Daniel Primed:: Gaming Analysis, Critique and Culture

Link Out (19/3/10)

Daniel — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 02:00:49 +0000

There’s been a few articles circling around in regards to the hopelessness of earning money in the enthusiast press. It’s a pretty sad state of affairs. Information yearns to be free, painting a rather bleak outlook for those professionals. Although the topic has very little to do with me personally, it has made me consider why I put such an effort into a production which offers no monetary rewards.

What I realised after thinking through this question was that money is entirely irrelevant. I’ve become addicted to writing about games, because it’s a form of education. An education that if left absent I’d never feel satisfied with putting a completed game on the shelf. Understanding, or at least an attempt at understanding, has become a pivotal point of my game playing process, and considering that I don’t wish to give up my favourite hobby anytime soon, I feel that the writing will therefore continue.

I guess this is what they call “writing for the passion”. I don’t think of it as a passion though, I write for purely selfish reasons and the fact that you might consider reading this is uhh…cool, so thanks for that! Talking about people who write for the love of it and those who write to survive, I have a killer collection of links to share with you this time. And hey, if they have ads on their website, toss ‘em a bone and click through, I’m sure that it’ll help.

The Death of JRPGs – But Not Really

Kurt makes a strong argument against a contentious Gamasutra post which discussed the now clichéd topic of the death of the JRPG. Kurt lays it straight which is bloody good to hear, considering the number of haters fueling the largely unfounded cynicism. Specifically, his point on the current state of transition in the genre (I would love to read some game-specific case studies explicating on examples of the transition) and the decline of anime in western countries are very interesting and well substantiated.

Racketboy Podcasts

The first time I landed upon Racketboy’s blog I was awestruck at the material on display, loved it. However, this kinda died out in my mind as the articles became a little too formulaic. The 8 or so podcasts that have recently been produced have rekindled my enthusiasm for the website. I’m just so floored by not just the selection of guests, but their appropriacy and the thoughtfulness of the entire production. Some great grassroots retro coverage right here.

An Excitebike World Rally Developer Q&A – Retronauts

There’s been hardly any coverage on the new Excitebike: World Rally title for WiiWare which is quite sad. Thankfully, Jeremy Parish showed the initiative and interviewed some of the key members behind the production. Typically of Parish, there’s some thoughtful questions thrown in and the interview as a whole does a good job at introducing the title. Well worth a read.

The Peak of the ‘Mario’ Franchise – Popmatters

In this post, L.B. Jeffries discusses why Super Mario World is his favourite Mario platformer, referring to the game’s experimental nature, flexibility and devious exploration elements which individualise it from other Mario platformers. Quite a good read.

Bonus Round Episode 402 – The State of the Industry

Jason Rubin freaking gets it. I’ve always enjoyed what Jason has had to say about the games industry and was very pleased to see him back on Bonus Round. This time though there was a bit of confusion regarding his comments made in the second part of the show and he later elaborated on his thoughts via Geoff Keighly’s blog based on angry responses from commenters. I don’t think that Jason needed to supplement what he said on the show with an explanation, it’s quite clear that his comments were washed around with the generalities which the show sometimes takes as given fact (eg. hardcore/casual gaming dichotomy, Wii 3^rd party games not selling). It’s not all bad though, as Jason has started his own blog which is awesome, check it out.

Iwata Asks – Zelda Handheld History

The Iwata Asks interviews is like being given a golden ticket into Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. I’m really digging this stuff! You can find a directory of articles here and the initial Wii interviews here. The interviews have a Japanese feel in that there is an undercurrent emphasis on relationship-natured subjects and the unity of the group. The translation of the interviews are fantastic, accompanied by video and picture footnotes. I encourage that you read them all. The Zelda handheld interviews, which I’ve linked to, are quite interesting. I’m very happy that Iwata addressed the individualism of Zelda: Link’s Awakening and the relationship with Flagship and Capcom with the later titles. Above all else though are included images of design docs for the original Zelda and Super Mario Bros. I guess I’ll leave it at that!

Third Party Puzzle – Eurogamer

I’m just going to quote what I said about this article from Twitter:

Basically good games with strong marketing sell, Nintendo’s presence seems to be an excuse to pass blame for under performing in these areas. Even Nintendo have weak sellers like Battalion Wars 2, Walk with Me, Excitebots, Chibi Robo and Custom Robo – same reasons.

The Carrot On A Stick Approach To Game Design – Siliconera

I’ve been quite fortunate in being able to discuss Zelda and Okami with Ishaan from Siliconera. Ishaan is very astute and has a great knowledge about games. I’m pleased then that our discussion evolved into a post which he wrote for Siliconera. There are a few points that he didn’t mention which I might churn out into an article myself.

Dead Space Extraction – Side Commentaries

Daniel — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 06:41:33 +0000

Fugly Boxart

I bought Dead Space Extraction cheap for $20 and even then I almost regretted buying it. Never have I felt so prompted to go back and refund a game I just bought for the sole reason of offensively bad boxart. Take a look for yourself.

Despite looking blatantly cheap, the horrified woman and the angry dude in the background don’t really resemble the respective characters in the game. In fact, the cover simply fails to represent the high production found in-game. It’s an abomination.

PR Shenanigans

Visceral Games coined the term “guided experience” (or something to that extent) to distinguish Dead Space Extraction from the swath of other rail shooters on the Wii. It kinda reminds me of a similar PR move made recently by Atlus who went to great lengths to separate Shiren the Wander from the association to rougelikes. For those unfamiliar with the term, a roguelike is an ultra niche style/genre of game which bears a likeness to the classic game Rogue. I will throw some links in at the bottom of the article for reference. Anyways, Shiren is clearly a roguelike, yet Atlus wanted to dissociate its game from the genre because roguelikes have a bad connotation. The same can be said for Dead Space Extraction’s PR shenanigans where Visceral are clearly trying to distance themselves from a genre which is seen as derelict in this industry, unfortunately. Although Dead Space Extraction is a very unique rail shooter, it’s still a rail shooter.

Head Spin

People have winged in the past about how these games can be very disorientating as the camera wobbles around. I agree with the complains, it’s true, but you do get use to it and it becomes significantly less of a burden as you adjust. At the same time it makes you sympathetic towards the Japanese who tend to feel motion sickness from playing first person shooters.

Wiimote Speaker Logs

Throughout Dead Space Extraction you can pick up text, sound and video logs. The video logs disrupt the flow of the game as do the text logs. The sound logs though, come through the Wii speaker, and although they only last a few seconds, they do a tremendous job at inserting you into the atmosphere. Probably the best use for the Wiimote’s speaker yet.

Apeing Silent Hill

On completing the first level of the game, a chapter which runs deep with psychological hallucinations, I pondered just how liberally Dead Space ripped from Silent Hill. I guess it’s not really stealing considering that Silent Hill owns that entire psychological horror space, but I just feel that the level preps players up into thinking that the franchise is nothing but a pretender. Fortunately, my perceptions changed over time and Dead Space has its own justifications for all the psychological and religious undertones, all of which will most likely be brought to the forefront in Dead Space 2. Still, the first level genuinely overdoes the visual illusion thing.

Untimely Instructions

Just a little nitpick this one. Quite frequently text cues appear on screen after completing a suggested action which obviously defeats the purpose.

Multicultural Cast

Dead Space Extraction sports a surprisingly varied cast of both males and females coming from a range of different cultural backgrounds. Lexine Murdoch, the female lead, is quite clearly Irish, the protagonist (Nathan McNeill) is American, his gung-ho war buddy seems to be English as does the suspicious Warren Eckhardt. Along the way you also encounter an Indian lady who later becomes a playable character and there’s an American-born-Chinese in the prologue too.

Viewpoints of Many

To coincide with the multicultural cast, Dead Space Extraction places you in the role of several different characters which exposes some personality traits and plot lines not seen through the other members of the cast. It’s a great idea, but isn’t hugely capitalised on in a medium-specific way, since each protagonist plays the same.

Additional Readings

Active Time Babble Roguelike (Episode IX)

@play Column – GameSetWatch

Dead Space Extraction – An Inspired Take on a Conventional Genre

Daniel — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 23:28:03 +0000

Dead Space Extraction is the most progressive of its Wii rail shooter brethren, and probably the most groundbreaking title in the genre in recent memory. The proportioning of gameplay states (which tends to emphasise atmosphere and storytelling) along with a diverse myriad of other mechanics culminate in the realisation of a different breed of rail shooter, one which I think is long over due. As you’ve probably guessed, I’m going to talk about the various points which make Dead Space Extraction unique, however, if you need a refresher, or haven’t yet heard of this title, the video review below lend a hand.

Narrative and Atmosphere

As much as Visceral Games attempts to dissociate their game from the term, Dead Space Extraction is fundamentally a rail shooter. Perhaps a better way to describe it is a rail shooter with lots of narrative and atmosphere. Guesstimating for a second, maybe 40% of the game is purely narrative and atmosphere setting, the 60% is representative of the time you’ll spend shooting at things. That might sound measly, particularly considering the 7 hr length of the main story, but Dead Space Extraction marries the atmosphere, narrative and shooting so well together that each part feels necessary to complete the experience, in turn justifying the excessive amount of passive play time. (And anyways, theres an entirely separate mode which contains nothing but shooting).

Some might interpret this change in agenda as a fundamental change to the genre, but it’s not, structurally there’s just greater padding between the shooting sequences. The re-proportioning does, however, give Dead Space Extraction a unique feel and in fact gives credence to the “guided experience” mantra put forth by EA’s PR folk.

Each of these 3 main gameplay constituents supports and justifies the presence of the others. Since it’s difficult to explain on paper here’s a list of examples to back up my case:

The proportion of shooting sequences increases as the story, and panic therein, progresses
The atmosphere draws the player into the environment which makes the shooting more engrossing and meaningful
The inclusion of a narrative and supporting class of characters add realism and a human element to all the horror and necromorph dismemberment
The narrative and atmosphere setting allows the action to breathe into phases of warming up and cooling down
Since the atmosphere supports the shooting, moments of suspense and jack-in-the-box scares don’t feel cheap, they bleed into the gameplay
Traditional rail shooters are very rigid, every turn of a corner leads to a shoot out, Dead Space Extraction surprises the player with its lack of shooting, shooting therefore becomes more important and suspenseful

Patented Dead Space Elements

Dead Space sported a few nifty mechanics set around the Resident Evil 4-themed framework which splintered the franchise off in its own direction. Fortunately these original elements have been adapted to Dead Space Extraction and work a treat.

Strategic Dismemberment

A real game changer, I think. In the Dead Space games the most effective way to down Necromorphs (the angry, disfigured space mutants) is to blow off their limbs. “Strategic Dismemberment”, as it’s called, adds a new dimension to the traditional shooting formula, since what was once a single main target (head shot) is now shared amongst the limbs. This change allows the individual design of the space mutants to be more meaningfully characteristic. They’re not all zombies, they have limbs in different places, some short, some large, and that affects the traditional method of play greatly.

Paralysis

Paralysis is a supplementary mechanic which supports the dismemberment. As firing holes into your foes’ head (or body) is no longer suffice–instead players needs to bang off several specific parts of the body–targeting requires greater precision than usual, the action therefore needs to slow to support the required boost in precision. The paralysis technique allows the player to temporarily freeze their enemies so that they can dismember with ease. Surprisingly, this little addition breathes a great deal of strategy into the shooting as it’s a finite, self-charging resource which ought to be used tactically. Also, the other Necromorphs tend to que up and wait their turn while one of their buddies is right in your face, so the paralysis allows the player to take control of the pacing of the alien onslaught, it gives them strategic wiggle room.

Grabbing Objects

Many rail shooters have a grabbing mechanic, however Dead Space Extraction does it a little differently. The grabbing mechanic isn’t technically the same as the shooting (place reticle over and fire to pick up an item), but an actual reach into the screen (via some white light super power) followed by the object floating in front of you, think Elebits instead of, say, Resident Evil: Umbrella Chronicles. Although a very simple trick it allows for some nifty applications such as dragging debris, scavenging for items and tossing gas cylinders.

Zero Gravity

Zero gravity sequences are fixed chunks of gameplay which mostly involve no shooting (save for a single boss battle), where the player scans the environment for a predetermined landing area and pushes themselves towards it. Occasionally they’ll need to clear space debris obscuring their path. These sections do a great job at relaxing the pace without withholding the player from interaction.

Alternative Fire

Alt fire isn’t anything particularly new, but Dead Space Extraction puts an interesting spin on the formula. To initiate alternative fire, you simply tilt the Wii mote 90 degrees. With some weapons, the types of fire correspond to the respective Wiimote orientation, for example with the line gun or plasma cutter holding the Wiimote horizontally will send out a horizontal slice, while holding the Wiimote vertically will send out a vertical slice.

Puzzles on Demand

Inter-spliced between the gunplay are small puzzle sections where the main character has to solder wires on a malfunctioning terminal to open a door, refer to the video for reference. Generally speaking, they’re a neat distraction, however at times you’ll be forced to solder wires and fend off an aggressive hoard of Neromorphs at the same time which creates an invariably tense atmosphere when trying to steady your hand. In co-op, each player is assigned mandatory sections wires to solder which keeps things fresh.

Freelook

Another minor trick which Dead Space Extraction employs is the occasional opportunity to freely scan the environment for a designated number of seconds. These brief moments act as preparation for you to nab some equipment before an oncoming series of shootouts. As with the branching paths, this is another way that Dead Space Extraction gives players the freedom of control which is otherwise absent in this genre.

Ripper

The Ripper is a weapon with Turok-like ingenuity, a gun which fires saw blades. Sure. Big deal, right? Well actually, the player can manipulate these saw blades with the Wiimote by reaching into the screen and directing them at alien fodder. I was greatly surprised by this nasty little weapon. Again, please refer to the video to get a clearer impression.

Glow Worms

Glow worms too, are quite inspired. Basically the Ishimura lacks torches, so the engineers instead use glow worms (think glo sticks) for light. You light up the little wormy by shaking the nunchuck.

Conclusion

The final few points are rather self-explanatory and perhaps not worth the effort of writing in words, however, these smaller points combined with the atmosphere, narrative and the Dead Space franchise frills give Dead Space Extraction a distinct flavour. It’s one of those games that feels inspired by good ideas which are cleanly implemented and well thought out, a game which stands as both a great Dead Space game, but also a great rail shooter and narrative experience.

I’ve also been playing Resident Evil: Umbrella Chronicles recently, so please look forward to some writing (possible comparative) on that particular rail shooter. You can also find similar commentaries on Link: Crossbow Training and House of the Dead II and III: Return, if you’re interested. I’m very interested in mapping the current state of the rail shooter, so expect more to come.

Additional Readings

Developer Commentaries – Gametrailers

Dead Space Extraction – Dead Space Wiki

A Distinct Vision: Nick Earl And Visceral Games – Gamasutra

Resident Evil 0 – Varied Inconsistencies

Daniel — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 13:02:18 +0000

There are a couple of odd inconsistencies in Resident Evil 0. It’s a given in this series to expect a crummy plot and wooden characters, but defeating Marcus and the leech queen at the end of the game was disappointing in how irrelevant it was to what I consider to be Resident Evil 0’s core asset, the empathetic relationship between Billy and Rebecca. Resident Evil 0 defeated my expectations by delivering a un-bombastic narrative, a good story. I found myself deeply engrossed in these two characters and their journey as two strangers. They didn’t speak much and nor did they need to as their relationship developed through the pragmatic functions of the game. Including Marcus as a villain feels contrived, as though the series is carrying out it’s duty of upholding the mannequin heroes and villains trope. Continuity-wise he was already accounted for by the in-game journals and notes, there was no need to resurrect him. And overall I feel disappointed that Resident Evil 0’s great narrative was squandered by series ritual.

Marcus, as the deliverer of forced narrative, also detracts from the relationship that I feel the player makes with the environment. This association with ‘place’ is perhaps what people might call the player narrative, it’s difficult to classify since the aforementioned Rebecca-Billy relationship is also probably part of the player narrative too, although it also has fixed narrative from the director. In any case, Resident Evil 0 is a beautiful game. Sure, it may be a little monotone in comparison to Resident Evil Remake, however, I think it’s easy for the player to grow an attachment because it’s so convincing. Admittedly, I am a patch disappointed at the lack of animation gone into the stills (what is there is phenomenal), originally hearing that the stills were much more animated than RE Remake, but what is there pulls the player in with great ease. Marcus, just as before, breaks the relationship a little, we don’t care about him, we care about his estate and the activity that happened around it.

The final, and I guess most obvious, disparity regarding the plot is just the difference between the professional rendering of the environment and the vintage of the gameplay compared to the dialogue. Again, improbable video game nonsense that has the quality of a teenage fan fic, set at ends with the high quality presentation. Similarly, the tank controls and the presentation don’t match either.

Other inconsistencies are well established, like how Resident Evil 0 was marketed as Resident Evil on a train (the Under Siege 2 to accompany my Syphon Filter analogy ^_^), when in fact it’s just the B-sides of Resident Evil Remake. Seriously, the train sequences composes the game’s intro and everything after that is Resident Evil redux, mansions, laboratories and the like.

To conclude my extended commentaries of Resident Evil 0, I figure that it’s worth mentioning the forced sexism imposed by the game since it is a disparity of sorts. This sexism is the justification for the partner zapping system. That is, each protagonist is assigned traits which differentiate them from their partner and therefore forces the player to utilise each characters strengths. These traits can be inferred as sexist, on two levels. The first being that Billy is stronger than Rebecca, both in health and the ability to push large crates, while Rebecca can mix herbs and chemicals. Yeah, that’s pretty blatant in assigning gender stereotypes. The second point is a direct consequence of the first in that since Billy can take more hits, it’s best to use him most of the time since after all this is a game of survival and using the character with the most HP is the the wiser decision. Unfortunately, the unintended—second!—consequence, on top of the first, is that since Billy becomes the default character for tackling enemies he needs to store all the important items, and Rebecca is thereby relegated holding duties. So what is Resident Evil asserting? That women are only good for holding things?

I don’t honestly believe that Resident Evil 0 is sexist, it’s just an interesting observation to make. Theorising for a minute though, I reckon Capcom probably wanted to remedy this issue (not just for sexism’s sake but to keep a balance between the usage of each character) by prescribing Rebecca with her own solo sections without Billy. There’s the first part of the train sequence before they team up, the entire factory area and it’s extremely useful (although not mandatory) to use her for the first floor of the laboratory. Overall, these constitute maybe a quarter of the game, which is pretty significant.

Conclusion

This posts marks the end of my Resident Evil 0 coverage, I also wrote a post 2 years ago on Resident Evil Remake and although it’s shit, maybe you wanna check it out. You know, despite some pretty significant flaws, I really enjoyed Resident Evil 0 as it partly mirrors the atmospheric game of solace I mentioned in The Ideal Prince of Persia. Try it out, I think you’ll dig it.

Resident Evil 0 – Twin Phenomenas

Daniel — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 02:56:18 +0000

In Resident Evil 0 there were two “phenomenas” which occurred during my play time that have no relation to the patented “partner zapping” system.

Calculating Progress by the Inch

Sure, it’s probably no Demon’s Souls, but as a game in tune with survival, Resident Evil 0 sure does make you respect each inch of progress. Because resources are so scarce and the chance of wasting precious resources so opportune, minor developments feel like large triumphs. The fear of stifling one’s progress goes hand in hand with the fear of being scared. What I’m trying to say is that the “survival” and the “horror” sure do go well together. ^_^

This also bears a metaphoric likeness to my personal experiences as a kid and maybe your’s too, that is, if you’re anything like me, ie. big scaredy cat. When you had to get up and leave your room in the middle of the night to go to the toilet, it was a pretty big deal, right? You’ll sit their in bed spooked, because you’re so frightened that you become more observant of the sound around you, and psychologically it takes on an imagined life of its own. Finally, you summon the courage to go, you know that you can’t hold it in, it’s not worth it, so you open your door and run down the hall trying hard not to survey the darkness, otherwise if you stare for too long *insert childhood nightmare* will jump out at you. You finally make it to the toilet, do your business, make the fast escape back to the bedroom, climb into bed and only once under the covers breathe a sigh of relief. Resident Evil 0 sort of reminded me of this experience as a child, in part, it’s a simulation of the experience. You’ll check the map, section out the unexplored areas from the safe zones, plan a route which’ll return you safely to a save point. Just as when I was a kid, anytime I see (think I see) a monster of some sort (I mean, one more dangerous than a common zombie), I’ll flee immediately to the nearest door. You kinda tense up in these moments of running down the hallway, the difference being that one is primal fear and the other is more a fear of survival. Once I return back to base, I usually feel pretty relieved and even though I’ve only walked down the hall and bagged a few new items, I feel impulsed to save my game, to seal that progress in amber. Fortunately I could see what was going on, I could see how Capcom were playing gamers right into their hand, intending for them to needlessly save. I avoided this a lot actually and always found myself throwing away ink ribbons. Take that childhood fears!

As a side note, the route planning aspect I mentioned is very interesting as it matches well with the detective feel to the game, personally speaking, I think it gives the player an independence and I really appreciated that.

Tactical Item Dropping/Littering

The absence of the bottomless item box and the inclusion of a second partner, forms a new phenomena of its own, which I’ll dub “tactical item dropping”, I like the sound of “tactical littering” better, but it doesn’t suggest function so much. Anyways, I digress, tactical item dropping is the phenomena whereby you leave items in the environment based on a strategic purpose. This phenomena isn’t emergent or anything, it’s basically imposed on the player, since the limited 6 item slots per character offer little flexibility. Basically, guns, ammo, health and puzzle items you want to keep with you as much as possible, however, sometimes these pile up, in which case you’ll leave some items and set off to use the others, hopefully returning with free spots in your inventory. The trick is to leave items in “safe zones” so that you won’t have to waste bullets or health retrieving what you’ve left behind later. In many ways, the strategic item dropping enhances the route planning nature of the game and creates a stronger distinction between safe and unsafe areas.This all adds to the co-operative tang to Resident Evil 0.

It sounds a little overbearing and I have no doubt that Resident Evil 0 was strong criticised over it’s strategic item dropping. There’s a great deal of micro-management involved in the process which can be a little burdensome at times, considering how many menu you have to sorta through, however, I rather enjoyed it.

The items that you drop are shown on your map too, which is handy as upon leaving an area as you’ll refer to the map to see what you’ve left behind and discover a sort of tracing of your history based on the trail of items strewn in your path. Each item is indicative of a sacrifice you had to make, so the symbolism here is important.

Additional Readings

Resident Evil 0 – RE Wiki

Resident Evil 0 – Detecting a History of Solace

Daniel — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 02:15:47 +0000

Three ideas were cycling through my mind when playing Resident Evil 0, figured that they’d go well together in a tasty dish. Bon appétit.

Beccy, Billy and Detective Dan

Even though I’ve completed Resident Evil Remake, Resident Evil 3 and other puzzle-heavy adventure games, Resident Evil 0 was the first time I actually felt like a successful detective. (Maybe these aren’t the intents of the Resident Evil games, but it’s certainly something I’ve inferred from playing). With the other Resident Evil games I usually have to drip-feed my way through on a play guide since I struggle to solve all the puzzles by myself. In Resident Evil 0 though, I only consulted a FAQ for trivial matters such as overlooking small details. I’m so pleased with my new-found interest in “detective” gaming and now I want to try out similar titles. I’ve been thinking hard about why Resident Evil 0 was a softer nut to crack and besides simply getting lucky at times, here’s my reasoning:

Resident Evil 0 is very segregated. Sure, the training facility is clearly the largest single area in the game, but each of the 6 self-contained maps are small enough not to be overwhelming, in fact some of them are just short pitstops. The mansion in Resident Evil, on the other hand, is terribly overwhelming. In RE Remake, if you miss one clue then there are plenty of potholes to fall down, but in Resident Evil 0 the options are fewer and therefore it’s easier to remain on track. Resident Evil 0 also begins on the Ecliptic Express which acts as a fantastic tutorial area since there are very few ways to make a wrong move. Resident Evil Remake, however, quite brutally starts you off in an open mansion and every time a new key is discovered the newly available areas are many.

A Slice of History

I think it’s important for us to enjoy a game on its own terms, on what the game is supposing, rather than a fixed set of expectations, hearsay or assumed norms*. As I established in the prior post, Resident Evil is an important part of our history and for this reason I interpret Resident Evil Remake and Resident Evil 0, particularly in a current context (even though I played the GCN version and not the recently released Wii version), as something of a time capsule which has captured a certain style of play, the old-way of doing survival horror, in a very fresh, attractive-looking wrapper. It feels well-worn without suggesting so by the presentation, and that makes it more palatable point of entry for a given slice of our history.

At the same time, Resident Evil 0 is essentially the B-sides of the original game, a classic and that itself quite the companion piece to those wishing to further explore the history of this genre.

*It’s for this reason that 2D games or obscure genres such as shmps or on-rails shooters almost always get panned by critics. Games which involve killing people whilst ripping off hollywood tropes are idealised and other genres are seen as derelict.

Game of Solace

As I discussed in a previous article on Prince of Persia, I’m finding that I prefer games which just shut the hell up when it comes to narrative. I enjoy details being left as implicit and the environment allowing me to become subsumed in the atmosphere. Resident Evil, just like Prince of Persia has the awkward tendency to kill the atmosphere with shit narrative, I just don’t care.

The sad fact is that both of these franchises feature gorgeous environments and atmosphere that I enjoy becoming immersed in. Resident Evil 0 was admittedly one of the closest games I’ve experience to my imagined “Game of Solace”. It was, for once, quiet and allows the player to explore the environment at their own will, without needless interruption. I guess this is why I’m so fond of Resident Evil 0.

Resident Evil 0 – Dissecting Traditional Horror

Daniel — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 14:55:01 +0000

Recently I completed Resident Evil 0 on the Gamecube and have prepared a few articles snuffing out some observations. My primary interests this time around lie in the traditional Resident Evil template (that used in RE 0-3) which I’ll explore in the 2 mini-essays below.

Genre Origins and the Creation of Traditional Horror

The Resident Evil template is ultimately an evolution of the traditional point and click adventure, perhaps the first stage of migration after the genre’s demise from the mainstream. What separates Resident Evil from the genre previously is the inclusion of an entire offensive system, giving Resident Evil more than just a purely investigative, puzzle-solving feel. As with many point-and-click adventures however, Resident Evil’s exploration and shooting mechanics take a back seat, not to narrative though (the narrative is atrocious), but to atmosphere.

The majority of the player’s time in a point-and-click adventure is spent investigating, sifting through for environmental clues and interrogating the locals in pursuit of the next lead. Resident Evil removes the people from the equation, leaving the quiet isolation of the player’s unassuming puzzle solving as the dominate part of the game.

It’s easy to see from here where survival horror comes into play, all we need is a little atmosphere to set the tone. The atmosphere is created largely through soundscapes. Of course, the realism of the pre-rendered backgrounds, particularly those in RE Remake and Resident Evil 0, discomforts the player and the limited supply of items work to suffocate the player, setting a tense mood. Sound, maybe just because it’s more dynamic than the visuals, is the primary director of the experience, it tells the player whether or not they should feel calm or frightened. A prime example of this is in Resident Evil 0’s laboratory area where on the first floor the “tension” music is played in an empty hallway connecting multiple rooms of importance. Although I’m aware that nothing is going to happen (there’s tentacle monster directly downstairs and the music therefore seems misplaced), every time I enter this hallway I feel nervous and rush to the nearest exit.

Some other horror games just stop here, at the preparatory stage, and leave the player hanging with the illusion that horror will occur at some point, most likely when they least expect it. Resident Evil is pretty standard horror, I think, and there are usually two directions where the atmosphere may head, either a climax in tension or a jack-in-a-box scare. On the former, tension crescendos in, in lead-up to a dramatic event which then unfolds and spooks the player; horror which is explicit and affirms the players assumptions (ie. rooms with splatters of blood which leads to other rooms painted in blood, finalising with the source of the killing). The alternative is horror which scares through surprise, where discord is in fact created by the way atmosphere is interrupted by the invasion of a threat. Atmosphere, in regards to music, can be broken by the breaking of a long silence (and damn these games sure are silent, which is why the cheap scares are so effective) or by the clashing of one set of music with another. With this technique, your assumptions that the environment is safe is quickly subverted, leaving you in a panic. Between these two approaches, the build-up and the cheap scare, is variance in the middle, which I don’t think requires much exploration as it’s just a blending of the two aforementioned techniques.

On the whole, the puzzle solving provides the stage for the atmosphere to be set, the limited load-out and item slots along with the realistic visual and soundscapes set a tone where your assumptions can be subverted or affirm in the horror. The effectiveness of the horror is therefore dependent on the developer’s ability to massage the player into psychological states.

Contrasting Traditional and Contemporary Horror

We can learn quite a lot about the way atmosphere is constructed in this traditional mold of survival horror by comparing Resident Evil with similar titles. I choose you Eternal Darkness!

Eternal Darkness is far more dynamic at creating horror since, for one, the game is rendered entirely in 3D, but more importantly the means to horror, the insanity effects, are dependent on the player’s agency. The 3D environment offers more options to create tension than a still, 2D one, and Eternal Darkness capitalises on this, in my opinion, largely through the brilliant camera orientation. Ontop of this the player can shrink, objects can fly around, the player can hallucinate, sound will warp and other strange events will happen in-game; there’s an ample amount of variety. Not only is the horror dynamic, but the jack-in-the-box scares are still viable, and this gives Eternal Darkness a real edge.

With the horror now player-dependent, Silicon Knights forfeit part of their directive control, one would think. The player’s sanity meter drops upon catching sight of a demonic creature, and it’s here where Silicon Knights can regain control through the placement of enemy types within each chapter of gameplay. Silicon Knights can’t ever have total control, mind you, but they can increase the likelihood of the experience unfolding as they intend it. Interestingly, despite all the qualities this system offers, the psychological course run through each chapter is largely identical: a slow crawl building up towards a tightening squeeze of tension, culminating at insanity. A result of this, as with the repeated use of the same environments, is that the horror becomes routine and therefore less effective.

Resident Evil is less sophisticated and highly rigid in comparison, but it does use its assets well. The horror is scripted through cause and effect scenarios, ie. if the player walks to this point or enters an area, dog will jump out of window, music will start playing, zombie will start groaning. Since Resident Evil’s graphics are 3D models over 2D stills, the stills can be more realistic and the models can support an increased number of polygons, as a result the Resident Evil are supremely more convincing and perhaps better at creating a general sense of tension.

Conclusion

Some people seem to get off on criticising the Resident Evil titles, but it’s pretty unfair really. The Resident Evil games are simply representative of a certain style of horror, be it the traditional style of the earlier games or the new mob-horror approach of Resident Evil 4 and 5, and there’s no denying that these games have each served their respective styles well. The future of the franchise (perhaps evident in this upcoming Resident Evil Portable game for the PSP), I think, comes in the series either A) finding new approaches to explore horror in video games or B) reinterpreting the origins and readapting these mechanics into the modern day. I would like to see both, and I certainly think that there is room for both in the franchises’ extended lore.

Additional Readings

Resident Evil Retrospective – GameTrailers

Resident Evil 0 [GC - Beta] – Unseen64

Visual Connection – Graphical Perfectionism

Daniel — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 03:19:23 +0000

I reckon that we need to rethink the way we approach graphics in video games. Rather than increased realism, we need increased perfectionism; visuals which are for all their intents perfect. Creating realistic-looking games only works against the grind of perfect graphics, as the higher the aim for realism, the greater chance there is of landing in the all too familiar uncanny valley.

What do I mean by “perfect graphics” though? Good point. Allow me to illustrate with a list of random games which I personally consider as visually flawless.

Abes Oddysey
Donkey Kong Country
Super Mario Bros.
House of the Dead II
Zelda: Wind Waker
Okami
Super Mario Galaxy
Wipeout HD
Yoshi’s Island
Metal Gear Solid: Ghost Babel
Zuma
Paper Mario
Super Monkey Ball
Wario Land SD
Final Fantasy Tactics
Resident Evil Remake
Metal Slug
Bionic Commando: Rearmed
Valkyria Chronicles

Each of the listed games are artistically beautiful, with no (or incredibly little) imposition from technical limitations. None of the above games can benefit greatly from increased graphical fidelity. In fact, better graphics would probably make House of the Dead II less effective, because it’s a game which ravishes in the graphical constraints. The low resolution textures actually serve to make the world more unappealing.

The graphical direction, that of perfection, seen in the above games are what we ought to be striving for, rather than pidgeonholing ourselves towards realism. Marvel at the screenshots below as examples of this perfection:

Good Video Games and Good Learning Overview

Daniel — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 13:51:58 +0000

After reading a Theory of Fun, many of the principles in James Paul Gee’s Good Video Games and Good Learning are likely already apparent: video games are inherently teachers of their rules and mechanics. In which case, Gee’s book, which further analyses how video games are a powerful education tool, is a fantastic continuing point if you’re a newbie to academic games studies (like me!). Gee explores how video games—or rather the situated learning in which video games offer—can be adapted to a classroom environment and provides thorough analysis of all facets of implementation. If you’re remotely interested in education alongside games then I can’t recommend this book enough.

It’s actually been maybe 6 months since I first read Good Video Games and Good Learning, so some of the core ideas have have meshed in with the words of other authors, but in any case, here are the more interesting ideas covered with my own ideas leveled in for good measure.

Games are Inherently All About Learning

Gee argues that games are deeply rooted in education. After all, games are simply a system of rules (like the laws of the universe) that create a simulation (reality) in which mastery (education) is the intention. Without learning the basic rules, continual practice and eventual mastery one cannot complete a game, unless that game is too easy and therefore unengaging. Therefore, at the heart of every game is education.

Situated Texts

Games are texts (think textbook) in which the player (student) is situated within and the rules (formula) are externalised. In science, sociology, maths and other subjects you learn about the invisible rules which govern your world, in video games, these rules are no longer invisible, but made explicit (think of how rules are embedded into the design of the game world visually, aurally and through agency).

Schools are Giving Kids a Manual and Asking them to Learn

For this point, Gee often discusses his experiences with the first-person RPG Deus Ex, in which he initially read the game’s manual and thought it was too hard. It was dense with information, just like a text book. A glossary of specific terms which are interlinked, a complicated keyboard layout, multifaceted functions which changed depending on certain situations, variables obeying a set criterion. Gee says that he did what any kid would have done and just started playing. Hours later Gee returned to the manual and understood most of its content because he’d learnt by experience. In which case he only needed to use it for reference; the same way a text book ought to be used.

Schools, Gee argues, are giving kids the manuals (text book) and asking them to learn for themselves, in an environment that doesn’t effectively cater to their personal needs and issues (see next heading) where the rules are unclear. In video game, the rules are easy to learn because they’re a part of your experience and if the rules aren’t taught properly, the game isn’t very successful.

Games Provide a Variety of Information in Different Forms Right When the Player Needs it

Gee makes many claims about video games being effective educators and fortunately he provides a wonderful evaluation of the RTS game Rise of Nations to evidence his argument (as a player though, you’ll likely start think of examples yourself as you read). In Rise of Nations, like any well designed game, information is delivered to the player in different forms. Information is delivered visually, aurally and/or through on-screen text cues as the player approaches the exercise. Information is also given based on agency, if the game notices the player is playing incorrectly, they will advise the player on how to play correctly. Furthermore, the player can also consult the physical manual, look online for a guide or engage with external fan sites. This is all unlike a classroom where help is limited and teacher support enqueued up with other students. Video games provide the player with information right when they need it. Instant feedback results in faster, more effective education.

Games are clearly doing something right

Contrast for a moment your experience of learning in school and your experiences of learning within a video game. Games are fun and engaging for players, school is often disliked and unengaging for students. Education is central to both. With this notion in mind, Gee argues that video games are clearly doing something right in which most schools are not, therefore it’s worthwhile to investigate how video games are successful educators.

Passion Communities are superseding traditional education

You’d think that what Gee is advocating is to replace the pen with a controller and the textbook with a video game, however this isn’t it. Video games create an environment which works well for education, Gee is interested in recreating this environment within the classroom. As also explored by Henry Jenkins of MIT, popular culture and the internet actually provide an already existing framework for this new form of education, it’s call passion communities and its education is already exceeding the institutions.

Passion communities are groups of people who have a shared interest and together participate in activities which nurture their interest. Think of any fan site community which produce fan-related material such as graphics, music, translations, writing, podcasts and you get the idea. Many of these communities reside on the internet and maintain very high standards of production (see Convergence Culture for many examples). This blog is part of a passion community, and unlike in school:

I’m aware of what the standard is (I read other blogs too, you know) since it’s set by the community – in school work is kept to oneself and the standard is unknown until you’ve handed up several assignments, the students grope around in the dark in the meantime, producing misguided work
And as part of this I can access and learn from the work of other bloggers (students), including referencing their good work for information – in school, only academics, the teacher or the textbook ever have the correct information
There’s great freedom in the content I produce and the way I produce it (and ultimately the direction I wish to learn), I can focus on a broad range of issues or mine deeply into a single topic – in school you are forced to learn pre-designated material at a pace set by the curriculum
I feel a sense of authorship because of community recognition – in school it is difficult to find recognition because work is not shared
I receive immediate, useful feedback from a group of different people, with different backgrounds through the site or different mediums such as Twitter, MSN, Skype and other networking services – in school there is just a teacher with a grade and maybe half-hearted marking
I can co-operate with other people or work together on a project within a community, I also get to choose who I want to work with – in school this is decided upon by the teacher
Resources are shared and readily available – resources come from the library and only one person can borrow a book at a time
I can reference material anytime I want – at school, referencing only begins in the later years

About adopting a role, learning a doctrine

The question of what we learn in a video game is crucially important and Gee answers this surprisingly well. I mean, how can the rules of God of War stack up to the thoughts of Plato? Gee believes that because we co-author video games, that is, we inherit the avatar while maintaining our own identity, we therefore inherit the respective doctrine that comes from the avatar’s occupation/role.

If I remember correctly, Gee references Supreme Commander, where he discusses the way the game’s mechanics force the player to adopt the principles of a soldier by working as a team and obeying a strict set of playing requisites. This doctrine, Gee says, pertains to all parts of the game, from the way your instruction are given and objectives presented, the realistic graphics and even in the wording of the instruction manual. You are constantly forced to act with the responsibilities of a respectful soldier.

Other titles also teach the doctrine of their avatars. By playing Splinter Cell; you see the world in a series of darkness and light, Resident Evil; in conserving ammo and avoiding danger, Guitar Hero; playing a song accurately and titling the guitar head to be a rock star, Tetris; spatial awareness.

Pleasantly Frustrating

I quickly discussed this concept in DP’s Games Crunch 2009 Part #2. Although, if you’ve played games for any amount of time, you’re probably already familiar with the idea: games that are frustrating because they engage our interest and test our abilities in ways just outside of our reach.

The Education Crisis – India and China

This is quite interesting. As China and India out rote-learn western kids in our current industrial revolution-based education system, we’re presented with a crisis. Innovation in education is the antidote which can keep western countries competitive and this is why a new education system is so important and why video games are worth a look.

Parents and Critical Thinking, the teacher takes role as a mentor

With the internet and all this new software which can provide accurate, precise information instantly, the conventional role of teachers as the possessor of all knowledge just doesn’t work. Teachers can’t beat Wikipedia or Google, education wants to become communal but the system doesn’t allow it. In which case, teachers (and parents too) should act as mentors, facilitating the means for kids to critically engage in their learning.

Conclusion

I think that’s most of it covered, albeit pretty quickly. All the points I’ve made here are explored in great depth and with solid justification in Jim Gee’s book, so I strongly urge you to hunt down a copy of Good Video Games and Good Learning and read it yourself. I have quite strong feelings towards education and this book really hits on some important topics which are worth considering.

Additional Readings

Gee whiz – Brainy Gamer

Questions for Radical Entertainment

Daniel — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 04:12:35 +0000

Ages ago, I was asked to write a series of questions for an interview with Radical Entertainment for Pixel Hunt (yeah, yeah, I know) which unfortunately never eventuated. This was part of a cover feature scrapped at the last minute because of unresponsive PR people, hence the awkward promise of an interview on the front cover.

Radical Entertainment are the developers behind Prototype, the open world PS3/360 adventure released last year. In case you need a reminder, here’s a trailer:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L0hrpf9oSW4

I’m a huge fan of their sleeper hit Hulk: Ultimate Destruction and at the same time was very cynical towards the mindless violence and brutality which seemed to frontline Prototype. The opportunity fell into my lap and as you can imagine, I was pretty ecstatic. Talking directly to the developers, sharing commentaries and analysis is frankly a dream for me. So rather than settle for the standard template which’d allow the developers to act as pseudo PR folk, spruiking their wares (“Tell me about this patented mechanic..”, “How will this patented mechanic make your game better than similarly derrivative titles?”, “Will you be taking it to ‘the next level’“?), I wrote a list of questions which I felt would benefit the readers as much as possible.

You can find the questions below, for your perusal. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll get some answers.

On the Prototype universe/Trans-media Franchising

Video games and comic books have had a rather fruitful history together. Prototype’s protagonist Alex Mercer and his story seems like something taken right out of a comic book. In fact much like Dead Space, Prototype has its own comic book series in production. What do you think of the merging of these two mediums, and how do you think Prototype will continue to expand this relationship?

On the comic book, the first issue is already available, does this make Prototype a video game adaption? How do you guys handle both of these properties?

With both the comic and video game, in a sense it seems like you’re creating a universe, rather than say a conventional game property. Do you think the Prototype universe will continue once the game is released?

Downloadable content is all the rage these days, are the team interested in exploring this option and do you think it’s likely Prototype will feature any?

On Radical Entertainment

Radical Entertainment has produced several successful open-world titles in recent years such as The Incredible Hulk: Ultimate Destruction and Scarface: The World is Yours, how does the team go about finding new ground to cover in the open-world genre?

As someone who thoroughly enjoyed Hulk:UD, I was pleasantly surprised to see how similar the two titles are, particularly in terms of ability sets. This is by no means a negative criticism, Hulk was fantastic, but how do you balance new and borrowed gameplay mechanics?

On the game itself

What I personally enjoyed about Hulk:UD was how the game empowered the player, you felt like you were this green wrecking ball of destruction. Prototype carries the same bad-ass mantra. How do you give the player such a strong sense of empowerment and how will Prototype elevate this feeling from Hulk?

Prototype is the first Radical Entertainment title made exclusively for the next-gen systems. What sort of features are we going to see in Prototype that couldn’t have been done on previous systems?

Interactivity and destruction is a trade mark quality of your titles, how much of Prototype’s world will be destructible?

In the recent story trailer, executive producer Tim Bennison said that the “web of intrigue” narrative system, where players obtain past memories through taking the form of NPCs, plays well to the strengths of interactivity in games. Can you elaborate on this?

In the same trailer, I noticed that the game had this sudden injection of colour, particularly green and red. The original trailers had a very limited colour palette, mostly greys, was this change a conscious design choice or hadn’t we just seen those parts of the game yet?

Violence

Prototype is obviously a very violent, mature-themed title, as developers of adult games are you ever concerned about the implications of markets that haven’t yet adopted an R18+ classification, such as Australia?

On an online podcast, several reporters were airing their concerns about the way Prototype depicts violence and how the people showcasing the game were proud of the glorification of violence. Several of the reporters found it rather distasteful, how do you walk a fine line between cool/disgusting or tasteful/distasteful violence?

Etc.

Prototype has been compared to inFamous (PS3) by Sucker Punch. Coincidentally they’re two open-world, comic-book-inspired titles with parkour elements being released in extremely close proximity. The comparison obviously isn’t fair for either company, but what do you make of their efforts?

—

Do I make a good interviewer folks? >_<

Play Impressions (25/2/10)

Daniel — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 01:37:42 +0000

Geeze, it’s been roughly 6 months since the last Play Impressions article. You can hardly call it a regular feature anymore, can you?

Sonic Rush

The quality of a 2D Sonic game hinges largely on the level design. Controllability and presentation tend not to really matter since the games follow an established template. Level design, on the other hand, is a huge point of contention. The main reason why we still crawl back to our Megadrives (/console of choice) to play the original Sonic the Hedgehog is because the levels are so richly layered with branching paths. Each level was seemingly intended to be enjoyed multiple times over, offering players a great deal of replayability. Furthermore, Sega motivated players to explore by 1) distinguishing alternative paths from the main route and providing a fair window of opportunity/sufficient scaffolding to reach them 2) occasionally slowing down the pace (in cramped areas, for example), giving players room to mine for secrets. Exploration gave Sonic shape and dimension, and is ultimately what propelled him up with the likes of the Mario series.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QeyK4M_vFlY

Sonic Rush is perhaps closer to a series reboot than anything else, since it largely forgoes the exploration elements in replace of high speed spills and thrills. Alright, alright, I lied. Exploration is still present, however it plays the role of rewarding macho, elite players who enjoy rote learning the stages, more than anything else. Sonic Rush is a much faster game than the original Sonic, and unfortunately the means to exploration haven’t been adjusted to match. There are fewer slower-paced exploratory moments in Sonic Rush and the prompts to branching paths (springs boards, jumps, and the race track construction as a whole) zoom by before you even notice them, offering minimal opportunity to diverge. On top of this, the number of huge leaps and dual-screen drops rule out any possibility of backtracking, and the number of branching paths have decreased too. Overall, the frequency and means to exploration are made so narrow, that the point is almost moot and, as a result, Sonic’s original sophistication has been cut to a single dimension (the run fast and be cool one). You see, this Sonic Rush is exclusively about speed, which means that most levels play out like roller coasters, where the best method to success is to hold right on the d-pad and watch the fireworks go off. There are some new moves adapted from the 3D titles as well as mid-air tricks, however, for most holding right and jumping occasionally will prove suffice.

When it’s all done and dusted, this new Sonic is fine, it’s just kinda shallow, I guess. Fans could rightly argue that the new move set replaces the exploration elements and rightly sustains the sophistication, and maybe they’re right. However, there’s only one instance in the game where the new moves are mandatory (World 2, Stage 2) and not enough leg room elsewhere for them to be all that useful, honestly. Actually, I didn’t even realise that these moves existed on my first play through and had no problems, so the mechanics are superfluous in my mind. In anycase, Sonic Rush only validates my comparison to Unirally, by heading further in that direction, and that ain’t half bad.

We Love Katamari

Rolling up a snowball of commodity items to wacky Japanese music certainly has its charm, yet I wonder, how long it’d take before the magic runs dry? Fortunately, we don’t ever get to find out in We Love Katamari as it’s surprisingly varied throughout. This variety in the mission-per-mission gameplay and the overworld of quirky characters wrapping it all together keeps the concept feeling suitably fresh. It’s ironic then that such a repetitive game can feel so new and exciting. I mean, every level requires the player to partake in what is fundamentally the same activity (push giant sticky ball to roll up random objects), yet there’s enough spin on the parameters and gameworld itself that each level, mission, you might say, is prevented from feeling overly familiar. In this regard, Katamari reminds me of Burnout Revenge, where each track/level is re-used multiple times over, sometimes reversed, sometimes with different parameters or objectives, and sometimes you’ll just venture down one of the track’s different routes/shortcuts. The same content is repeatedly farmed for gameplay and you’re primarily doing the same thing, it’s just that the individual approach of each “mission” gives the game a continually new angle.

What bugs me about Katamari is the king and his delusional legion of fans. After almost every level, the king and whoever he has on his shoulder will complain that you didn’t roll a larger katamari. I could deal with this criticism, if not for the fact that it doesn’t necessarily require more skill to roll up more items, just the luck of being in the right place at the right time. Most “skill”, the kind the game is dissing me over, one would think, would come from rote memorisation of the areas most densely populated with roll-upable (?!) goods. In which case, it feels like Katamari is taking cheap shots, which works against the relaxed nature of the game.

–

Irrelevant question on stylisation: if I shorted a title (ie. the original Sonic, Katamari), do I still italise it? :$

GTA:LCS/VCS – Capitalism Allegory

Daniel — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 12:32:06 +0000

It’s seems the harder I squint at GTA’s, please excuse me, f**king terrible storytelling, the more abhorrent and offensive it becomes. There’s a consistent theme though, where your regular, fair-dinkum crook climbs the criminal hierarchy by sucking off his scummy superiors. Perhaps it’s a lesson in power and the people whose inheritance of capital grants them power. In this way, the GTA games could be seen as an allegory for capitalist culture, after all, the radio stations are keen to critique American culture, so it would make logical sense for the narrative to participate also.

In GTA, drugs are the main form of capital. Drugs translate into money which can then be used to buy/facilitate the purchase of more drugs, so basically whoever runs the best drug racket runs the city. You’re goal, beginning from the bottom is to reach the top of the criminal hierarchy. Because GTA’s world is market-driven, you take missions which involve obtaining and securing your capital. Of course, being a game of capitalism, GTA is all about subordination since the weight of power in a capitalist system is akin to a pyramid, where power is held by as fewest people as possible. So, you’re not really obtaining and securing your capital, but the capital of your wanker superiors. (And as an aside, its the flamboyance of these characters which is the bane of my frustration).

Your correspondence between these gate keepers also mimics the capitalist system. You begin as a lowly hitman and climb the ranks, switching to people of continually significant power, until you’re granted a little bit of capital yourself. It’s often at this point where some form of manager steps in to assist in your affairs and the game approaches the final chapters as your connections grant you quick gains.

The most interesting part of GTA’s representation of a capitalist system is the endgame. The GTA narratives conclude only after the protagonist has climbed to the top of the ladder, thereon completing the “game of life”. Toni Cipriani doesn’t simply carry on as a contented hitman or chauffeur. Part of the decision to conclude the narrative at the top of the system is inherent. Games, as programmed creations need an absolute ends, and it’s much easier to justify a position of “maximum” power as the conclusion, rather than simply the contentment of the avatar which the player themselves co-authors.

GTA offers no alternatives to capitalism either, the narrative begins with the protagonist’s submission to a gang leader, the representation of the player’s newfound place at the bottom of the food chain.

Along the way the player is introduced to heroes and victims of the system. The heroes are the drug lords and gang leaders who commission the trade of capital and become the eventual lower rungs. The victims are the rival gangs and syndicates who succumb to the power struggle and the deceased which pave your way forward. It would be remiss of me to forget the real victims, the citizens who become caught up in and around and player’s activities. Most curiously, from my experience—and no, I haven’t played GTA IV—the only time the player’s narrative intersects with the people’s is in Louise Cassidy-Williams subplot in Vice City Stories.

So maybe all of that squinting had resulted in something after all.

GTA:LCS/VCS – Quick Overview

Daniel — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 04:43:38 +0000

Unloved, uninspired, and unsophisticated are three adjectives starting with the “un” prefix which describe my experiences with both GTA: Liberty City Stories and Vice City Stories. The “Stories” games appear to be driven by the intention of “let’s try to get GTA III and GTA: Vice City on the PSP” rather than “let’s try to make a fun GTA game on a handheld”. The latter is akin to the sublime GTA: Chinatown Wars.

The worlds, replicated almost identically to their former games, come pre-established. Sure, open world games have evolved since the original debut of Liberty and Vice City, but the cities themselves are more than adequate to meet the occasion. Plus, they provide nostalgia for continuing fans.

The problems lie in the collision of uninspired, one dimensional mission design and the creaky, aged and underdeveloped subsystems (ie. hand combat, weapons combat, targeting, flying). Missions are simply go-here-do-this affairs which fail to take advantage of the world’s assets, besides the tedious drive to and from missions. Often you’ll fail these missions because of the imprecise combat system or wonky mission guidance which has seen little refinements over its progenitors (possibly downgraded from San Andreas too?).

The issues stem from every corner, and really, if Rockstar were going to re-use the same gameplay circa 2002, then they should have at least designed missions which would work around these issues as much as possible.

I hate to speak so harshly, because ultimately these games appear to have just lacked the essential time or consideration in development, or the developers possibly succumbed to the technological imperative of squeezing the experience on a portable platform and left the rest until later. Surprisingly, the open-ended emergence of GTA’s gameplay works to the game’s benefit. Having trouble shooting an unreasonable number of ethnic bad guys? Find a main road and hitch and car to run them down, buy a rocket launcher prior to the mission or snipe them from afar. The “GTA factor” redeems so much of what’s wrong with these portable iterations. The world is familiar, the gameplay open-ended and the city is still an enjoyable place to chill out. However, even by these standards, both games are filler, there’s simply little reason to go back and explore unless you’re a megafan.

Comparing the two games either side, Liberty City benefits from the iconic and overall better game world, and less exuberant characters, while Vice City has a whole empire building sub-game underlining the main story and longer missions. I personally prefer Liberty City because the city feels less empty and the characters don’t demean you so much.

GTA:LCS/VCS – City Atmosphere

Daniel — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 04:23:55 +0000

For the past month I’ve been blitzing through the PS2 ports of GTA: Liberty City Stories and Vice City Stories. Entertainment is an easily acquired commodity in this modern age, which renders these old-cum-new GTA games closer to filler than enjoyment. I’ll admit. Although they’re still decent, I regret buying Liberty/Vice City Stories, but have learnt a valuable lesson from my bad decision. And hey, it’s not all bad, the low-impact gameplay has allowed me to catch up on a few months worth of podcasts. This is the first of three short articles I’ve written on the duo.

City Atmosphere

I don’t live in the city. I live in an outer suburban area of South Australia. The capital of South Australia is Adelaide. People say that Adelaide is a small “country town”, they’re probably right. Sure, it’s not as exciting as Sydney, nor as cultured as Melbourne, but it’s the place in my head which is synonymous with the word “city”. ‘Adelaide’ connotes all of the feelings I associate with a metropolis, even though it can hardly be considered one itself.

Despite shoddy game design, left, right and centre, I can’t help but look fondly on GTA: Liberty City Stories and Vice City Stories, because they too evoke a sense of ‘Adelaide’ as with the other GTA games I’ve played. The connection isn’t complicated; inhabiting GTA’s virtual cities, with all the freedom and degree of realism that it affords, elicits the feelings of living within a city environment. GTA’s cities share the same responsibilities and dilemmas of any real city, just under the context of a syndicate culture, rather than that of a law-abiding citizen. The two experiences are therefore similar.

Personally speaking, the sense of place is a little different in Vice City; I find it less effective because the setting and time period are less familiar to me. That, and the licensed radio station music (a selection of greatest hits 80’s tracks) are horrible. I guess if I were someone else it might seem nostalgic.

You really can’t underestimate the city atmosphere, it’s the franchise’s main hook, and what ultimately kept me on the line throughout a series of crummy missions and derogatory humour, which we’ll explore in the following post.

Okami Side Commentaries

Daniel — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 13:10:32 +0000

Finally, I’ve said all that I need to say about Okami, and then some. The final scrappy remarks can be found below:

Nonlinear Narrative

The nonlinear storytelling framework famously used in Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, is also used in Okami, albeit, a little bit differently. The basic idea is that the main story is a narration, and at some point the narration ends and another dimension is added to the story through the ensuing events. In Okami, after the credits roll, Issun, the travelling artist, is revealed to be the narrator. Because Issun narrates Okami’s story as well as painting it to scroll, his position after the events of the main storyline are subtly revealed: he takes the place of his father, passing down the story of Amaterasu and teaching the younger sprites of their purpose.

Hour-by-Hour Ratings

After I finished Okami, I looked up a guide to see what secrets were lying under the hood. This play guide by zukowskc at GameFAQs, featured a neat little chart which I though would be worth discussing:

This chart rates each individual hour of Okami’s play length out of ten, effectively mapping out the interest levels of the player over the time of play. I agree with most of the rankings, but more importantly, I love the way zukowskc’s chart outlines the stamina phenomena I described in my prior post.

Backtracking

It’s worth noting that throughout Okami there is a decent amount of backtracking. Fortunately, obstacles requiring brush techniques acquired later in the game are scattered throughout the earlier hub areas, ensuring that backtracking isn’t a time hole, but instead an opportunity to re-approach old areas with new abilities. I discussed this previously in regards to Metroid Prime 3 as well.

Viewtiful Visuals

Stylistically people claim that Okami is unique, I disagree somewhat. In the same way Super Mario Galaxy is an evolution of Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat (and before that Pikmin 2), Okami is an evolution of artistic techniques established in Viewtiful Joe. Many of the same tricks, such as the pre-rendering and cel-shading, are shared amongst both games.

Get me that OST

It only took me a few hours into Okami to decide that I adamantly wanted to buy the original soundtrack. I don’t make a habit of buying video game OSTs, except for my personal favourites and it’s right there where Okami belongs. The music is a mix of Zelda and Final Fantasy Tactics with a nature themeatic.

Back of the Manual

There’s a really genuine explanation of Okami’s cultural origins at the back of the instruction manual which is a really clever, necessary addition on Capcom’s part.

Wrapping Up the Zelda/Okami Comparison

Daniel — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 22:30:30 +0000

With most of the analysis pushed to one side we can finally get down to what you really want to see: a fight off, Okami Vs Zelda: Twilight Princess.

I’m afraid that Gordon Freeman has killed my faith in the democratic system, so instead I’m going to state my views and maybe you can leave a comment, if I let you. ^_^ (No seriously, if you’ve played both games then please do weigh in).

Over a month ago, I made the following statement about Zelda: Twilight Princess in my 2009 wrap-up:

“Zelda for the conservatives, the game you were hoping for was made by Capcom and called Okami, you should go play it. Otherwise, engaging in a familiar way, no one does it better than the best.”

And I definitely stand by my assertion. Zelda: Twilight Princess, whilst a standout game, innovates minutely, intentionally adhering to the traditional formula and visual style as requested by fans. By ditching the principles of the Wind Waker, Link and Nintendo ate their souls, their souls!!

And so I still feel crushed.

Okami is therefore something of a spiritual sequel to Wind Waker, while Twilight Princess is unashamedly the sequel to Ocarina of Time. Okami innovates in areas where one would’ve expected Twilight Princess to. Plus, Issun is my favourite video game character ever, a fact which I only last considered when I was 7 years old (and for reference, Wario was my former favourite character).

And yet “no one does it better than the best”.

It’s ironic then that I actually prefer Zelda: Twilight Princess. Ironic on many levels:

My preference suggests that I’d prefer Ocarina of Time 2 over Wind Waker 2
I’d consider Okami as the game which advances the genre, whereas Twilight Princess is the pinnacle of the Zelda series
I have left-wing political views and am yet vouching for a game which idealises conservatism
I feel that Issun is an invariably better side-kick than Midna, even though majority supports the opposing view
Amaterasu has more personality than (human) Link, even though Ammy is a wolf

As great as Okami is, as I analysed in my prior post, Okami feels so lethargic that it drags the whole experience down. On top of that, Okami cut player morale early on with the confusing fake finale—we’re emotional creatures and Okami’s “betrayl” soured my interest.

Despite my temperament, Zelda: Twilight Princess has only ever worked in win me over, it’s frankly a giant dose of well-iterated comfort food; 60hrs of the most refined and enjoyable adventuring this industry has come to know. Sure, I felt bothered by the tricky roadblocks, but I never felt discontent. Zelda: Twilight Princess is a meal that was both delicious and filling. Okami was also a great meal, but one that filled me up too quickly and burnt my lip.

Zelda, Okami and The Question of Stamina

Daniel — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 00:55:13 +0000

The similarities between Okami and Zelda: Twilight Princess are incredible, to say the least. More so, after you’ve considered the calibre of their developers and the close proximity in which the two games were released. I mean all this from a primarily contextual level, rather than a structural and mechanical level, mind you. The most interesting difference, I’ve found, has been the effect that the 40+ hour journeys leave on their players.

Twilight Princess took me an incredible 62hrs to complete with basically all the side quests completed. Okami took me about 42hrs to complete, with significant portion of the side quests mostly completed too.

Twilight Princess feels appropriately sized. Indeed, it’s a HUGE quest, don’t get me wrong there, but one which can be overcome. Okami’s story, on the other hand, feels like a burden and leaves the player reeling from its lethargic length. The contention is simple: why does Okami’s endearing length work against the player and Twilight Princess‘ not?

The answer is also simple: the Zelda games are tacitly understood as a collection of units, whereas Okami is not (it’s continuous). This makes the Zelda games quantifiable and regimented, in turn making it easier to digest over a long play time, instead of feeling like the Never Ending Story.

Let’s unpack that a little, shall we?

In regards to Okami, what I mean by “continuous” is that Amaterasu follows a stream of connected areas linearly (ie. a river crossing->field->town->castle). The story is malleable, although generally keeps itself within this structure, with scenario’s starting and finishing within their selected area. Now, there is a goal in sight, collect the 13 brush strokes and destroy Orochi, however, brush strokes are sporadically dolled out, front-ended at the start of the game and then only very carefully handed out thereafter; in effect weakening the grip which the celestial brush has over the narrative. Furthermore—and yes, there will be spoilers ahead—the player is deceived into thinking that they’ve defeated Orochi (thereby completing the game), not just once, but twice. The implication of this tomfoolery is that it puts a damper on the rest—and by rest, I mean majority—of the experience, leaving the player with no clear indication on their progression. Personally, I felt left out of the lurch, decidedly distanced from the experience that I was keen to immerse myself in.

One could quite rightly argue that Zelda: Twilight Princess (and Ocarina of Time) also tricks the player, right? Well, yes, they do, however the trick does not allude to the game’s completion, Link doesn’t defeat Gannon at the start of the game, he defeats him at the end, the same cannot be said for Okami.

The initial 10hrs of Zelda:TP and Zelda:OOT are treated as prelude chapters. The end game is unclear and there are many absent spots in the player’s inventory, so the player suspects the game to open up at some time, but is uncertain. Zelda’s “gotcha moment” therefore works successfully then because:

It confirms the player’s suspicions, thereby making them feel intelligent
Establishes where the end game lies
Since the player has already completed 3 dungeons, an understanding of length is formed
In which case, the reveal more than likely will surprise the player since they have an understanding that another 8 dungeons equates to X amount of play time (ie. a lot)

More to the original point though, the Zelda games are laid out in units. For example, all of the questing and dungeon lurking required to restore Zora’s Domain can be treated as one unit of gameplay. Usually on completion of a unit, the player is reward with one of X number of collectables required to unlock the endgame. A field in the middle of the map indiscriminately connects the units which are presented in the form of various elemental/ethnic-themed areas. Although the world appears open-ended, the journey is linear (excluding Oracle of Ages) since the tools required to enter the some “units” cannot be gained until other ones are first completed. Dungeons, the highlight of each gameplay unit, provides a new piece of inventory which then become tutorialised and effectively mastered by the time the player downs the boss.

Zelda’s aforementioned structure works the player into a familiar routine which consists of visiting each area one-by-one, mastering the dungeon and gaining new inventory until they make a set of gems/stones/Triforce pieces. This systems, one that has been beaten into our brains, for some since childhood, overtly states progression. Progression is simply the number of gems you have contrasted against the number you don’t, a fact presented to the player every time the game is paused.

Okami’s world, due to Zelda’s influential progression system, feels uneven. As a Zelda player, I break Okami’s world into units, and am therefore trained to be systematically rewarded with new abilities after completing a set unit of gameplay. My problem, and the one which has resulted in so many players not seeing Okami through to its eventual end, is that often doesn’t reward players who are trained to be rewarded after certain intervals of play, only adding to the disdain left after the Orochi disillusion.

Furthermore, because Okami’s ability set is mostly channelled through the celestial brush, upgrades can feel unsubstantial, further adding to the disappointment. Instead of a hookshot or a bow, you can draw a line which makes water fountain into platforms in select areas. Surprisingly, as the example suggests, the upgrades becomes increasingly one-dimensional as you progress.

The majority side quests too are collectathons which is why I didn’t bother pursuing them to completion, unlike Zelda’s extra curricula activities, most of which involve investigation and use of the various equipment.

Conclusion

Zelda’s rigid progression structure enforces a regimented, predictable rhythm of play which keeps the player’s progression conscious, unlike Okami which follows a continuous structure where progression is uncertain. As a result, Zelda: Twilight Princess, with its massive 60+hrs of play, seems beatable, piece by piece, whereas Okami’s adventure seems to just continue with no end in sight, causing players to drop off.

This fundamental difference, one of stamina, is what I’d consider to be the strongest point which impacts on the player’s own experience with either game.

Defining Okami’s Individualism Part #2

Daniel — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 23:37:02 +0000

In the last exciting episode I began discussing some of the structural aspects which differentiate Okami from other games. This time I will continue the discussion, including the points which you probably expected would headline the previous article.

Lack of Road blocks

Zelda: Twilight Princess really threw me with its momentum. I started the game back on release in 2006, got stuck with the initial fishing mini-game (I’m still somewhat clueless, even though I’ve caught many a fish since) and settled for Red Steel instead. I returned in early 2007 and found myself regrettably stuck in the first dungeon. I left Twilight Princess until about 2008, where I’d made some leeway, pushing through another 6 hours of gameplay before being unable to defrost Zora’s domain. I scoured the land high and low and was still stuck, so I waited another year, 2009 by this stage, and after finally consulting a guide, the random, esoteric solution became clear. From there on out I kept working until Twilight Princess was beat. Often, during the final slog, I’d still find myself stuck again and again, thankfully the occasional dependence on a trusty guide helped me through.

Although Twilight Princess is supremely designed, these bumps in the road were large enough to keep me away for long amounts of time.

Okami is rarely like this. The path ahead is always clear. A large part of it is due to the reduction of challenge and open-endedness. Okami’s segregated overworld narrows the opportunity to diverge down the wrong path. The dungeons too appear open-ended, but in truth are entirely linear. Okami also features fewer puzzles and rarely any that extend beyond a single room.

There’s a reason why the player feels as though they’re constantly making the right choice, it’s because Okami offers only one, while presenting the illusion of many. Hence my natural tendency to compare Okami to Zelda, when in fact Zelda achieves what Okami only alludes. As such, Okami is a very accessible adventure, yet at the same time makes the player feel satisfied.

Celestial Brush and the Environment

The beauty of the celestial brush is two fold. Firstly, the celestial brush ties the player’s actions to the environment in a meaningful manner which evokes positive feelings from the kinship displayed. Secondly, it streamlines the ability/inventory systems of games such as Zelda, by channeling all abilities through the single use of the celestial brush.

Through the celestial brush the player co-authors not just the avatar, but the environment too, which is pretty revolutionary. The player’s interaction with the game world is presented tangibly through the transformation of their surrounding environment into a much more appealing one, and therefore feels meaningful. Furthermore, the onus of this system rest on a singularly more favourable kind of player input, drawing, rather than being spread across an inventory of equipment.

Graphical Style

Being the visual embodiment of Okami’s innovations, it’s understandable why people discuss thick-outlines and thatched patterns before they mention the gameplay itself, however, as my ordering supposes, I consider the other points, that of structural and mechanical divergences, to be considerably more important.

From my judgment, game enthusiasts seem rightly sceptical of cel-shading. You can’t really blame them considering the Cel Damages which abuse what the style connotes by using it without artistic purpose. When cel-shading is used purposefully though, be it stylistically, such as in Jet Set Radio or for facial expression and character establishment as in Zelda: Wind Waker, we’re usually quite content, if not thrilled. Okami’s cel-shaded environment, alongside the thatching and line work are such an integral part of Okami’s cultural authenticity and so deeply attached to the context, that we can’t help but adore it. Okami is probably the truest use of the technique yet.

The visual direction furthermore intertwines itself with the celestial brush mechanic, by highlighting the status of the environment, pinpointing the trouble spots needing subsequent strokes and then rewarding the player with an accentuated beauty.

Punchy Dialogue

Not much to add to the headline, Okami is densely packed with well written dialogue, in contrast to the majority of games which are poorly written. Unlike the Paper Mario/Mario and Luigi series, the dialogue itself isn’t ultra stylised (and sometimes difficult to read), rather every sentence has a minor word, expression or style which adds flavour to the text as a whole.

Level of Polish

What I think surprises many people about Okami is that it genuinely doesn’t ever let up. Every form of gameplay that Okami has you participate in is untechnical and enjoyable with a high degree of polish. Every character is distinct and memorable, each with multiple layers in which to interest you. Some characters I liked for their perky dialogue, some for their character designs and others for their ultra cute, garbled voice. There isn’t a single part of the game which is incomplete or requires additional iteration. Okami is a champion against the “we’ll fix it in the sequel” attitude which is permeating throughout the industry.

Conclusion

Okami’s RPG/adventure gameplay has been claimed to be “Zelda-inspired”, and loosely speaking, one can claim that the two games have a similar sense about that. However, as evidenced over our eight points of argument, the fundamental differences, most crucially that of the overworld and ability/skills systems, differentiate Okami vastly from Zelda and in fact many other RPGs for that matter.

Next time we shall explore how these differences affect the player’s experience over these 40hr-long epics. If you’ve completed both of these games, I think that the analysis shall prove worthwhile.

Additional Reading

Three Artists in Okami – Versus CluClu Land

Defining Okami’s Individualism Part #1

Daniel — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 07:13:34 +0000

[Okami's massive 40+ hour play time is the sole reason for the lack of game-related posts on here in recent weeks. I always begin writing after I've finished a game and Okami's enduring length over the past several months has forced me to continually postpone my writing. However, I think it's been well worth it as I have a slew of analysis lined up.]

If you’re unfamiliar with Okami, or just need a refresher, then the video below should prepare you for the analysis (further below) as well as the other articles which’ll follow in the coming days. For interest’s sake, I played the PS2 version.

Personally speaking, many of my favourite games are titles which take an established formula, particularly formula of a traditional vintage, and restructure it to create an experience which feels both reminiscent and refreshing. An obvious and very literal example of such a game is Grand Theft Auto: Chinatown Wars. GTA:CW readapts the overhead 2D gameplay from GTA and GTA2 to the DS platform as well as fitting the formula with the modern design amenities which have developed out of the 3D titles. A less explicit example is Metroid Prime, which forwent the platforming genre whilst keeping exploration, the series’ most defining element, at the root of the experience. It takes an astute team of developers to understand what made the essence of the original subject matter (series, genre, approach) so special and then reinterpret this essence into a new format.

Okami, as you’ve probably guessed, is this type of game. Okami takes the established Zelda framework and tailors it in a way which feels new and exciting. To simply label Okami as a Zelda-styled adventure is probably a bit discrediting, as its divergences are what contribute to the game’s excellence. Let’s take a look at the way Okami separates itself, not just from Zelda, but from the established norm, as it’s here where Okami flourishes.

Movement

Being a wolf, Amaterasu moves faster than humans and therefore faster than most other video game characters (particularly in the RPG genre). Amaterasu’s speed is somewhere between the average speed of a car and a human walk, which is a little unusual for video games by virtue of the fact that either of those two ends tend to act as the avatar, rather than a middle point.

One could argue that Amaterasu has a strong likeness in movement to Epona, Link’s horse from the Zelda series. However, Epona functionally plays the same role as a vehicle. She is peripheral, whereas, Amaterasu alone achieves both the function of Link (slower, more refined movement) and Epona (a fast sprint for quicker travel). So, just from the standpoint of movement, Amaterasu is a very unique character.

Division and Dynamic of the Overworld

Okami’s overworld, the land of Nippon, is broken apart into a series of smaller hub areas, rather than being contained within a single overworld. As we’ve learnt from the past 13 years of Zelda titles, a single, sparsely populated overworld, be it a field or an ocean, only increases the time of low player participation*. The segregation of Nippon into a series of smaller hubs therefore creates a different dynamic for these isolated areas. Firstly, on a technical level, more data can be rendered into a smaller area, allowing the developers to fill each hub more densely with interesting stuff like environment, characters and activities. Secondly, on a spatial level, the more confined space cuts the travel time between towns and other areas of interest, this is accommodated by Amaterasu’s fast-paced sprint. As a result, time spent in the overworld is not downtime, but rather a time for the player to engage in the abundance of choice that the Okami offers them.

More Killer Less Filler

The amount of time and obligation required to attend to these aforementioned activities (those tangental to the main quest), offer the player different degrees of engagement. Players can spend a few minutes fixing up the environment with their celestial brush or spend much longer hunting down collectables or partaking in mini-games.

The great thing about Okami is that everywhere (not just in the “overworld”) is full of these microcosms of activity. This is predominately served by the celestial brush which can heal various parts of the environment, but also the incredible number of collectables such a ornaments, stray beads, fish, dojo scrolls…the list is rather extensive, and as discussed in The New Gamer, it can sometimes feel like you’re gorging on excess.

What this means is that every inch of land in Okami is dense with gameplay, unlike in the majority of other games where the landscape is not a harvester for gameplay, instead often playing a meaningless, passive role, ie. Uncharted.

*Before you mention it, I am aware that Zelda:Twilight Princess‘ main overworld is split into several small hubs, however this appears to be so for technical reasoning, rather than functional. The overworlds between the two games are very different.

Additional Readings

Leap of Faith – 1UP Okami Cover Story

‘Giving the Context’

Daniel — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 12:59:34 +0000

When writing any sort of game evaluation (preview, review, analysis piece, critique, etc.), the writer begins by explaining how the game works or what happens in the game. This is what I’ll call ‘giving the context’. As much as ‘giving the context’ is an essential component for this type of writing, it’s often the least interesting part of the article for both reader and writer. Sadly, the majority of evaluative articles consist almost entirely of context and share little insight with the reader. This is why we often moan so loudly over reviews; the reviewers rarely justify their comments with explanation and the readers therefore become suspicious. (Alternatively, the readers don’t read and become suspicious anyways).

The reason why context is boring to read falls in line with similar comments made by Jim Gee in his book Good Games and Good Learning. Players don’t learn how to play a game by reading the instruction manual—no one ever looks at the manual if they can help it, they just jump straight in. People learn the rules of a game not by reading about it, but by playing. Reading an instruction manual or game review in the pursuit of understanding the operation of a game is counterproductive, because it’s difficult to learn anything through static text alone.

I’m sure that you’ve probably met this frustration before, most likely through school, but more to the point, after reading a review and yet still not understanding the fundamental rules of a game, let alone why it’s good or bad or is worthy of your green paper. (Perhaps this is why video reviews are now so popular; they inherently provide continuous context throughout the review). I’ve certainly felt this way many times, just recently after reading several reviews on Bioware’s two most recent games: Dragon Age Origins and Mass Effect 2, I still have no grasp on the core gameplay, particularly in Dragon Age. I think it’s about time I ought to just play the games for myself.

Personally, I believe that as writers it’s our job to make this mandatory part of the job as quick and effective as possible, so that we can get down to the business of giving meaning to the game through our critique, analysis and observations.

Anyone can—and does—write the synopsis of a plot or explain what happens in a game, provided that you’re a sound writer, giving context is pretty easy, analysis, however, is the most difficult part of the job which is why analysis it’s often the part which is most lacking. Therefore, the great majority of games writing serves very little purpose beyond condensing manuals or expanding PR bullet points into sentences, because that’s what naturally comes easiest.

On an side, I think this also explains why it’s difficult to have an engaging conversation with other people about games. Good games discussion requires one of two things, preferably both: 1) shared knowledge of context and evaluation (hopefully at a rather deep level) 2) the mutual patience required to listen to someone explain a complicated rule system to you through spoken language and then evaluate the rule system. It’s really tricky, as I’m sure you all know which is why most discussion amounts to “wasn’t it cool when…”.

One of my goals this year is to trim down the amount of context in my ‘Game Discussion’ articles. Of course, I want it to remain sufficient, just in fewer words, if possible. So as a footnote to this article, I’ve written a list of measures which I hope to adopt in my future writing, this may also be useful for you too as either a critical reader or a writer. If you have any further suggestions, I’d be happy to hear them, so please leave a comment in the box below:

Use as few words as possible to convey as much information as possible.
KISS ? Keep it simple stupid, people have to make sense of what you’re saying, try to stay away from esoteric or abstract language.
Use language (particularly verbs) which stylise mechanics and other integral parts of the game which can easily be stylised. These improve readability and understanding, and also make the writing more palatable.
Or if you can’t do the above, make up your own verb to describe an action rather than continuously using 3-4 words to describe a single action or event. This avoids repetition.
If there is a similar game or gameplay style which is adapted into your game then refer to it. eg. Gears of War style shooters, Geometry Wars clone.
Be specific and accurate. Saying ‘an arena shooter’ saves on having to explain that it’s a shoot ‘em up in a box.
Use images and video of the gameplay itself. This is the easiest method for setting context. If you’re going to jump straight into analysis, assuming that the audience is already immersed in the game, then maybe a video review from Youtube or Gametrailers would prove useful.
Dot points or diagrams are also a great idea Critical Gaming is a wonderful example of this technique, and in fact is the ideal example of a context-minimal, analysis-rich blog.