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Hall 5 of 6  /  2005–2011

The Flash Hall

For a few years, the most popular games in the world were made by one person in a bedroom and shared with a link. This hall is about the plugin that made that possible, the look it gave us, and the people who made it matter.

A glowing, abstract still in the colours of the Flash Era era
Flash Era, 2005–2011

Read this first. Everything here is original writing. There are no screenshots, sprites, logos or box art from real games, and facts are stated in general terms. How we work.

The glass

The runtime at the heart of this era played animation made of vectors: shapes described by curves and fills, not by grids of dots. That meant a drawing could be scaled to any size without turning to blocks, a file could be tiny because a curve is a handful of numbers, and a designer could draw with a pen tool and see the result move. The tools were aimed at animators and designers, and the games that came out of them looked like it.

The look was glossy. A highlight on the upper half of a button, a soft shadow beneath, a gradient that implied a curved surface, a reflection on the floor. The style came from interface design and advertising of the time, and it sold the idea that a web page could feel like a physical object. Glossy buttons said: press me, I am real. It also marked the web’s coming of age as a place that could afford to look polished.

Physics as the toy

Computers had become fast enough that small physics engines could run in a browser. A stack of boxes could fall, a ball could roll down a ramp, a rope could swing. The interest was in watching things behave. A whole sub-genre grew from the idea that the player draws or places something and then watches physics decide the result. Setting up a clever machine and releasing it was a joy even when it failed.

Many of these games were made by tiny teams sharing code on forums. A well-made physics library, passed around freely, powered hundreds of different titles. The community habit of borrowing a base and adding an idea gave the era its rich, restless variety, and produced a rapid run of experiments where a good concept could spread in days.

Sponsors and preloaders

The business of the era was sponsorship. A developer built a game, a sponsor paid to put its logo on the loading screen and a link on the menu, and the game was released to portals everywhere with the sponsor’s name attached. The preloader, the screen shown while the file downloaded, became a billboard and a ritual: a bar fills, a logo appears, a button says play. If the bar was good, you stayed. Many creators spent as much care on it as on the game, and some of the finest small animations of the decade lived there. Eight of them have been reimagined, originally, in our loading-bar wing.

Sound and music

Because the runtime could play compressed audio, games came with music that sounded like music, not chip tunes. Loop-based electronic scores, jangly guitar, orchestral sketches. Developers shared sound effects freely, and the same pop and chime turned up in dozens of games, which gave the era a common soundscape. Hearing a familiar effect in a new game felt like meeting a friend in an unexpected place.

The input

The mouse remained king, and the click and the drag were the main verbs. But the best games of the period were more varied than the controls suggested. Point to aim and click to throw. Drag to pull back a slingshot. Click to place, click to remove, click to launch. Games that used only the mouse were playable by anyone, and anyone often played them.

The keyboard added its usual pair of direction keys and a space bar. A small but important convention emerged: arrows or WASD to move, a key for the jump, a key for the action, and a mute button somewhere on screen. The mute button was a small act of respect to people at work.

Touch arrived from a side door. Phones with touch screens grew popular during this period, and a game that had been built for a mouse needed some thought to work on them. The runtime itself was not supported on the most popular phone, and that single fact reshaped the next decade of design. Developers who had spent years refining mouse-driven ideas looked for a new home, and found one in the one-tap games that follow in the next hall.

Casual by design

A new word started to appear in the industry: casual. It meant short sessions, simple rules, forgiving difficulty and nothing to learn first. Casual games brought in people who did not think of themselves as gamers, and many of the most successful were match-three puzzles, hidden-object scenes and simple time-management games. They were a business before they were a style, but they had a style too: bright, rounded, friendly.

The room

The room was a browser tab. Anyone with a connection could open a page and play instantly, with no install and no account, and the games were free. Offices, schools and libraries had them. Students ran games in the corner of the screen during lectures and gave each other links the way earlier generations passed notes.

Portals did the work of the arcade. Rows of thumbnails, star ratings, plays counted in the millions. A game could go from unknown to everywhere in a weekend, because a link was the whole delivery system. The leaderboard was often a simple table of names and numbers, and the comment section was a village square with all that implies.

Creators were the heart of the scene. Someone would learn the tools in the evenings, make a game in a month, upload it, and wake up to a million plays and a hundred messages. Some became full-time developers. Others went back to their jobs with a story. Many early professional studios in the independent scene started in exactly this way. It was a golden age of the amateur in the original sense of the word: someone who does it for love.

And then there were the lost things. Many of the games were bound to a single plugin, hosted on a portal that has since closed, and stored in file formats that most software no longer opens. A large share of the creative output of the era almost vanished. We want to be plain about who saved it: volunteers, archivists and engineers who collected, catalogued and built emulators so that those games can still run. The wing on loading screens links to their work, and we host none of the original games. Everything on Eracade is our own.

Three design ideas we borrowed

  1. Make the toy feel good first

    Tilt Orchard lets you tip the whole board and watch every piece slide. That moment, before any rules apply, is delightful on its own. Match-and-slide games of this period succeeded because the first thirty seconds were pure sensation. The scoring, the cascades and the frost can come later; the toy has to be a toy.

    Tilt Orchard, 2008 Play Tilt Orchard

  2. Let the environment take a turn

    In Crosswind Crags, the wind and gravity change every turn, and floating plates ricochet shots. The era loved games where the world was a participant, not a backdrop. When a variable changes, the player has to read the situation again, and a duel stays fresh for fifty rounds.

    Crosswind Crags, 2008 Play Crosswind Crags

  3. Draw, then watch

    Ink Courier asks you to draw ramps and then press GO. That moment, when the physics takes over and your plan succeeds or collapses, is the era in a sentence. Limiting the ink makes every line a decision, and letting the ink dry changes how it behaves, so the pen itself becomes a puzzle.

    Ink Courier, 2008 Play Ink Courier

Games from this era on Eracade

Browse every Flash Era game.

What ended the era

The end was gradual, then abrupt. Phones and tablets did not run the plugin, and the people who made the most popular phones argued, publicly and persuasively, that the web should move to open standards. The standards caught up: the browser gained a drawing surface, faster scripting and audio of its own. By the middle of the next decade the major browsers had stopped supporting the plugin, and the company that maintained it formally ended support at the close of 2020.

What was lost was an authoring environment where a designer could draw, animate and script in a single window. What was gained was a web that works the same on any device without installing anything. Both statements are true. This is why the question of preserving the games matters so much, and why we mention the projects doing it with such affection. If you made something in this era, you changed the medium. Thank you.

Further reading

Outside links are chosen for being stable, general and free to read. We link; we do not copy.

Stamp this hall

If you have read this far, take a stamp for your Passport. It is saved in this browser only, next to your game stamps, and nothing is sent anywhere.

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