The global gaming industry has never been more competitive, or more creative. According to Newzoo, the games market generated USD 187.7 billion in 2024, a figure that reflects both immense potential and heightened pressure. Developers are no longer competing merely on gameplay mechanics but also on artistry such as character design, immersive worlds, and the subtle harmony of color, sound, and motion that keeps players engaged.
In this high-stakes landscape, Tamir Nadav, Head of Creative and Art at Kokku—one of Latin America’s largest game development studios—visited Vietnam to share his perspective on where game art is headed, and why Vietnam could play an outsized role in shaping the future of interactive entertainment.
Beyond “Pretty Graphics”: Why Art Retains Players
Nadav argues that art direction is not just about making a game visually attractive. “Art is a very, very powerful retaining factor for games,” he explains. What matters most is attention to detail: from the consistency of colors and environments to the personality conveyed through animation.
“It doesn’t matter if a game is pixel art, indie, or AAA. If people feel the world is approachable and consistent, they’ll come back again and again,” Nadav says. In his view, art is not an afterthought but the very vehicle of player retention, the element that transforms a fun mechanic into a lasting experience.
He illustrates this with a familiar example: Disney and Pixar films. The curves of a character or the blockiness of a chair are never random. They tell stories, shape emotions, and make audiences care. Games, Nadav insists, must achieve the same narrative resonance through their visual and audio design.
One misconception he often encounters, both among gamers and developers, is the belief that art must always aim for the highest possible fidelity, the most detailed textures and the flashiest 3D rendering. Another is the opposite extreme: that art doesn’t matter as long as gameplay is fun.
“The truth is in between,” Nadav says. The key is coherence, matching art style with game design, platform, and audience expectations. For casual mobile games, for example, vibrant pastels and playful animation are essential. In contrast, muted earthy tones can alienate players if they don’t match the intended demographic.
This alignment between art and gameplay also extends to sound and animation, areas often overlooked. Nadav points to Marvel films, where subtle sound cues reinforce character identities, or to Cinderella’s “Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo,” where swirling curves signal transformation. Such details, he notes, are just as critical in games for creating a cohesive emotional journey.
AI and the Irreplaceable Value of Context
With the rise of AI in creative industries, Nadav takes a pragmatic but cautious stance. He does not believe AI can replace human creativity, at least not in the areas that matter most. “AI is a tool, but you cannot let the tool do everything. A tool needs a person to wield it,” he explains.
Some studios have rushed to adopt AI, only to rehire artists later to fix its mistakes. For Nadav, the issue is not just about ethics or originality. It’s about context, something AI cannot yet grasp.
“Until an AI can demonstrate it truly understands what context is, I don’t have the fear that it’s ready to take our jobs,” he says. In game design, context is everything: why a character looks or moves a certain way, why colors shift between levels, or why a particular sound cue matters at a specific moment. These choices are not arbitrary; they are carefully woven into the player’s journey, shaping emotion and meaning.
Without that human sense of context, Nadav argues, AI-generated assets risk feeling hollow. A fireball animation may look technically correct, but if it doesn’t reflect the character’s personality or the tone of the story, players will notice the disconnect, even if they can’t articulate it. And once players lose that emotional connection, they lose interest in the game.
This is why, despite AI’s efficiency, Nadav believes human creativity remains indispensable. Gamers don’t just want polished graphics; they want experiences that feel coherent, authentic, and alive. Those are the qualities that context-driven artistry provides and machines cannot replicate.
Vietnam’s “We’ll Figure It Out” Spirit
Having supported the Vietnamese game developer community for several years, Nadav is optimistic about the country’s potential. What impresses him most is not only technical skill but a deep problem-solving passion.
“In Vietnam, there’s this attitude of ‘we’ll figure it out.’ People want to put things together, try, and make great products,” he notes. This contrasts with the U.S., where the industry is highly structured, driven by billion-dollar budgets, extensive market research, and established production pipelines that can sometimes limit experimentation.
Vietnam and Brazil, by comparison, are still writing their playbooks. Without a rigid tradition dictating what a “quality game” must be, developers are free to explore unusual mechanics, art styles, and monetization models. Nadav believes this absence of rules is an advantage: it creates space for ideas that would never survive in more formula-driven markets.
The story of Flappy Bird illustrates this perfectly. Created by Hanoi-based developer Nguyễn Hà Đông in 2013, the game was almost absurdly simple: tap to keep a pixelated bird in the air, but it became a global sensation. Its success was not the result of a carefully engineered pipeline but of experimentation, intuition, and a willingness to ignore conventional wisdom about what a “hit” game should look like.
Brazil has its own examples. Kokku, where Nadav leads the art team, has become a global partner for AAA studios and platforms like Roblox, proving that Latin American talent can compete at the highest levels. Indie developers in Brazil are also experimenting with storytelling rooted in local culture, blending folklore and contemporary aesthetics in ways rarely seen in mainstream markets.
Nadav predicts that in the next five to ten years, studios from Vietnam or Brazil could introduce entirely new genres or systems that reshape global gaming, much like how mobile free-to-play mechanics once emerged outside the AAA industry. “Someone’s going to do something amazing, and then someone else will build on it,” he says. “That’s where innovation comes from.”
Both countries are also experiencing a creative “renaissance” at the same time, making cross-regional collaboration increasingly likely. If Vietnamese studios’ resourcefulness combines with Brazilian studios’ growing scale and diversity, Nadav sees the potential for these emerging markets to challenge established hubs and influence the global industry in unexpected ways.
Designing Joy in a Complex World
For Nadav, the ultimate reward of his work is simple: making people happy. Whether it’s a casual mobile puzzle or a massive AAA release, he sees every project as a chance to inject joy into a turbulent world.
“When millions of people play a game I’ve worked on and leave positive reviews, that’s my little push of joy that goes out to the rest of the world,” he says. It’s a philosophy rooted not just in design expertise, but in a deeply personal belief in the social value of creativity.
As Vietnam’s digital economy continues to grow at one of the fastest rates in Southeast Asia, the opportunities for local developers are immense. Nadav’s message to them is clear: embrace your resourcefulness, pay attention to artistic detail, and don’t be afraid to innovate.
If Flappy Bird showed how a simple experiment from Hanoi could capture the world’s imagination, the next breakthrough could be even bigger—born from a Vietnamese or Brazilian studio unafraid to break the rules. In an industry where established markets often follow tried-and-true formulas, it may be the emerging hubs, with their freedom and fearless creativity, that deliver gaming’s next global phenomenon.