Resident Evil 2 – Level/Puzzle Design Discussion

April 8th, 2010

resident-evil-2-eye

I’m a bit stumped on how to discuss Resident Evil 2. Make no mistake, this is a fine game and I’d sure as hell like to probe into the design, however, the most attractive part of this title (the construction of puzzle elements) requires micro-level analysis. That is, analysis of pre-supposed routes, the respective associations of the “puzzle pieces”, the ordering of environmental hints and notes, the positioning of safe and danger zones and how all of these parts work together to guide the player. As you can imagine, for me to deconstruct Resident Evil 2 at this level, I’d basically be reverse engineering large chunks of the game and that’s an enormous undertaking. So instead of printing off maps and scribbling all over them, only to share my esoteric analysis, I’ve decided to just talk generally about the puzzle and level design.

The Spencer Estate and Onions

I wish I had a better memory of Resident Evil 3 because of what I can remember it strayed away from the mansion-orientated design pertinent in Resident Evil 0 through to Resident Evil 2. In Resident Evil, the design of the Spencer estate works like an onion. The player remains in a solitary place, peeling off layers of access (via the solving of cryptic puzzles) until they reach the core. The puzzles are designed around exploiting one iteration of the mansion, peeling back a layer, gaining some new items and mining further into new areas or taking their new-found tools and re-applying them to the newest iteration. (Iterations, for example when you leave the mansion to go to the graveyard and come back in, enemy placement is different and you have new tools to use within the environment).

Resident Evil 0 and 2 diverge from this formula, but only a little. A large section (generally close to half) of each title is spent in an area akin to the Spencer estate (the Umbrella Training Facility and the RPD Police Station). This estate is then connected by a linear path to smaller “estates” with fewer layers of puzzle-solving (sewers, factory, water filtration plant, Umbrella labs). Resident Evil 0 and 2 diverge by the way of chopping up the mansion and spreading it out over several interconnected areas.

Resident Evil 3, if I remember correctly, mostly eschewed this design in place of a very fragmented, linear design on the streets of Racoon City. There were a couple of smaller “estates” (the clock tower and the RPD Police Station), but they were much more open-ended. I might be completely off my mark here, but I remember Resident Evil 3 being far more linear than prior games, substituting this freedom in the form of the run or die choices occasionally presented when faced against Nemesis.

Posing the Question of Playability

A few weeks back, I discussed how the Ecliptic Express section preluding the Research Facility at the start of Resident Evil 0 worked as a good tutorial to ease players into the experience. Besides a brief skip through the Racoon City streets at the beginning of the game (part of the only time you actually experience the city outdoors), Resident Evil 2 begins just as Resident Evil did: by dumping you in a large house with riddles to solve—there is no tutorial. On my first play session of Resident Evil 2 though I played for several hours straight, constantly making progress throughout this time and, in fact, only ended my play session because the hours were rolling past midnight. Contrary to Resident Evil where I was frequently drip-fed on a FAQ. I enjoyed Resident Evil 0 and 2 because they made me feel intelligent without sacrificing challenge, however Resident Evil was simply a lesson in frustration. It constantly made me feel stupid. The strange thing is that Resident Evil and Resident Evil 2 both start off on the same foot, design-wise, so how is it that my play experiences were so radically different?

LeonAdaKissing1_lg

To answer the question generally, I think Resident Evil 2 has a much clearer, obvious design than Resident Evil. In Resident Evil 2, the logic puzzles are—surprisingly enough—based on logic. If you have a crank handle, it goes in a hole. If you have a red gem stone, there will only be one spot where putting that gem stone would seem appropriate. If you have materials for explosives, a note will tell you explicitly that if you put those items together you will make a bomb. While not exactly obvious, Resident Evil 2′s puzzles are far from cryptic; they actually give the player a fighting chance at solving the problem for themselves. In Resident Evil, you’re often presented with items which have no context within the areas you’ve just visited (stones, dragon heads) and clues tend to be more confusing than helpful. In contrast, almost every time I found an item in Resident Evil 2, I knew exactly where I could apply that item and if I didn’t, the item was practical enough for me to assume where it could possibly be used later in the game.

Perhaps not even incidentally, Resident Evil and Resident Evil 2 are cryptic and practical, respectively, for good reasons. Resident Evil is cryptic not only because it’s a “remake” of Sweet Home (which had arcane puzzle elements) but also because of the established of George Trevor plot arc. Trevor was intentionally hired to design the mansion on behalf of Umbrella head Ozwell E. Spencer because of his expertise of crafting puzzles, traps and secret doors. Resident Evil 2, on the other hand, is set in a suburban town, so the items available are practical commodity items and the puzzles are thereby more straightforward than the traps Trevor dreamt up.

The other point worth considering is the avenues open to exploration. Both Resident Evil and Resident Evil 2 dump you in a large house and leave you to your own devices. Resident Evil leaves the player stranded with two floors with doorways leading all over the mansion. A gunshot steers the player in the general direction. In the Police Station in Resident Evil 2, access to the higher floors are cut off, there are three doors on the ground floor, one of them is locked and in Leon’s game, a police office lets out a scream which explicitly indicates that the layer best investigate. Once you’ve explored the respective room, you’re locked out, leaving only one other avenue to go down. So it’s very clear where to go next, yet it doesn’t dumb down the experience.

Conclusion

Resident Evil 2 breaks the mansion design into several linearly connected areas and in doing so streamlines the overwhelming nature of the original game. Due to the suburban setting, Resident Evil 2‘s puzzles focus on practicality over arcane mystery and as the crux of the title therefore improves accessibility greatly. Overall then, these factors help make Resident Evil 2 a more user-focused puzzle experience which explain why such a title is so highly regarded.

You know, now that I think about it, if I were a FAQ writer, I probably could have quite easily followed through with my original idea.

Microtransactions: The Inherent Failure Of Natal and Move, and More

April 6th, 2010

playstation-move

Why Natal and Playstation Move will Likely Fail?

I really ought to dedicate more writing space to this topic, but it’s actually a very simple argument.

The reason why the Wii and DS are so successful and why Natal and the Playstation Move will likely fail is entirely software related. Let’s use the Wii and DS as a case study. Technology alone does not sell hardware, software does, software which works in unity with hardware. If there is no good software to give meaning to the hardware, then people will think that the hardware is useless. If there was no Brain Age, Nintendogs, Elite Beat Agents or Zelda: Phantom Hourglass then people would still think that the DS is useless, as they originally did before software proved them wrong. The same is true of the Wii. (Although the Wii is still somewhat draped in cynicism because 3rd parties haven’t stepped up to the plate as they have with the DS).

If it all comes down to the software then what really matters is who is developing games for these things. 1st party-wise Sony’s Eyetoy studio and Microsoft’s weak internal studios (Rare, most likely will constitute the majority of 1st party Natal games for Microsoft) can’t compare to Nintendo’s internal divisions. None of the software demonstrated so far has captured the press in the same way Wii Sports or Brain Training.

On the 3rd party front, if the Wii has had this technology for some years and has a 60+ million install base and is still lacking quality 3rd party games, then I doubt that many 3rd party developers will jump to the technoligcally-similar Playstation Move or the unestablished interface of Natal with an initial install base of zero. The logic behind developing softwae for these system is absent. Furthermore, with a far smaller market to attack, the developers that do succeed will initially struggle to make significant gains. It will take several developers producing several killer applications for these accessories to gain sufficient momentum and remain relevant. Keep in mind that several of the major publishers backing Natal-developed games are already claiming that they’ll only be developing smaller, mass market titles, hardly the type of product which will sell on a system with a shooter-centric image.

Software aside, how do we know that the hardware itself will work? There are still doubts over the lag in Natal and processing power required to handle Natal games. The Playstation Move only allows for 2 player games. Will these peripherals be bundled with game system or games? The systems themselves are already more expensive than the Wii, add in an accessory and pack-in game and that price naturally increases. Above all else, assuming that Microsoft, Sony or their 3rd parties produce fantastic games, the tech works fine and is affordable and retails support the devices, will they be able to market the peripherals effectively? This, is perhaps as challenging as the development of software. How to unlock an audience you’ve never been successful at capture?

It would be quite the monumental feat for either company to successfully meet these all these challenges, so I figure that their chances are pretty slim. The comparison to Nintendo’s phenomenal success is a bit harsh, true, yet similar levels of success, I’d wager, are needed to establish these devices in the market place and keep them going, particularly with competition from two other companies.

In the end I’m just explicating on what everyone already knows “these things will flop without software”.

Judging the Inherent Fun in Controllability

There’s a sort of mental litmus test which I use to evaluate the controllability in games. It’s very simple, and goes something like this: if all the player could do was control the protagonist in an empty space with no distractions, how long would they play for? That is, to what extent is controlling the character fun on its own?

It’s a bit tricky to judge ultimately, because some games feature much more complicated control systems than others, meaning that it’d take longer for someone to exploit one system to its fullest than others, which may in fact be more enjoyable.

For example, Metal Gear Solid 4 and Super Mario Bros. Super Mario Bros is obviously the superior title in terms of controllability, however, I could fiddle around with all of Solid Snake’s ability set for maybe up to a quarter of an hour.

In anycase, it’s worth considering this methodology, because I’ve personally found it quite useful.

Gamers Don’t Want Innovation

Gamers aren’t genuinely interested in innovation, I’d argue. Put simply, human nature says that we’re afraid/dismissive of truly new ideas. This is the reason why we all remain as slaves to capitalism whilst socialist ideology is cast-typed as extremist/fundamentalist. It’s the same reason why the Wii is still subordinated by the hardcore and the enthusiast, despite delivering innovation.

Innovation is only acceptable in small, familiar doses (subversion of the very definition of innovation), such as Borderlands, which recycles two very familiar forms of play. If games truly embraced innovation then the independent scene would reign over the mainstream.

GameFAQ Writers VS Bloggers: The Better Candidate for Criticism

This year I’ve found myself falling into this habit where on completing a game, I’ll snuff out a guide on GameFAQs to acquaint myself with the bonus material and unlocks that I’m probably missing out on. This habit has made me realise that FAQ writers, as expert players, are in the most advantageous position to effectively evaluate game design, leagues ahead of us bloggers.

Expert players, or at least competitive players seek to win, and win effectively. In order to win they must first fully understand the conditions of the ‘win’ state, ie. the operations of play, and then devise the most efficient means to reach these conditions. Seeing past the glossy veneer and interpreting the game as a series of rules is pivotal to their success. The more familiar they are to these rules, the easier it will be for them to reach the ‘win’ state. While ordinary players also go through these processes as well, it’s almost entirely subconscious (this is why we have difficulty in understanding and talking about games). The mind of a competitive player is always working to sharpen their understanding of the rules.

As a result of all this, when it comes to critiquing games, generally speaking, I think hardened players will be at an advantage. Of course, this is all generalities and what I’m really saying is that being competitive spurs people on to think hard about the operations of a game. This doesn’t mean that non-competitive players are bad evaluators. No. These players don’t need to be competitive in order to think hard about games, but rather, being competitive often helps people to really focus in on game design and that when it comes to general conversation about games, competitive players are likely to be the more interesting conversationalists.

Chess or the Mona Lisa – Games as Art

April 3rd, 2010

[This is the first–and most likely last–time that I’ve weighed in on the games as art debate. As with the R 18+ classification issue, the conversation is largely uneventful and uninteresting, so please enjoy my attempt at a no-nonsense approach to this trivial argument.]

The games as art debate hinges on what we believe games should aspire to be: the Mona Lisa or Chess?

The point of contention is that, fundamentally, video games are chess, but with rich enough contexts to border the medium against others which classify as art. The problem is therefore one of definition. Do we grade art on the construction of rule systems or on the contextual and thematic elements?

The answer is obvious; we grade art on the contextual.

Art has always been graded on themes and emotion, which is why chess, even as a perfect piece of game design, doesn’t count as art. In this regard, Super Mario Bros, Doom II or Resident Evil 4 also cannot be considered as art. If chess can’t do it and, lest we forget, chess has been around for hundreds of years, then Super Mario Bros. has no chance either.

So then, under the traditional evaluation of art, any game which triggers an emotion or displays a sense of beauty is art, even if the “game” part (that is, rule system) itself is completely rubbish. The rules don’t really mean as much, so long as there is an expression of creative talent.

I know what you’re thinking “what a load of bullocks!”. Don’t blame me, blame the definition.

A Change in Definition

I believe that video games will spur a change in the definition of art. The “art” side of video games (the contextual; the side which will first be regarded as displaying “creativity” and emotion) will only continue to refine itself and so long as this art is tied to rules, which it will always be, a re-evaluation must occur. Games will become so artistic in the traditional sense, that someone will have to decide what to do about all those rules attached to the supposed art.

Right here is where I think games will be accepted as art. That is, the rule systems attached to the “art” part will be accepted as an important part of the art itself. I imagine that the acceptance of engineering into the art fold will slowly see the definition come to accept beautifully designed rule systems, such as our old friend Chess, as works of art too.

False Idols

As a rationalist interested in the pragmatic side of games (as opposed to the majority of “games criticism” which is mainly fluff), I think that there are huge problems with our current perception of games as art.

It’s all class-based semantics. Art, as with the word culture, has been misused as a denotation of high culture. Those of higher class observe art, while those of lower class play games. Even though Chess’ influence is far stronger and wide reaching than the Mona Lisa’s, Chess is still a game for commoners and is therefore not art. Video games, first typecasted for children and now a part of the low cultural ghetto (hello comics!), are destined to be marginalised because of this stupid word “art”. That is, unless we push for a change in meaning and a breakdown of traditional power structures.

Unfortunately, I don’t think this will ever happen, or at least it could happen, at a snails pace, as games such as Bioshock, Flower and Okami are waved around as the banner titles of video game art. These titles are given a high stature because they intend to construct experience which elicit an emotional response in the traditional sense. And there’s nothing wrong with that, particularly under this new-found interpretation of art which I’ve suggested, where contextually and mechanically beautiful media can co-exist. But it is equally important, if not more so, that we promote Super Mario Bros, Super Metroid, Doom II and Resident Evil 4 as works of art also. If we are to truly shift the perception of this medium we need to attack old perceptions tied to class, with new ideas based on design.

In concluding, I believe that we ought to focus on games as an emerging form of art and not games as conforming to the traditional sense of art. In which case we must crown our idols carefully and promote design as integral to our cause.