Gai Bosco is an enthusiast and gamification expert, who has designed more than 250 commercial escape rooms. He has also created experiences for organizations, education, museums, etc. And has created escape rooms for TV shows and large special events.
You create escape rooms that are memorable not only for their puzzles but also for their atmosphere. What does your creative process look like — from the initial idea to a fully built room? Do you start with the story, the mechanics, or maybe with a specific climax and build everything else around that?
Well, first of all, as a supplier, I design for others — not for myself — so I can't just create anything that comes to mind. The process always starts with defining the constraints and characteristics of the room together with the client. That includes things like the target audience, spatial constraints and floor plan, budget and build limitations, game mastering conditions, the theme and narrative direction, and so on. Once these are set, I know exactly what I can and can't do — and that’s when I get started. Constraints are actually great for creativity.
So once those boundaries are in place — what comes next?
I usually begin with the basic narrative and backstory. Who are the players? What is their goal, and what’s their motivation to reach it? What’s the general setting and atmosphere of the room?
Do you design the space around that story, or does the room itself suggest some of the design choices?
Next, I look at the physical space I’ve been given and try to figure out what’s the coolest thing I can do with it. How can I make the best possible use of what’s there? Does it have high ceilings? Is there a niche in the corner I can use for something unexpected? How will the space be divided in a way that serves the story and the player experience? At this point, I also usually figure out how the entrance and exit — especially the ending — are going to be presented. That’s often defined before anything else.
When do you start thinking about puzzles and gameplay mechanics?
Only after I’ve divided the room into clearly defined spaces (and possibly defined the entrance and exit), I start designing the flow, mechanics, puzzles, and moments. Some of these ideas might already be floating around in my head from earlier steps, but they often evolve throughout the process. I typically begin at the end of each space and ask myself: "How will the players transition from this area to the next?" That’s my jumping-off point.
That sounds very organic. How do you develop the specific content?
At that stage, I start gathering and writing down as many ideas as I can — puzzles, key moments, special effects, narrative developments — anything that fits thematically with the room. Once I have a large pool of ideas, I begin assigning them to different spaces, moving them around, discarding some, expanding others, adding new ones, removing duplicates, and connecting everything into a flowing experience. Eventually, that leads to a full draft of the room.
How do you test it all?
After the room is built there are of course extensive playtests, as one should do. But during the writing process you can't physically test yet. What I do is I go into my “mind palace” and play the room in my head — multiple times — as if I were different types of teams of varying sizes. I adjust for any flaws I find during this imaginary playthrough. Then the final step is to turn the draft into a proper design document that can be presented to the client. This includes visual references, detailed descriptions, sometimes technical specs, and so on. There’s a lot more I could say about the process — I can talk about it for hours (and I do, when I give talks about design)!
Have you ever created a room where the players reacted in a completely unexpected way? How do you deal with the unpredictability of players — and how does that influence your design?
I’m happy to say that after designing over 250 escape rooms, that kind of thing is extremely rare — almost nonexistent. That’s not just thanks to design experience, but also because of time spent game mastering. After watching thousands of teams play many different games, you start to understand exactly how players behave — how they’ll misuse certain objects, how they might misinterpret something, or what items they’ll try to shove into places they don’t belong.
Do you try to anticipate all those behaviors in advance?
Absolutely. Like I mentioned earlier, part of the design process involves mentally walking through the game in the shoes of all kinds of players — and eliminating anything that might go wrong. The most common issue that still comes up — especially during playtests — is unexpected red herrings. Sometimes, something in the set design distracts players in a way we didn’t anticipate. But those are usually easy fixes.
Your rooms are often described as ‘cinematic’ or even ‘theatrical’. Where do you draw your inspiration from? Is it mostly other art forms like film, literature, or video games — or maybe something more unexpected?
First, let me say the word "inspiration" is tricky, because I always try to be as original as I can. That said, obviously we're all influenced by the things we see and experience. And yeah, I definitely have those lightbulb moments when something I watch sparks an idea. Also — being a huge nerd — I watch a lot of stuff, so inspiration does happen.
Are there any specific mediums that feed into your design sensibilities more than others?
Not literature, honestly. And I don’t play video games all that much — though maybe I should! I’m sure there’s a lot of potential inspiration there. But like you said, people often describe my rooms as “cinematic” or “theatrical,” and yeah — those are the big ones. Films and TV shows are great for inspiration in terms of narrative, world-building, and set design. Stage art — like plays or musicals — really influences how I think about lighting, sound, special effects, and creating powerful real-life moments.
What about less obvious sources? Anything surprising or unconventional?
Maybe it’s not surprising, because it feels obvious to me — but definitely theme park rides, magicians and magic shows, art museums (and other kinds of museums), and immersive installations in general. Honestly, inspiration can come from something as simple as walking through the neighborhood and noticing an interesting texture or architectural detail. Even random viral videos online can spark something — OK GO videos, for example, are a classic. I’m sure Damian Kulash has inspired a whole generation of designers.
These days, many escape rooms are using cutting-edge tech, immersive storytelling, and production values that rival film sets. Do you think the definition of a “good escape room” is changing?
Actually, I don’t think it’s changed that much. I mean, there’s no single definition of what makes an escape room “good,” and that varies depending on the type of player and the kind of experience they’re looking for. A good escape room for families isn’t the same as a good one for hardcore horror fans, for instance.
But surely expectations have evolved, right?
Sure, there are baseline expectations — things like good customer service (before and after the game), professional game mastering, strong atmosphere, engaging puzzles, smooth flow, compelling narrative, and so on. But honestly, those elements have always been part of what makes a room good. There are still rooms out there with amazing tech and sets that fall flat — and others with very basic setups that are incredible. It’s not just about production value.
What's your personal take — your own definition of a "good room"?
For me, it’s simple: a good escape room is one where players come out and say, “I want to play more escape rooms!” That feeling — that’s the real measure of success. And in my opinion, that’s the only definition the industry really needs if it wants to keep growing.
