After reading Orion D Black’s Patreon post on D&D’s place in Actual Play this week, and Orion’s post from last week on what Actual Play is and where it shines (both incredible and thoughtful and well worth your time), I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes Party Of One tick. What makes it special, what it does well/poorly, where it fits in the AP ecosystem, all that stuff.
I think, if we’re using the TV analogy for AP, that Party Of One is pulling on a different kind of TV show than most. And I think that’s what makes the show special, and also what makes the show niche, and why it isn’t bigger, but also why it’s really, really special to me.
I think the stories we tell are really satisfying, but I don’t think they’re necessarily the draw of the show. At least, that’s where my head is at right now. Feel free to @ me if you feel differently.
I also don’t think, and this might be controversial (or at least, unusual to say) the systems are what make the show shine. Sure, it’s a great way to find new games and hear them played. I hear that a lot. But I don’t think it’s what makes the show special.
If I had to point to the thing that makes the show really truly special, I think it’s a people-focused show in a way that I’m really proud of, that sets it apart from a lot of other APs. In part because of the conversation and banter and all that, but a lot of shows hit that. Hell, 9 out of 10 APs say “the chemistry between cast” is THE reason to check out the show. (I have… a lot of thoughts on that, but that’s for another time.)
But for Party Of One, I think the 1:1 format creates an intimate experience that really deepens things and opens up a side of guests you don’t always see. I think our best episodes feel a little like you’re hearing something special, almost private, something precious shared between two people. Yes there’s a story happening, and yes it’s edited, and yes it’s a performance for you, the audience, but having listened to, and edited, hundreds of these things, I think when it really hits is when it sounds like you’re hearing something almost breathless, whether that’s happy or sad, comic or tragic.
You’re hearing two people experience something special, just for themselves, live in front of them. Two people sitting down and starting a journey, and then ending that journey, fueled only by their passion and joy and enthusiasm, all in 90 minutes. There’s a magic to that, really.
It’s one of the reasons I’ve never really considered cutting episodes up into smaller chunks, in retrospect. It feels like it’s not in service of the heart of the show, which is that Magic. And all of that means it’s a niche show, for a niche audience. And that’s okay. It can be that. But it’s also something that, when you find it, has something special to offer you. And that kicks ass.
This also gets at the episodes of the show I don’t think work as well, which are when we end up with something that, for lack of a better way to put it, sounds like an AP. The ones that are the most sort of straightforward “these people are playing a game” episodes tend to be the ones where that magic is the rarest. It’s why I struggle when people approach the show with a gameplay-first mentality, because I think it undercuts where the heart of the show is.
For as deeply annoyed as I get when people ask me to “interview” them on the show (and I think often when someone asks using that language, it comes from a place of not knowing or giving a shit who I am, hence my annoyance), I think the bones of the show, and certainly the influences I’d point to for the show, are interview-focused because it’s where we shine. I often say we’re the Fresh Air of Actual Play Podcasts, and I stand by that.
I dunno. It’s a good show. You should listen to it.
I think you’ve put into words what I’ve tried to describe to friends when I recommend the show. I wonder if there is some element to Po1 that invites curiosity about “play” from a listener in a way that differentiates it from large cast APs. I completely understand being annoyed by requests for interviews (and you’re probably right to assume it comes from a place of not actually knowing what it is that you do), but I think that a case can be made for Po1 as a form of games journalism. The archive of the show is a corpus on how games are played, how individuals negotiate their own philosophy of play while performing for each other and an audience, and most pertinent to the one-on-one nature if the show, it’s a collection of emotionally resonant moments that would have otherwise been private and ephemeral. I don’t know if the narratives and systems take a backseat to all that – I suspect there’s a degree where the strongest episodes hit the mark on all three points of the emo-nar-sys triangle, but personally, it’s the vibe of an episode that sits with me, long after the details of the story and system mechanics fade away.