of worrying about an expanding checklist, they can follow the central design, engage with its best ideas, and reach a conclusion before momentum fades. This is especially valuable for narrative games, action adventures, puzzle titles, and experimental projects built around a specific concept.

Shorter games can also make recommendation culture more vibrant. It is easier to tell a friend to spend one or two evenings with a game than to suggest a 100-hour undertaking. That accessibility can help unusual titles find audiences, and it gives players a way to explore genres outside their usual habits without making an overwhelming commitment.

Of course, a shorter runtime should never become an excuse for unfinished design or thin content. The goal is not simply fewer hours; it is intentional scope. A satisfying compact game should feel complete because its creators understood what it needed to be and what it did not need to include.

Radford's comments ultimately land on a straightforward but increasingly relevant idea: more hours do not necessarily mean more enjoyment. As AAA budgets rise and player time becomes more precious, focused games may have an opportunity to stand out precisely because they make a clear promise and keep it. The next generation of giant open worlds will continue to command attention, but there is plenty of reason to hope the industry also keeps making room for adventures that know when to end.