The Insane History of Lego Bionicle — FULL DOCUMENTARY

[00:00:00] Speaker 1: Since the beginning of its inception, there has never been a toy quite like LEGO. Over the course of the product's 70-year run, LEGO has managed to bridge the gap between generations young and old with the timeless concept of the LEGO brick. The company's core guidelines, carefully laid out in the 1950s, set the stage for decades of success, stating plainly that LEGO must be "classic in its representation, needing no renewal", so that any LEGO brick from 1958 onward fits with any LEGO brick made today. This one simple concept, tied with an emphasis on limitless creative expression, has been staple in how LEGO develops their products to this day. LEGO's endless line of themes and worlds meant there was something to capture the imagination of every child, boy or girl. There was LEGO City, LEGO Castle, LEGO Space. A simple product with infinite possibilities. This is what drove LEGO to become one of the most successful toys in history. So why did this formula start failing LEGO? In the mid-90s, the company was starting to see a real shift in consumer interest. LEGO products were still on all the store shelves, but children were simply going elsewhere. Where were the kids going? What could possibly rival the fun and excitement of such a timeless toy like LEGO? In the mid-90s, Pokemania had taken hold and would not let go. It's hard to put into words how insanely popular Pokemon really was. Nintendo had struck the nail on the head, dominating every possible form of entertainment with the Pokemon TV show, Pokemon cards, Pokemon video games, Pokemon merchandise. Every single venture that Nintendo took with Pokemon was a colossal success. LEGO was feeling the heat. And yet, Pokemon was not the direct culprit, but rather a symptom of a much larger problem for LEGO. In truth, LEGO's financial struggles in the 90s were most likely caused by a multitude of different problems, including risky business ventures, intense competition, and most notably, a growth ceiling. You see, LEGO had already dominated the toy industry for decades, but for the majority, had not reached out much beyond that. David Robertson, author of Brick by Brick, writes about LEGO's problems in the 90s, stating plainly that, quote, "Lego had gone through a period of stagnancy. They had reached the end of their natural growth cycle," end quote. LEGO was already on the shelves of every toy store, so where else could they go? This led LEGO to innovate harder, but in the wrong directions. LEGO thought they knew what kids wanted and began developing increasingly complex new products without any real evidence for interest. Between the years 1993 and 1998, LEGO had tripled their product line and doubled their number of unique LEGO pieces to almost 13,000. More pieces made products harder to assemble, a problem for a generation of children that were becoming increasingly accustomed to instant gratification-style products. The increased pieces also made LEGO's inventory much more difficult to manage, making restocking a nightmare, sometimes taking months. Whether knowingly or unknowingly, LEGO had managed to break two of the core rules laid out for the company in the 50s. One, that the products had to be simple yet offer unlimited variety, and two, that they needed to be easily distributed. Somehow, LEGO was digging themselves into a worse place than they initially were. At this point, the company's unconstrained level of innovation was becoming a problem. And worse still, it was operating outside the bounds of real informed market research. Levels were not increasing, but production was, by a lot. This problem built up until 1998, when LEGO reported its first financial loss in the company's history. By the end of the year, LEGO had laid off more than a thousand employees, with no end in sight to their growing financial troubles. At the rate the company was going, bankruptcy was becoming a real possibility. They had to make a change, so they did. It all started in 1999, when LEGO started taking research and development a lot more seriously. They needed to start creating products that kids could get excited about again. And one of the products that worked right out of the gate was LEGO Star Wars, the company's first officially licensed product. LEGO Star Wars was an undeniable success, and still is to this day. But at the time, it was nowhere near enough to save the company from financial peril. The main problem with LEGO Star Wars was the licensing costs that ate into profits, as well as the drastic dip in sales that occurred whenever a year went by without a new Star Wars movie. It just wasn't consistent. LEGO needed a product that wasn't dependent on the success of another company's intellectual property. In fact, they needed their own intellectual property. One with substance, a compelling story, compelling characters, and a world just as immersive and captivating as Star Wars. In this pursuit, LEGO turned to a recently shelved product idea, originally pitched in 1995 by a designer named Chris Faber. At the time, Faber was working as an artist for a Copenhagen-based marketing firm named Advance. This company was and still is partnered with LEGO to produce a myriad of content, including product and packaging design. Faber worked on a wide range of LEGO products throughout his career, but it wasn't until 1995 when Chris was given the green light to produce an entirely new product for LEGO's Technic theme. Technic was a subset of LEGO products that included more complex parts like rods, beams, joints, and gears. Chris recalls the time he was given the project, stating: "I was sitting with LEGO Technic and thought I would love to build a character instead of a car," Faber said. "I thought of this biological thing. The human body is built from small parts into a functional body, just like a model. What if you got a box full of spare parts and built a living thing?" And with that, Faber got to work. Initially, Faber worked with LEGO and Clay, attempting to prove his theory that it was actually possible to build an action figure with LEGO. The result was a sort of Frankenstein's monster of both Clay and LEGO Technic pieces. Chris presented the idea to his team at Advance, and they agreed to finalize the concept and pitch it to LEGO. The idea was called Psybots, a theme complete with characters, story, and an innovative new building system that showcased the first ever ball joint in a LEGO product. The concept was a little edgy, a little dark, and very, very weird. I mean, nothing about the concept art really screams LEGO, but the ideas were definitely compelling. The Psybots were set to be located in different environments, with different specialties. The toys proposed the concept of a sort of mix-and-match buildable action figure that could swap out its body parts for tools, weapons, and other gadgets. Another innovative component was the idea of Psybot computer games and multimedia experiences that could help to perpetuate the excitement for the product. This would naturally open up other streams of revenue as well. All these concepts were incredibly new and exciting, and several prototypes were developed, but the project never ended up seeing the light of day. Psybots was inevitably shelved the same year, but could take pride in the fact that almost every concept proposed was eventually used in future LEGO sets, especially Bionicle. Most importantly, Psybots birthed the idea that would ultimately save LEGO from bankruptcy: the idea of the buildable action figure. Roughly four years after Faber's Psybots proposal, the Advance team would get another knock at their door from LEGO. Turns out, buildable action figures were a hit with test groups, and LEGO's R&D was paying off. This led the company to partner with the Advance team once again on a whole new project titled Slyzer, or Throwbots in America. Slyzer was a buildable action figure, Slyzer was meant to appeal to a very particular breed of consumer. LEGO was infatuated with the idea of distributing Slyzers to so-called unconventional retailers. This would include gas stations, kiosks, and other places kids beg for silly things while their mom is running errands. This was clearly an attempt by LEGO to finally expand beyond the toy shelves they had conquered for 50 years. This new approach meant that Slyzers had to be inexpensive and super easy to distribute. Years later, Chris would share concept art he designed in 1999 of a Slyzer vending machine, advertising Slyzer figures for the low, low price of $5.99. This vending machine was never actually produced, but it was perfect evidence for the kind of product LEGO was trying to develop. You see, LEGO was participating in a very common trend within the toy industry, dubbed the Craze product. Toys that were meant to be hot for a season, stir up a tremendous amount of buzz, and then fizzle out of production. Then, rinse and repeat. LEGO also took a page from Pokemon's book, striving for a gotta-catch-em-all approach to product development. There were eight Slyzers to collect, each inhabiting a different biome on planet Slyzer. The American figures were dubbed Torch, Ski, Turbo, Scuba, Jet, Amazon, Granite, and Electro. And no, this wouldn't be the last of LEGO's horrible naming choices. But you can't blame LEGO too much. This was their first foray into a real IP, something they were completely new to. And with this venture came an understandable level of apprehension. You see, in the beginning, LEGO was struggling to decide how to brand Slyzers, and worried how this edgy new product line might affect their brand's image. Soren Holm, former design chief at LEGO, recalls some of the company's worries at the time. "Was it Slyzer from LEGO? Was it LEGO Technic Slyzer, or LEGO Slyzer from Technic? We were so afraid of destroying what we came from and going into this new world. It was really an uphill launch. We didn't think it would work." End quote. But with Chris Faber and his team at the helm, LEGO took the leap, and pioneered some groundbreaking new ideas in the process. The team would hit hard on making everything about Slyzers collectible. Apart from the eight unique figures, LEGO would also include throwing discs that were launched by the Slyzers. Each Slyzer had six discs available to collect, each with a different power level. This was the very beginning of LEGO's insane obsession with collectible discs, something that would carry over well into Bionicle's life cycle. Both Slyzer, Bionicle, and other LEGO themes would sell a supplementary disc package, which was just a cheap polybag with more discs. Another attempt to incentivize collectability was through the emphasis of combiner figures. Ugly, Frankenstein's monster creations that could only be assembled with the parts of multiple different Slyzers. A silly marketing tactic, with a lazy bit of lore sprinkled on top in an attempt to sell more toys. As you might guess by now, the entire product line was very proto-Bionicle, as almost all of these collectability trends were incorporated into the line in 2001. Regardless, Slyzer achieved an impressive amount of sales, with over $100 million generated in 1999. This led to a few subsequent releases in 2000, before being pulled off store shelves for good. As far as LEGO was concerned, Slyzer was an incredibly successful experiment. The toys proved that constructible action figures, later known as construction figures, had a very promising place in the market. As for design, Slyzer perfectly executed the first use of ball joint articulation in a LEGO product, resulting in a poseable, morphable toy that really played like an action figure. It also introduced story elements, conflict, and characters, while although not very fleshed out, still served as the foundation for expandable storytelling had the product line continued. But LEGO was sticking to the crazed product business model, so they dusted their hands with Slyzers and prepared to introduce something new. But in the year 2000, LEGO released RoboRiders, the company's second attempt at collectible, constructible action figures. In many ways, RoboRiders felt like a step back from becoming Bionicle. The product line featured motorcycle robots that were sent to fight a monster virus that was loose on the web, giving implications that the story somehow took place in cyberspace. LEGO continued the trend of releasing a set of collectible figures, now six instead of Slyzer's eight. This time, the additional collectibles were talisman wheels, a weaponized disc that could be launched by the RoboRiders and conveniently purchased through supplementary wheel packages that were sold in sets of four. LEGO was still infatuated with the idea of marketing to more unconventional retailers. In the process of creating an easily distributable product, the idea emerged for the canister. The design team fabricated a clear, soda can-style canister to package the toy, once again with the hope that the product might be sold in a vending machine. While there is no confirmation that RoboRiders were ever sold this way, the canister still functioned as perfect packaging for the product, and many more products for years to come. In truth, the canister was probably the most "bionicle" thing to come out of RoboRiders, and arguably did more with the canister than Bionicle ever did. You see, there was a fair amount of cleverness that went into the design of the packaging. Kids could actually place the canister in the freezer, and when chilled, the can would reveal a code that could be used to unlock a secret minigame on the RoboRiders' website. This was incredibly exciting for its time, because it not only cultivated a sense of wonder and discovery, but it also paired that with an entire experience that could be had online. It really goes to show how forward-thinking Chris Faber's original Cybots concept was, as it included elements of these ideas five years earlier. Another intriguing aspect of the canister was that the tops of the cans were used as wheels for the toy's combiner figures. These things were still pretty damn ugly, but it demonstrates LEGO's ability to innovate perfectly. The entire product, from the packaging to the toy inside, was an experience, and that's truly something special. RoboRiders would also release a set of "mini-riders" alongside the main product line. Sound familiar? This was essentially a miniature version of the actual product that used substantially less parts and was significantly cheaper. You see, one of LEGO's fundamental goals when developing Craze products was that the toy could be purchased with just a few weeks' worth of allowance. And if a child wasn't patient, well, there was always a cheaper option to choose from. This marketing tactic was employed seamlessly with Bionicle the year after. Unfortunately for LEGO, RoboRiders sold pretty terribly. The characters were lifeless, the storyline was borderline non-existent, and the toy was simply kind of crappy. At this time, LEGO was beginning to realize that the market for impulse-driven Craze products was somewhat unsustainable. The relentless pace required for yearly releases was proving to be too taxing for a company that was known for taking one to three years to develop a product line. Besides, did LEGO really want their saving grace to be low-cost, impulse-bought toys sold in gas stations? How would that affect the brand's image over time? LEGO needed something with substance, longevity, and a compelling story that would hold children's interests for years to come. And that product was finally just around the corner. Turns out, there was a reason RoboRiders had such a short shelf life. And it wasn't just because it sold poorly. In fact, the entire product was really just a gap filler. A sort of intermediary step before something much bigger. You see, during RoboRiders' life cycle, another product line was being developed at the same time. Something much bigger, with real story, real characters, and real personality. This was everything LEGO had been working towards within the realm of constructible action figures. And now, they had earned their stripes. LEGO had once again partnered with Chris Faber and the team at Advance to develop an entirely new concept. The concept that would eventually become Bionicle. And the name was Boneheads of Voodoo Island. Boneheads was an entirely new angle for LEGO, and it hit the scene dripping with personality. The concept played perfectly to LEGO's latest mantra of "concepts with an attitude", giving a wacky impression with its B-movie-esque title and outlandish concept art. At this point, a team had been assembled for the project. Martin Reiber Anderson, an employee at LEGO, would take the helm as lead toy designer, with Bob Thompson as lead writer for the theme's story. Chris Faber would work with the LEGO team as designer and artist, with more members joining as the project scaled. Initially, a myriad of names were thrown around for the concept, including Voodoo Heads, Slam Heads, Zeekers, and most infamously, Do Heads, which just sounds like a slur. Thankfully, LEGO avoided that PR nightmare and went ahead with Boneheads of Voodoo Island. The initial concept placed heavy emphasis on story, taking care not to dismiss the importance of what good storytelling could mean for the longevity of the brand. The story was to take place on an island, Voodoo Island to be precise, where a tribe of peoples called Boneheads lived. And what did these characters do exactly? Well, that was the tough part. So lead writer Bob Thompson fired off the story concept to outside freelancers, one of them being a former colleague who was working as a writer for a company in Edinburgh, Scotland. The concept caught the eye of Alistair Swinerton, a writer working for the company at the time, who then tossed around the pitch with some of his colleagues. Alistair is quoted saying, "Something about Boneheads caught my eye, so I decided to work on that one. It had kind of an 'Easter Island' vibe to it, I felt, and I'd always been fascinated with that subject." Some rather unimaginative names had been given to the characters in the concept phase, those being Flame, Hook, Claw, and Axe, names given because of the weapons the characters wielded. So, Alistair started there, reworking the names to incorporate real Polynesian words and phrases, a creative concept that would come back to haunt Lego in a lawsuit from the Maori people claiming cultural appropriation. The dispute was eventually settled with monetary compensation and some tweaks to the language used. Despite the lawsuit, the names used for the main four heroes remained the same. Those names were Tahu, Gali, Lewa, and Onua, names that directly translated to their respective elements of fire, water, air, and earth. At the same time, production of the actual toy line was slowly taking shape. The main gimmick behind the bonehead was a detachable head that ejected off the body when hit hard enough. This made for a sort of competitive style of play where kids were meant to pit their figures against each other until one bonehead knocked the other one's head off. It was somewhat reminiscent of Rock'em Sock'em robots, and Lego thought it would be a hit with young boys, especially American ones. Some executives were not too pleased with the whole "head decapitation" idea, as it felt a little too violent for Lego. But the concept was still tried in test groups. And to Lego's surprise, it did not fare well. Children primarily took issue with how easy it was for the heads to come off, making the problem of losing pieces a chief concern. This led Lego straight back to the drawing board. They needed something a little less jarring, but still cool and edgy. This second attempt would finally bring forth the idea of the mask. A quote by Mods Nipper, a former media consultant for Lego, describes perfectly what happened next. "Eric Kramer, who was a product manager for Lego, literally interrupted a meeting to show me the original mask," recalled Nipper. "He was saying, 'We've got it now. The mask is going to make all the difference.' And he was right. Until then we'd had a very bumpy ride with the concept. We really weren't sure just how good an idea it was. But after the mask was born, the communication, story, packaging, everything just flowed like a river." End quote. Now, due to the secrecy that revolved around Bonehead's development at the time, it's very difficult to piece together all the key moments into perfect chronological order. In fact, the entire Bonehead's project was very much an insider secret until many years later. But if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that the moment the mask was introduced was the moment Bonehead's truly became Bionicle. With that being said, it's fair to assume this was most likely around the time when Lego decided to rework the name, as it was becoming apparent that the idea was evolving into something quite different from the original concept. Many names were tossed around at this point. Some of the most notable ones being Bionites, Afterman, and Evoids, a name proposed by Alistar Winnerton as a sort of mashup of the words Evolving and Droids. Eventually, the team would come up with Bionicle, a mix between the words Biological and Chronicle. The name perfectly encapsulated all the elements that made the theme what it was. Bionicle truly blurred the lines between science and magic, organism and machine. And the word Chronicle placed emphasis on the deep world-building and lore that enveloped the concept. That, combined with the fact that the word also sounded like mechanical, made it a perfect fit. Inspiration for the name came about while Lego was very much in the thick of world-building for Bionicle. At this point, Chris Faber, alongside various other illustrators at Lego, began to flesh out the aesthetic for the theme, creating a distinct look to the story's heroes, setting, and antagonists. Yann Kier, a graphic designer and cartoonist for Lego, would end up developing some very interesting early concept art for the story's heroes, thereafter referred to as the Toa, or warrior in Maori. These designs would be expanded on to incorporate masks, and slowly but surely, the world of Bionicle had begun to take shape. It emanated the feeling of a world vastly separate from ours. Was this in the future? Was this in the past? So many elements of the island screamed tribal and primitive, while other aspects surrounding the characters felt futuristic and otherworldly. This was the case very commonly associated with Star Wars, where the world felt somewhat familiar while still constantly reminding us how different it was. This feeling, this twist on reality, was the hallmark of something truly enticing and laid the foundation for a very unique brand of storytelling, much of which would emerge from Christian Faber's own head. You see, many of Bionicle's original story concepts emerged from Chris Faber's own experiences. Experiences that opened his mind up to perspectives he might not have otherwise had. Early on in Faber's career, he would begin to experience severe issues with his eyesight. This would lead him to see a specialist where further testing would take place. Surprisingly, Faber's eyesight wasn't deteriorating from aging, but rather a benign tumor that had formed in his brain. This specific diagnosis was called prolactinoma, and if left untreated, could cause quite unpleasant symptoms for the rest of his life. On top of that, prolactinoma forms in one of the least accessible parts of the brain, making removal of the tumor impossible. Instead, Chris was given a heavy prescription of medication, one that would essentially halt the growth of the tumor, allowing him to lead a relatively normal life. Unfortunately, the side effects that stemmed from the medication were incredibly unpleasant, making it hard for Chris to pursue his career goals to the extent he desired. This would lead Chris to begin pondering more about life, and the human body, and how we as human beings are made up of such a vast array of complex parts. If only we could just remove a broken part and replace it with another. He also thought about the medication he took, and imagined every pill as a group of tiny soldiers being sent to battle inside his body. What would the soldiers do when they arrived? Would they even know where they were? Faber would toy with these thoughts for years, with many of these ideas serving as the driving force behind Psybots, Slyzer, and RoboRiders. But it wasn't until Bionicle when Faber's storytelling would really shine. Bionicle's story centered around a great being named Mata Nui, a sort of spiritual protector that would come to be widely praised by a race of peoples called the Matoran. This would lead Mata Nui's brother Makuta to grow jealous and infect his brother with a terrible illness, one that would place the great being into a deep slumber beneath the ocean. After thousands of years, land formations would form atop the giant's sleeping body, and Mata Nui's followers, the Matoran, would come to reside on those islands. Many years later, a group of heroes would wash upon the shores of the island of Mata Nui. They would arrive in canisters, closely resembling pills. They would emerge not knowing who or where they were. There, on the shores of the island, they would build themselves up, piece by piece, until they were whole. They would meet the elders of the island, the Turaga, who would tell them they were sent to save Mata Nui, an island plagued by evils. And where exactly did the afflicted island reside? Why none other than atop the head of the sleeping giant. Thankfully, a medical breakthrough in the mid-90s would give Chris his life back, reducing his treatment to a simple bi-weekly injection, free from the horrible side effects of his previous medication. And while it's true that Chris had suffered greatly with his illness, the ideas that stemmed from his struggle were beautiful in many ways. Chris demonstrated what a true artist does, and that's deriving beauty and inspiration from all parts of the human experience, be it pleasant or painful. At this point, development of the theme was all coming together. A story was in place, the product line had been developed, and a logo had been created. Chris took part in designing the logo, drawing up a 3D render of the Bionicle lettering in a style that perfectly encapsulated the mystique and awe surrounding the theme. Additionally, a symbol was designed. That being the symbol of the three virtues: unity, duty, and destiny. A sort of holy trinity that the Bionicle peoples lived by. The inspiration emerged from a reworked piece of concept art that was tossed around during the theme's naming stage. At one point, Bionicle was set to be named "B4", as in the word "before", accompanied by the subtitle "Bionic Recur Unit". The name proved to be too wordy for marketing, but a piece of that original logo was reworked into the three virtues symbol later used in production. The packaging for the toys were once again produced as canisters, not only for how practical and innovative they were, but unlike robo-riders, the canisters in Bionicle actually had a place in the story. Released with the Toa, the cans featured exciting art, some neat little gimmicks, and Lego's famous Technic branding, a subtle way of categorizing Bionicle into one of Lego's broader group of products. This title would be phased out later as Bionicle established itself as a standalone brand. Another creative side feature of the cans was that they served as storage units for the toys, giving them actual utility and discouraging children from simply throwing them away. The toys themselves were compact enough to be placed back in their canisters after play, and possibly taken to school. Now, concerning the actual toys themselves, Lego had taken great care in ensuring they had created something really special. The product designers stayed true to Lego's famous industry words in that, "It was an amazing brand, so you better do some amazing things." And that they certainly did. The toys were captivating in their appearance, releasing in a wide variety of colors and characters, holding true to Lego's ever-successful adoption of the collect-em-all tactic. The six heroes, or Toa, were Tahu, Gali, Lewa, Onua, Pohatu, and Kopaka, the main toys for the product line and the heroes of Bionicle's first story. When it came to the toys themselves, Lego had clearly honed the use of ball-joint articulation. The toys were poseable and fun to handle, with each Toa brandishing its own weapon that was related to the environment they inhabited in the story. There were axes, claws, swords, and hooks, and all these weapons could be utilized by a gear on the Toa's back that would swing the weapon when turned. Now this must be prefaced with a very bold citation needed. But there is talk on the internet that the toys were actually designed for a type of competitive play, where children were meant to pit their Toa against each other, swinging their weapons until either opponent's mask was knocked off. Another neat gimmick was the addition of a special code imprinted on the inside of each Toa's mask. Children could use this code in conjunction with a promotional Bionicle CD to unlock additional content. They'd simply input their code into the game to reveal a special animation of that Toa. These short clips were surreal in their presentation, observing the Toa as they interacted within their natural habitat in a beautifully animated 30 second spot. The atmosphere of these videos truly captured the essence of the Toa. This, this was what Bionicle was all about. By late 2000, Bionicle had been fully developed and Lego's newest theme was ready for test markets. Promotion was aggressive. A comic book series was released, a promotional tour was set, and a website was launched explaining Bionicle's story, characters, and setting. Additionally, Lego released an online Flash game that played a pivotal role in Bionicle's launch success. Developed as a point-and-click adventure, the Mata Nui online game was an ambitious release by Lego in an attempt to capitalize on the Flash game takeover that was beginning to occur in 2001. The game took players across the island of Mata Nui to explore its vast assortment of environments and landscapes, with new episodes releasing throughout the year that revealed more and more of the island to its players. When the game was initially released, players could only explore the shoreline of the island and watch a small animation retelling the story so far. However, as the game was updated, in-game obstacles would be lifted to allow players to explore more villages and, if they were lucky, meet the Toa that guarded them. Many of the game elements were puzzle-based, with each separate village plagued with their own problems players needed to solve. The Mata Nui online game was a tremendous hit for Bionicle, igniting a passion for the theme's setting and its characters that would soon take over around the world. And with that year's anticipated console title getting cancelled, it was all fans got to play that year. The Flash game was the public's first real look into the world of Bionicle, and what better way to show it than through an online, interactive experience that kids could play free on their parents' computer. To this day, the game is still regarded as a classic, and has been re-released multiple times throughout its 21-year legacy. Bionicle's online game was a smash hit, but in many ways, it was quite the risk for LEGO, as Bionicle's primarily online marketing strategy was, for the most part, completely new territory. Yes, there was an online promotion for robo-riders, although it had never been attempted by LEGO with this large of a budget. But LEGO had taken a calculated risk, and knew that it was time to take the leap. 2001 was one of the first years where a primarily online marketing strategy was truly accessible and viable. Creative new avenues for advertising were being explored from a myriad of angles, through websites, flash games, etc. Bionicle was trying to posture itself as more than just a toyline. It was trying to be a multimedia experience. LEGO's main focus was to push Bionicle's story through a multitude of different mediums, including video games, movies, comics, and books. While this somewhat decentralized the storytelling experience, it did allow LEGO to reach their audience in a variety of ways, which was incredibly powerful in capturing larger audiences. And that it did. LEGO's 2001 release of the Bionicle toyline went absolutely gangbusters, grossing $160 million in sales, and becoming LEGO's #1 most profitable product for the year. But Bionicle's success was hiding a much uglier picture underneath. LEGO was still in tremendous financial trouble. And while Bionicle was succeeding, virtually every other LEGO product was failing. It was paramount that LEGO made Bionicle work. The company's future may have depended on it. By the end of 2001, Bionicle had become unstoppable. Having recently been awarded 2001's most innovative toy of the year, LEGO had proved to the world that they still knew how to make toys kids loved. And with that success came a relentless stream of games, comics, and of course, licensing deals. LEGO was being slapped onto every product imaginable. One of the more notable deals was Nike's Bionicle shoe, which came with an attachable mask piece that could fit onto the toe. It seems Nike also sold other masks separately so kids could mix and match. As ugly as the shoes were, the gimmick paired perfectly with the toyline's emphasis on swappability and creativity, a theme LEGO didn't want to neglect with Bionicle. Another iconic licensed product was the McDonald's Matoran, cleverly dubbed by fans as the Mictoran. Released as six miniature Bionicle figures, the Mictoran toys could be purchased with any McDonald's meal in 2001. Interestingly enough, the Mictoran were part of McDonald's strategy to promote a slightly more mature version of the Happy Meal called the Mighty Kids' Meal. This was an order that included slightly larger portions and marketed itself to children who felt like they were too old for Happy Meals, but not quite big enough for an adult order. The Mictoran are still remembered fondly by Bionicle fans for their charm and nostalgia, with collectors still finding complete sets to this day. Now while Bionicle's success with licensing deals was great news for the company, LEGO still had to keep the momentum going with the brand. 2002 would have to be followed up with a story and toys just as exciting if not more than the previous year. And now, with Bionicle proving itself to be a global phenomenon, there was no excuse for LEGO not to go all in. Enter Greg Farshti, writer at the LEGO Company. Farshti was initially brought on board to write for Bionicle in 2001, given the task of expanding on the product's initial story bible and continuing the plot for the world and its characters. One of Farshti's early contributions was insisting that the six Toa all had individual personalities rather than the godlike, lifeless traits that were originally proposed for the team. Greg would go on to write for many of the Bionicle comics, as well as the vast majority of Bionicle novels over the theme's lifespan. These stories would serve as the main vessel for Bionicle's unfolding plot, contributing heavily to the feature films and games that would follow. This would lead Greg to work alongside original team member Bob Thompson to continue Bionicle's story into 2002. That year, an entirely new villain would arise to test the Toa, one that would set the bar for Bionicle toys and their possibilities for years to come. In many ways, the Borok were the first true Bionicle antagonists. Before 2002, Bionicle's original monsters, or Rahi in Matoran, consisted of the Nui Jaga, Tarakava, Manus, and a couple other strange beasts, many of which utilized action elements and design concepts originally tested in the Boneheads phase of development. Now it's not to say that these toys weren't exciting or successful, but their designs fell heavily on the side of Lego Technic, primarily resembling machines without leaving much room to entertain the idea of an organism. I mean, for God's sake, one of the Rahi just straight up had treads. Now, the Borok would really feel like Bionicle. Designed to resemble a sort of hive-like creature, the Borok would hatch from pods and fling mind-controlling parasites called Chrona from beneath their shells. This lore would be expertly incorporated into the toy's play features, additionally giving the Borok bug-like qualities that made for surprisingly dark and compelling villains. Lego once again knocked it out of the park with packaging, devising a way for the Borok to be stored in their canisters as though they were hanging upside down from inside one of their hive pods. Now, 2002 had proven to be an incredibly successful follow-up year for Bionicle. Along with the Borok, a brand new set of Toa forms had been released, alongside an epic new storyline. Lego had to be doing something right, and continued to carry their momentum into 2003, where Bionicle mania would fly to new heights. 2003 was unarguably the most eventful year for the Bionicle franchise. That year would kick off with a North American promotional tour, where vans filled with Bionicle toys and promotional material would take to the roads with hip, cool adults like this guy, showing you the latest the toy line had to offer. And the vans were absolutely decked out. I can guarantee with 100% certainty that any regard I would have had for stranger danger as a 9 year old would have evaporated in seconds had one of these bad boys pulled up to my community center. You see, Lego was taking promotion quite seriously that year. After all, they had quite a big announcement to make. That year, in fall of 2003, Lego would release their first feature-length Bionicle movie: The Mask of Light. Pipe was at an absolute peak for the movie, which had been teased since April of 2002, taking the excitement for the series to the absolute boiling point before its release. This would be Lego's first feature film based on original characters, and although it was just a direct-to-video production, anticipation for the film was high. The film, produced by Miramax, would follow the adventures of two young Matoran who happen upon the Mask of Light, journeying across Mata Nui to find the mask's rightful owner while avoiding Makuta's greatest weapon yet: the Rahkshi. The film was a commercial success, and gave the world the Toa's first ever appearance being voiced and acted as real characters on screen, while simultaneously showing off their new forms from that year. That's right, after two years, the Toa had evolved into the Toa Nuva, granting them entirely new looks, and giving Lego a brand spanking new, lucrative toy line. Released in the summer of 2002, these Toa were bulkier, more articulate, and brought an entirely new look to the team. Lego wanted a hit home that the Toa had evolved, and their designs reflected it. The toys were somewhat larger, with new pieces that very much resembled armor, along with new weapons and masks to match. In all aspects, the Toa had been upgraded. That year would also see the release of the Scholastic published Bionicle novels. The first three books would be written by Kathy Hapka, before Greg Farshti would permanently take the helm as novelist for the franchise. Greg would go on to become a fan favorite for his dedication to Bionicle's story, bringing his enthusiasm to fansites, where he would engage with readers, poll the forums, and learn from the fans, fueling his writing process. Greg would continue to interact on fansites well after Bionicle's end, making an effort to stay engaged before his eventual leave from the forums. 2003 would continue to be an exciting year for the Bionicle franchise. With the release of a movie, the first-ever books, and an exciting new toy line, Lego was on the fast track to having another knockout year for the brand. And to mark that success, Lego recognized Bionicle's popularity with its very own theme park ride in Legoland, California, titled The Bionicle Blaster. Unfortunately, the ride is incredibly underwhelming, but still operational. Fans can still visit the park in California to get their pictures with Toa Tahu, Toa Gali, and more. But Lego hadn't stopped there. 2003 was when fans would come to see the release of the first-ever Bionicle game. Or rather, first big-budget Bionicle game. As up to this point, only Flash and Game Boy games had been released. It had come as a long-awaited moment for fans. In 2001, a full-fledged Bionicle game was slated for release, but was cancelled, with Lego's official statement blaming "chip compatibility and timing issues." Lego prefaced this statement by saying they were committed to producing only the highest quality products for children. So it's very possible the game just… sucked? And with such aggressive timelines to meet, it's possible there may have not been enough time to get things right. Thankfully, fans have since gotten their hands on early alpha versions of the game, so not all aspects of the title are shrouded in mystery. Regardless, 2003 was Lego's year to get the Bionicle game right. The game would release on all platforms, granting players the ability to fight as all six Toa throughout the story. Players would surf on lava with Tahu, swim underwater with Gali, and sail through the trees as Lewa, all while battling famous villains from the story. The game was met with relatively mixed reviews, falling heavily on the side of mediocre. It was pretty apparent from the game's short playtime and relatively low difficulty that the game was meant for younger fans of the series. Of course, nostalgia has a way of working wonders, granting the game a 94% satisfaction rate among Google users today. Bionicle had stampeded through 2003, with one smash hit after another. Lego's plan for posturing the franchise as a multimedia experience was working wonders, and the company had no plans on slowing down. In fact, it would kill them if they did. 2003 proved to be Lego's worst year in history, where the company would come closer to bankruptcy than it ever had before. The truth was that year, Bionicle would account for 100% of the company's profits. In every other area, Lego was tanking. This would lead Lego's CEO, Kjeld Kirk Kristiansen, to step down, deciding maybe he wasn't the right man to lead Lego into the new millennia. In 2004, Mr. Kristiansen would be succeeded by a man named Jorgen Vig Nudstorp, Lego's first non-family CEO. Jorgen would help bring Lego back to basics, something that the wildly innovative company needed dearly at the time. It was only then, with Bionicle to lean on, that Lego would finally start healing. The remainder of the decade would be a turnaround point for Lego. With sales starting to recover, Lego didn't need to rely so heavily on Bionicle, although the franchise continued to be Lego's highest selling product line until 2005. Throughout the 2000s, Bionicle would consistently push the envelope, keeping the product line and its story fresh with new releases each year. By the end of the product's life cycle, Bionicle would see a release of four separate films, seven games, dozens of books, and infinite toy sets spanning multiple years. It was only in 2009, when sales finally started to slow down, that Lego would decide to discontinue Bionicle. But the franchise's lasting impression had sparked a flame. Lego was far from finished with constructible action figures. The following year would see the release of Lego Hero Factory, an entirely new brand of heroes that resembled the Toa so closely, it left many wondering why Bionicle was cancelled for it in the first place. Regardless, Hero Factory was a success, bringing the magic and wonder of construction building to an entirely new generation. But Lego wouldn't stop there. The Bionicle franchise would inspire dozens of other sets throughout the 10s, with constructible action figures made for Lego Star Wars, Lego Chima, Lego DC, and so on. Additionally, the Bionicle story would ignite Lego's passion for creating vibrant new worlds with compelling characters, settings, and stories. Most notably with the Lego Ninjago theme, which would go on to become incredibly successful, with a feature-length film released on the big screen in 2017. Bionicle's impact made breakthroughs with how Lego handled product development as well. Before the franchise, production of certain toy lines could take as long as three years, an unmistakably long period of time that made it difficult for the company to properly react to market trends. But with Bionicle, Lego had streamlined development into three-month stages, creating a systematic process for conceptualization and execution. This made the company infinitely more agile, and allowed Lego to capitalize on the latest industry hype. Entire sets could be developed in six months. Bionicle would also help to unite Lego's triad of development teams, those being marketing, design, and engineering. Traditionally, Lego's production departments worked predominantly separate from each other, with one team passing information to the next with very little collaboration. Bionicle fixed this, encouraging team members from all departments to work closely with each other to develop a product that truly met the initial vision. With Bionicle's influence, Lego learned how to evolve as a company. It gave permission for Lego to continue taking risks and innovating, while remembering to work within the culture. And it was the adoption of this concept that made Bionicle such a success. Since then, the franchise has established a vibrant cult following, with fans from all over the world keeping the memory alive with MOCs, fanfiction, and even an entire fan-made video game in development. Yet even with all the enthusiasm for the brand, it's still hard to say whether we'll see Bionicle's return to the Lego roster. There was a brief reboot in 2015 involving a rework of the story and its original characters, but the toyline was short-lived, and is commonly referred to as "Generation 2" of Bionicle. Is it possible it could return? Maybe, but that's not what this story's about. This is about how innovation, collaboration, and a group of passionate people came together and saved a company, all the while creating something truly great in the process. People like Chris Faber, Alistair Swinerton, Greg Farshtey, Bob Thompson, and so many others helped make Bionicle. They came together through unity, were bonded by duty, and as for Bionicle's destiny, well, maybe that's up to us. [00:47:36] Speaker ?: We'll see you next time.