In the high-stakes landscape of the North European games industry, few names command as much respect for strategic IP development as Christian Fonnesbech. As the former head of IP development at Nordisk Film Games and the founder of Copenhagen-based consultancy Leverage, Fonnesbech has spent years operating in the shadow of the industry’s biggest blockbusters. While non-disclosure agreements shroud his specific contributions to titles like Dead Island, Metro, Conan Exiles, and the Dark Pictures Anthology, his diagnostic work on why franchises succeed—and why they stumble—has become a cornerstone of his professional philosophy.
At the heart of his analysis lies a provocative, perhaps controversial, assertion: when it comes to the lifeblood of a video game franchise, studios are frequently committing a fatal error by swapping out their main characters in sequels.
The Anchors of Emotion: Why Characters Matter More Than Worlds
For Fonnesbech, the intellectual property (IP) of a game is not merely a collection of assets or a digital landscape; it is a promise made to the player. While gameplay mechanics and world-building are essential, they are not the primary drivers of long-term retention or brand loyalty.
"Gameplay is a huge part of every franchise, and the world-building is vital, but the character is the easiest thing to own in a court of law," Fonnesbech explains. "It’s where people connect emotionally. It is a massive part of the expectations we have when returning to a franchise. If you mess with that, you do so at your own peril."
This perspective challenges the common industry narrative that favors constant innovation. Fonnesbech argues that because the bar for creating a hit is so high, developers often underestimate the sheer difficulty of establishing an emotional bond with millions of players. To "reboot" or swap a protagonist is to gamble with the "accumulated time" that players have invested in a digital persona.
A Chronology of Risk: From Success to Fragmentation
The history of game development is littered with studios that attempted to pivot away from their established icons. Fonnesbech points to a few distinct eras of franchise management:
- The Foundational Era (1970s–1990s): Character-driven icons like Mario and Sonic defined the medium, proving that a consistent face was synonymous with a brand.
- The Expansion Era (2000s–2010s): Studios began testing the waters of world-building over individual protagonists, with series like Final Fantasy proving that an IP could survive without a recurring hero, provided the "brand" of the game remained consistent.
- The Modern Pivot (2020s–Present): We are currently witnessing a trend of legacy sequels and spin-offs—such as Hades 2, Control Resonant, and the upcoming Witcher 4—which are actively replacing or pivoting away from their original leads.
Fonnesbech warns that while some of these games achieve critical acclaim, they may be diluting the long-term business value of their intellectual property.
Supporting Data: The Case of Hades and Control
To illustrate his point, Fonnesbech breaks down the business versus artistic dichotomy using recent high-profile examples.
The Hades 2 Paradox
Supergiant Games’ Hades 2 is a commercial and critical triumph. However, Fonnesbech notes a subtle shift in the franchise’s core identity. The first game was a distinct narrative about a son rebelling against his father—a journey of leaving home. Hades 2 follows Melinoë in a story about finding home.
"Artistically, I think it was a brilliant choice," Fonnesbech admits. "Business-wise, I’m not so sure. In the first game, they hit every target on gameplay, character, and world. Now, we are a little unsure what Hades is actually about. We’ve changed the emotional hook."
The Control and God of War Dilemmas
The upcoming Control Resonant shifts focus from the original protagonist, Jesse Faden, to her brother, Dylan. Fonnesbech poses a rhetorical question to highlight the risk: "What would Tomb Raider look like today if game two had been about Lara’s brother?"
Similarly, the God of War series, which Fonnesbech credits with a "brilliant" reinvention by adding Atreus to the Kratos narrative, now faces the challenge of moving forward without the iconic Kratos at the helm in its latest iterations. He argues that by pulling out the "tentpole" character, developers risk alienating the audience that invested in the original emotional journey.
Official Responses and Industry Nuance
Critics of Fonnesbech’s stance often argue that variety is necessary to keep a franchise from becoming "stale." Hollywood, they point out, regularly swaps actors for Batman or James Bond, yet the brands persist.
Fonnesbech counters that games are a different medium. "We are lowering our purchase risk by buying something we know," he says. "We know the quality, we know the tone, and we know we connect with the character. When you switch characters, you create friction."
He does, however, acknowledge the "Star Wars" exception. When a franchise reaches the saturation point of a hundred million fans—rather than the five or ten million typical of most AAA titles—it evolves into an "ecosystem." In such cases, the brand name alone carries enough weight to support spin-offs, side stories, and genre-bending titles like Halo Wars or Star Wars: Zero Company. For smaller studios, however, such experiments are often financial suicide.
Implications for Future Development
The implications for studios are stark. Fonnesbech’s advice to developers is to guard their hit IPs with extreme jealousy.
- Prioritize Consistency: If you have found a character that resonates with an audience, that is "evidence," not just luck. Protecting that evidence should be the primary business objective.
- Beware of Audience Slicing: Attempting to reach a "new" audience by swapping a lead character often results in alienating the core base, leaving the developer with a smaller, thinner segment of players.
- The "Tentpole" Strategy: Even in anthology-style games, like Cyberpunk 2077, the audience inevitably latches onto specific characters (e.g., those from the Edgerunners Netflix series). Developers should lean into this human need for connection rather than resisting it in favor of abstract "world-building."
Conclusion: The Human Element
As the industry continues to chase the next big hit, Fonnesbech’s warning remains a vital piece of counsel for creative leads. In an era where production costs are ballooning and the competition for player attention is fiercer than ever, the most valuable asset a studio can possess isn’t a new engine or a wider map—it is the emotional bond between the player and the character on the screen.
"We recognize humans, we relate to characters," Fonnesbech concludes. "When you’ve spent 500 hours with Agent 47, you cannot separate the character from the feeling. To discard that is to discard the very foundation of your success."
For developers looking to build lasting legacies, the message is clear: before you change the hero, ensure you aren’t changing the reason the fans showed up in the first place.
