T
oday’s PC gamers are
constantly feeding
YouTube and Twitch
with game footage,
but back in 1995,
capturing our screens was hardly
thought of. Though even then there
existed seeds of 2000s machinima.
One such seed was 3D Movie
Maker, a program that empowered
kids to spend afternoons animating
car crashes and alien abductions.
It’s one of Microsoft’s best bits of
’90s software, recognising the
potential for real-time 3D rendering
as a creative tool. It’s also bizarre.
There was an idea back in the ’90s
that modern software should map its
functions onto the most obvious
metaphors possible. In Microsoft
Bob, for instance, programs were
organised into the rooms of a house.
PC Gamer’s ’90s demo discs similarly
featured adventure game-style
interfaces. These virtual spaces
couldn’t have boring old tutorials –
Turing and Asimov promised
artificial intelligence, not tooltips – so
they were augmented with chatty
characters such as a cartoon dog, our
own Coconut Monkey, and the
infamous Clippy from Microsoft
simplified 3D animation such that
kids could create surprisingly
sophisticated scenes and even their
own audio if they had a microphone.
To animate a character walking,
you would add the character to the
scene, select the walking action, and
then click and drag them along the
floor to record a path. You could then
scrub back to the start of the scene
and do the same to another character
or prop, layering the movie with
animations. It was in 3D Movie
Maker that I first got a sense of what
a digital animation and video editing
timeline was, which I’d carry into the
embarrassingly bad games I made
with Adobe Flash, the software used
for so much vector animation in the
late ’90s and 2000s.
Once you made a video in 3D
Movie Maker, there wasn’t much to
do with it other than show your
family and friends. It was a toy, more
or less, but also a peek at the future.
At the time, we were still crudely
editing home movies with dual-deck
VCRs (MiniDV was a new format),
but it was becoming clear that
personal computers were one day
going to put amateur creators –
filmmakers, animators, musicians,
game designers – on the same playing
field as professionals. 3D Movie
Maker wasn’t a game itself, per se,
but it was a vision of entertainment
software as a creative tool, as
opposed to a one-way fun pipe, and
that is very PC gaming.
HOLLYWOOD
DREAMS
Pretending to be Pixar in 3D MOVIE MAKER, Microsoft’s
weird 1995 animation studio for kids. By Tyler Wilde
3D MOVIE MAKER
Office. 3D Movie Maker had a guide,
too, but since it was for kids and this
was the ’90s, he was a horrible blue
guy with goat pupils that ran
perpendicular to each other. He was
a real nightmare, McZee.
McZee’s antics – riding a shopping
cart down roller coaster tracks,
turning into a slice of cheesecake –
illustrate why the ’90s holds such a
monopoly on the words ‘wacky’ and
‘zany’. He guided users around a
movie studio, finally leading to the
interface where you could make your
own movies with props and
characters as garish as he was. The
models were clearly influenced by
American cartoons of the time, such
as Rugrats and Rocko’s Modern Life,
and that was good enough for
ten-year-old me. (A Nickelodeon-
themed version of the software
released in 1996.)
MOVIE MAGIC
If I knew nothing of 3D Movie Maker
and you asked me to imagine what a
3D animation program for kids might
have been like in 1995, I’d probably
assume that it was a proto-Garry’s
Mod disaster with impossible
controls. On the contrary, this was a
brilliant piece of software. It
BREAKOUT ROLES
3D Movie Maker featured some big debuts
G-MAN
McZee’s voice actor,
Michael Shapiro, went on to
play Gordon Freeman’s
employer in Half-Life.
COMIC SANS
Comic Sans debuted in 3D
Movie Maker. It was actually
designed for Microsoft Bob,
but wasn’t ready in time.
BONGO
Bongo is 3D Movie Maker’s
most recognisable actor,
having appeared in the
demo version.
ONCE YOU MADE A VIDEO IN 3D
MOVIE MAKER, THERE WASN’T MUCH
TO DO WITH IT OTHER THAN SHOW
YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS
PC GAMING LEGENDS