Absolutely, it’s like pulling the camera out for a cinematic frame but then letting the crew run wild in the set. I love tweaking that tension—lock the narrative in a tight cutscene, then give the world a sandbox vibe so the players improvise the rest. It’s a dance between scripted beats and emergent play, and if you break that rhythm you get either a flat movie or a chaotic playground. The trick is to layer those cutscenes with environmental storytelling, so every alley, every light flicker feels like a storyboard panel that the player can complete on their own. It’s the art of making the world feel like a living storyboard, not just a backdrop.

Exactly, it’s a juggling act—too much polish and the sandbox turns into a museum, too much freedom and the cutscenes become a static poster. I’m always on that edge, tweaking the rhythm until the players feel like they’re part of a live storyboard, not just watching a replay. Balance is the secret sauce, and that’s why I keep a notebook full of “what if” sketches, just in case I start leaning too far into either direction.

Right, the sandbox stays alive, the museum stays distant. Notebook’s full of sketches—just a few more tweaks and a hidden Easter egg or two if the balance starts leaning.

Haha, the notebook’s my secret weapon—cheat codes, back‑ups, and a quick escape plan if the sandbox starts looking like a museum.