Unsure of where the praise for the writing comes from. In truth, it never exceeds Capcom quality horror-cheese, but, those games have never bothered me too much anyway so it isn't a real complaint. In most other ways, it ends up aping the RE4 formula for its action horror pacing and atmosphere. The plots of the two games couldn't be more different, but RE4 worked for its combination of elements and pacing that made the campaign such an epic experience, and that's what Alan Wake absolutely nails. The atmosphere and pacing urge you on to the next setpiece, the next shoot'em'up encounter, the next plot point, without fail. As I said, neither of these games excelled in plot or writing, at all, but in the shape of the game--the way it is paced and the way the characters move through it--it urges the player to the conclusion with ferocity.
And I'm probably being harder than necessary on the writing--there's more than a few smile-worthy jokes, and Barry, Alan's agent, is hilarious to be sure. But most of the positives undermine the basic thematic presence the game's spent so much time building up. It will delight you in its action and innovations and nuances, but the dead-on seriousness of the titular character and his plight deadens the whole enterprise.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Ninja Theory -- Why Their Games *Work*
With the release of DmC a few months behind us, and its sales pitiful, I believe it's time for a little retrospection. Namely: WHAT THE FUCK?
I know I shouldn't be upset. Good games fail all the time. It's easily more likely that a good game will fail than a mediocre, catch-all big budget title, right? Not any-fucking-more. Dead Space 3 clears millions of sales and it doesn't matter. Tomb Raider, Hitman, and Sleeping Dogs for Squeenix? Same thing. I wish I had a better understanding of the disease, rather than just numerous examples of its symptoms. We're getting more and more bloated titles as publishers try to claw their way out of a grave dug by their shareholders. We're getting less and less subtlety, nuance, and innovation.
That's why I'd rather talk about Ninja Theory, and why they're doing it right. In terms of game design anyway. They couldn't make their money back on DmC, and I don't even think Enslaved or Heavenly Sword was much of a financial success either. Come to think of it, how the hell are people still paying them to make games? Whatever the reason, I'm incredibly grateful.
I've often described games as whack-a-mole with a beautiful canvas oil painting wrapped around it. Every game essentially transitions between those two mediums. Sometimes, we're admiring the beauty of its art and composition. Then, suddenly, we're asked to ignore all of that and shoot people in the head or chop monsters to death with medieval weaponry. I think only a very few IPs have managed to transcend this property into an experience in which the fact that it's a VIDEOGAME truly enriches the artistic experience, rather than just diverting our attention to it and then away from it. Half Life is one such IP, as do I believe to be Bioshock. I notice they're both first person shooters, and I wish I could easily call an example from another genre, but it isn't coming to me.
However, that isn't what I'd like to talk about. I'm not interested, today, in which IPs are pushing the boundaries of what our new, infantile medium can accomplish. I'm interested in which IPs are the best paintings wrapped around whack-a-moles.
Perhaps I'm biased. I favor good writing over a lot of other qualities in videogames. This makes me somewhat of a minority. People talk and talk about the importance of "gameplay", and it all sounds pretty silly to me. I've played a lot of games. I'm good at a lot of games. Jumping around Mushroom Kingdom, killing people in God of War, playing multiplayer in Black Ops, setting up raids and dungeons in World of Warcraft, organizing my battle plans in Dragon Age: Origins, adventuring through Midgar and whatever the hell the names of the worlds of all the Tales Of games are. Sure, all of that stuff is fun, but MAN oh MAN does it not mean a single thing of emotional relevance. It's me pressing square over and over. And over. Sure, my input is more favorably rewarded when I press square twice, pause, press square twice again and then hold triangle. But what does this add to the artistic experience? It is almost like the videogame equivalent of death metal or prog rock -- a lot of math, but a little soul. It's about the power of input, and the way our brains interpret that as power. Input and output, that's the essence of anything we do. These games I'm describing are artistic in a mechanical sense -- the beauty of intellect based competition against another real, human opponent is a vastly rewarding thing (a multiplayer shooter), or the satisfaction in rounding up a great group of enemies and pinning every single one with your fire magic (God of War). Those are artistic experiences, because I've had to manipulate and calculate the system in a human, emotional way. It's by default; every room in a videogame is essentially a small brain teaser: how do I get to the next room? Yes, it's fun. Yes, I want games like this to exist and continue to exist. But I want them to have good writing. In a great novel or film (even the mediocre ones, really), there is contextualization to every bit of violence and every dramatic development. Not so in videogames. In videogames, you kill things because there has to be things for you to kill. In videogames, you progress through the plot because there is something you need to acquire or kill before you can acquire or kill the thing you really need to acquire or kill.
This is also why I think the recent debate about Bioshock Infinite's level of violence is utterly, completely, ridiculous. Not necessarily because I disagree with the notion that videogame violence is hyperbolized to a senseless degree -- quite the opposite -- but to argue that about such a brilliant game when literally every other game ever made suffers from the same dissonance is ludicrous.
Ninja Theory does its absolute damndest to break that trend, and they never, ever have. But that's not what is important -- what's important is the ambition and the effort, and the ways in which those pay off. Yes, their games are action games. Yes, you are forced to intermittently pause in every corridor or open space and fight five or six mechs/demons/ancient swordsmen. Yes, their games are nothing more than whack-a-mole with a beautiful canvas oil painting wrapped around it, but damn it, they write them so well and give such care to contextualizing where the player is in the story, and why he should care about it, that it makes for such a greater experience. Enslaved is a soft, beautifully told story about the nature of technological advancement and its role in free will. DmC is a slick action/horror adventure in which the hero must wade through Limbo to discover the truth about his past. The latter still sounds a bit generic, but in the presentation, visuals, and characters, DmC knocks it out of the park.
I would assume Alex Garland's influence over the studio has had a big hand in its consistent care towards its stories. He wrote Heavenly Sword, Enslaved, and was "story supervisor" for DmC, whatever the hell that means. He's also written some of my favorite films, so again, I could be biased. What's clear is that he has a strong mind for action-heavy, character focused adventure stories, and if you haven't noticed, most videogames fall straight into that category.
Anyway, Ninja Theory rules. Buy their FUCKING GAME NEXT TIME.
I know I shouldn't be upset. Good games fail all the time. It's easily more likely that a good game will fail than a mediocre, catch-all big budget title, right? Not any-fucking-more. Dead Space 3 clears millions of sales and it doesn't matter. Tomb Raider, Hitman, and Sleeping Dogs for Squeenix? Same thing. I wish I had a better understanding of the disease, rather than just numerous examples of its symptoms. We're getting more and more bloated titles as publishers try to claw their way out of a grave dug by their shareholders. We're getting less and less subtlety, nuance, and innovation.
That's why I'd rather talk about Ninja Theory, and why they're doing it right. In terms of game design anyway. They couldn't make their money back on DmC, and I don't even think Enslaved or Heavenly Sword was much of a financial success either. Come to think of it, how the hell are people still paying them to make games? Whatever the reason, I'm incredibly grateful.
I've often described games as whack-a-mole with a beautiful canvas oil painting wrapped around it. Every game essentially transitions between those two mediums. Sometimes, we're admiring the beauty of its art and composition. Then, suddenly, we're asked to ignore all of that and shoot people in the head or chop monsters to death with medieval weaponry. I think only a very few IPs have managed to transcend this property into an experience in which the fact that it's a VIDEOGAME truly enriches the artistic experience, rather than just diverting our attention to it and then away from it. Half Life is one such IP, as do I believe to be Bioshock. I notice they're both first person shooters, and I wish I could easily call an example from another genre, but it isn't coming to me.
However, that isn't what I'd like to talk about. I'm not interested, today, in which IPs are pushing the boundaries of what our new, infantile medium can accomplish. I'm interested in which IPs are the best paintings wrapped around whack-a-moles.
Perhaps I'm biased. I favor good writing over a lot of other qualities in videogames. This makes me somewhat of a minority. People talk and talk about the importance of "gameplay", and it all sounds pretty silly to me. I've played a lot of games. I'm good at a lot of games. Jumping around Mushroom Kingdom, killing people in God of War, playing multiplayer in Black Ops, setting up raids and dungeons in World of Warcraft, organizing my battle plans in Dragon Age: Origins, adventuring through Midgar and whatever the hell the names of the worlds of all the Tales Of games are. Sure, all of that stuff is fun, but MAN oh MAN does it not mean a single thing of emotional relevance. It's me pressing square over and over. And over. Sure, my input is more favorably rewarded when I press square twice, pause, press square twice again and then hold triangle. But what does this add to the artistic experience? It is almost like the videogame equivalent of death metal or prog rock -- a lot of math, but a little soul. It's about the power of input, and the way our brains interpret that as power. Input and output, that's the essence of anything we do. These games I'm describing are artistic in a mechanical sense -- the beauty of intellect based competition against another real, human opponent is a vastly rewarding thing (a multiplayer shooter), or the satisfaction in rounding up a great group of enemies and pinning every single one with your fire magic (God of War). Those are artistic experiences, because I've had to manipulate and calculate the system in a human, emotional way. It's by default; every room in a videogame is essentially a small brain teaser: how do I get to the next room? Yes, it's fun. Yes, I want games like this to exist and continue to exist. But I want them to have good writing. In a great novel or film (even the mediocre ones, really), there is contextualization to every bit of violence and every dramatic development. Not so in videogames. In videogames, you kill things because there has to be things for you to kill. In videogames, you progress through the plot because there is something you need to acquire or kill before you can acquire or kill the thing you really need to acquire or kill.
This is also why I think the recent debate about Bioshock Infinite's level of violence is utterly, completely, ridiculous. Not necessarily because I disagree with the notion that videogame violence is hyperbolized to a senseless degree -- quite the opposite -- but to argue that about such a brilliant game when literally every other game ever made suffers from the same dissonance is ludicrous.
Ninja Theory does its absolute damndest to break that trend, and they never, ever have. But that's not what is important -- what's important is the ambition and the effort, and the ways in which those pay off. Yes, their games are action games. Yes, you are forced to intermittently pause in every corridor or open space and fight five or six mechs/demons/ancient swordsmen. Yes, their games are nothing more than whack-a-mole with a beautiful canvas oil painting wrapped around it, but damn it, they write them so well and give such care to contextualizing where the player is in the story, and why he should care about it, that it makes for such a greater experience. Enslaved is a soft, beautifully told story about the nature of technological advancement and its role in free will. DmC is a slick action/horror adventure in which the hero must wade through Limbo to discover the truth about his past. The latter still sounds a bit generic, but in the presentation, visuals, and characters, DmC knocks it out of the park.
I would assume Alex Garland's influence over the studio has had a big hand in its consistent care towards its stories. He wrote Heavenly Sword, Enslaved, and was "story supervisor" for DmC, whatever the hell that means. He's also written some of my favorite films, so again, I could be biased. What's clear is that he has a strong mind for action-heavy, character focused adventure stories, and if you haven't noticed, most videogames fall straight into that category.
Anyway, Ninja Theory rules. Buy their FUCKING GAME NEXT TIME.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
REVIEW: Adventure Time: Hey Ice King! Why'd You Steal Our Garbage?
When I heard that WayForward would be developing the new Adventure Time game, I was understandably excited. This little developer has made their mark creating remarkable downloadable titles that, while skimpy on content, are embellished with so much aesthetic beauty and detail that they end up being a blast anyway. And, since they usually only run you the average downloadable price (ten to fifteen dollars), one never feels as if he's been cheated out of gameplay. This is a very new, modern way of designing video games, and one that's certainly leaked into their work on Adventure Time: HIKWYSOG?. This is both a curse, and a blessing.
Adventure Time: Hey Ice King! Why'd You Steal Our Garbage?
Nintendo 3DS, DS -- 30$
Developer: Wayforward
Publisher: D3Publisher
The game opens with an adorable scene that sets the stage perfectly: a cosmic owl blasts Finn to smithereens, whereupon he wakes up and tries his best to articulate what happened to his shape-shifting dog, Jake. Jake responds by telling him about all the tea cups in the basement he should smash, you know, for therapeutic purposes. From this, you can immediately tell that WayForward has nailed the transition from cartoon to videogame. Never once, in your entire time in the land of Ooo, will you feel as if you're playing a licensed game. No, you are in Ooo, and you are playing a classic episode of Adventure Time, complete with multiple cameos from your favorite characters, and wonderfully creative boss fights which show a loving respect to the style of each character portrayed.
The Adventure Time cartoon is a new modern cartoon classic. It seamlessly blends old style, eleven minute shorts with new, fast, modern comedy. The art style is deceptively simple, but that's what people want these days. Kids, especially. Gone are the times when they were placated by the stiff animation and fuzzy backdrops of older toons, and those styles are instead replaced with crisp, clean visuals that instantly communicate the ideas at play. This is a brilliant decision on the part of the cartoon makers, and WayForward has implemented this exact design choice into the game. The backdrops are clear, detailed, and sharp. This lends to a wonderful use of the 3D, as when it's turned on, the image pops and immediately becomes a picture book world, where the player is able to easily distinguish between the backdrops and the foreground where Finn does his adventuring. Not only is the style of the environments well designed, but they never cease to amaze you with their creativity throughout the whole adventure. From the grasslands, to Princess Bubblegum's candy kingdom, to the Ice King's lair, all of these places pack a massive visual punch, and the player will be delighted to journey through them and see what new kinds of monsters and dungeons await him.
The soundtrack never misses a beat either. Jake Kaufman is one of the greatest in the biz at the moment (his soundtrack for Double Dragon Neon is easily my favorite video game soundtrack of all time) and his personal flair can be found in every track. The rock-ish fighting theme grew a little old by the end of my time with the game (and why does it play during the otherwise peaceful cloud world segments?) but besides that, every track had me tapping my foot and enjoying the zones more than I would have otherwise.
Unfortunately, if you've noticed, up until now I've barely mentioned the gameplay. That's because there hardly is any. The world map puts you in an isometric view where you're able to direct Finn and Jake to any accessible zone, the next big area being locked off until you attain a new shape-shifting ability for Jake. This, however, is nothing more than a dialogue exchange and then bam, you can now press A at that broken bridge to cross it, or bam, you can now press A at that dock to swim to the next area. That by itself isn't too shabby. Sure, I'm a little disappointed they didn't make the world map a more lively place with which to interact, but if the dungeons themselves are fun, then who cares, right?
They aren't.
Each area has the player mindlessly walk from left to right, mashing the Y button to kill things in his way. There is no strategy required whatsoever. The inventory screen will quickly be filled (literally filled, most of the time spent in the player's inventory throughout the game is just throwing random crap out so Finn can make room for the better healing items) with items that either restore health, or give Finn a short term buff that do a fair few different things, but none of them add to the gameplay design. The best thing that can be said about them is that they are wonderfully faithful references to things we've seen in the Adventure Time cartoon. Use the Tiger's Claw, the player will hit a little harder. Use the Shuriken, when the player attacks he'll throw a few ninja stars out in a semi-circle spreading out from Finn's attack. I know that this was a game intended for children, but if it weren't for pitfall deaths that take you back to beginning of an area, there would be zero challenge to the levels.
The design of the gameplay steps it up only in the last couple of zones, when the player will finally have enough token dungeon solving abilites that he'll have to think just a wee bit to remember how to use them correctly in order to unlock the right doors so you can, again, just proceed to the next stale hallway where you will mash Y against stuff. Oh, you might mash X instead. I did. It's more fun to watch Jake hit things than Finn, and his attack has a slightly longer reach.
You will find level up upgrades in a few hard to reach chests, and Jake evolves a few combat abilities, but again, I cannot over-emphasize enough how very little this changes anything about what the player does. He might have fun noticing the damage numbers go from 4 to 6, or using the special attacks, but they're never, ever required, and they're almost always much less useful than just using Finn's basic attacks. The map and inventory system are adequate at best. There's no pausing to use items, but the selection window is so small that one can't easily use his thumbs to quickly select them. Thus, the player has to try and get the stylus out in the middle of a fight to pick the right item, double tap it to make it work, and either put the stylus back or set it down to move your thumb back into fighting position. All of that work to use the items which add the only real variations to combat, and after one instance of using them, the player will have lost twice the health he would have had he just mashed the Y button. I'm sorry, but that's iffy game design, and it isn't very fun to be punished for trying to use the things the game developers are trying to get you to use.
The final flaw to this game is its length. I, personally, don't mind it. WayForward is known for making lights that burn twice as bright for half as long, and I can appreciate that type of game design. It shows in HIK!WYSOG? in every single frame. The love they poured into the art style and animations is breathtaking. It must be said, though, that even with a full NG+ completion my time with the game barely exceeded six hours. I could understand many people being disappointed by paying thirty dollars for this game, but, again, I wasn't bothered. I prefer the rock-solid technical design of this game to a possibly shoddier, padded out experience.
But all of that being said, WayForward knocked the aesthetic design of the game out of the park and into whatever realm that Cosmic Owl comes from. The dialogue is hilarious, the characters will sometimes shout their classic catchphrases ("OH! MY! GLOB!"), and even though there isn't full voice-acting, I preferred it that way. It feels more like a fantasy adventure when you've got to read the voices in your head. You couldn't ask for a more faithfully created licensed product. Any fan of Adventure Time is going to have an absolute blast playing through HIK!WYSOG? For newcomers to the series, it can be a great starting point to get into the humor and art style of the show.
For those looking to play a great Zelda II clone, well...
I'd say go ahead and just play Zelda II again.
+
6.5/10
or
*** (three stars)
Adventure Time: Hey Ice King! Why'd You Steal Our Garbage?
Nintendo 3DS, DS -- 30$
Developer: Wayforward
Publisher: D3Publisher
The game opens with an adorable scene that sets the stage perfectly: a cosmic owl blasts Finn to smithereens, whereupon he wakes up and tries his best to articulate what happened to his shape-shifting dog, Jake. Jake responds by telling him about all the tea cups in the basement he should smash, you know, for therapeutic purposes. From this, you can immediately tell that WayForward has nailed the transition from cartoon to videogame. Never once, in your entire time in the land of Ooo, will you feel as if you're playing a licensed game. No, you are in Ooo, and you are playing a classic episode of Adventure Time, complete with multiple cameos from your favorite characters, and wonderfully creative boss fights which show a loving respect to the style of each character portrayed.
The Adventure Time cartoon is a new modern cartoon classic. It seamlessly blends old style, eleven minute shorts with new, fast, modern comedy. The art style is deceptively simple, but that's what people want these days. Kids, especially. Gone are the times when they were placated by the stiff animation and fuzzy backdrops of older toons, and those styles are instead replaced with crisp, clean visuals that instantly communicate the ideas at play. This is a brilliant decision on the part of the cartoon makers, and WayForward has implemented this exact design choice into the game. The backdrops are clear, detailed, and sharp. This lends to a wonderful use of the 3D, as when it's turned on, the image pops and immediately becomes a picture book world, where the player is able to easily distinguish between the backdrops and the foreground where Finn does his adventuring. Not only is the style of the environments well designed, but they never cease to amaze you with their creativity throughout the whole adventure. From the grasslands, to Princess Bubblegum's candy kingdom, to the Ice King's lair, all of these places pack a massive visual punch, and the player will be delighted to journey through them and see what new kinds of monsters and dungeons await him.
The soundtrack never misses a beat either. Jake Kaufman is one of the greatest in the biz at the moment (his soundtrack for Double Dragon Neon is easily my favorite video game soundtrack of all time) and his personal flair can be found in every track. The rock-ish fighting theme grew a little old by the end of my time with the game (and why does it play during the otherwise peaceful cloud world segments?) but besides that, every track had me tapping my foot and enjoying the zones more than I would have otherwise.
Unfortunately, if you've noticed, up until now I've barely mentioned the gameplay. That's because there hardly is any. The world map puts you in an isometric view where you're able to direct Finn and Jake to any accessible zone, the next big area being locked off until you attain a new shape-shifting ability for Jake. This, however, is nothing more than a dialogue exchange and then bam, you can now press A at that broken bridge to cross it, or bam, you can now press A at that dock to swim to the next area. That by itself isn't too shabby. Sure, I'm a little disappointed they didn't make the world map a more lively place with which to interact, but if the dungeons themselves are fun, then who cares, right?
They aren't.
Each area has the player mindlessly walk from left to right, mashing the Y button to kill things in his way. There is no strategy required whatsoever. The inventory screen will quickly be filled (literally filled, most of the time spent in the player's inventory throughout the game is just throwing random crap out so Finn can make room for the better healing items) with items that either restore health, or give Finn a short term buff that do a fair few different things, but none of them add to the gameplay design. The best thing that can be said about them is that they are wonderfully faithful references to things we've seen in the Adventure Time cartoon. Use the Tiger's Claw, the player will hit a little harder. Use the Shuriken, when the player attacks he'll throw a few ninja stars out in a semi-circle spreading out from Finn's attack. I know that this was a game intended for children, but if it weren't for pitfall deaths that take you back to beginning of an area, there would be zero challenge to the levels.
The design of the gameplay steps it up only in the last couple of zones, when the player will finally have enough token dungeon solving abilites that he'll have to think just a wee bit to remember how to use them correctly in order to unlock the right doors so you can, again, just proceed to the next stale hallway where you will mash Y against stuff. Oh, you might mash X instead. I did. It's more fun to watch Jake hit things than Finn, and his attack has a slightly longer reach.
You will find level up upgrades in a few hard to reach chests, and Jake evolves a few combat abilities, but again, I cannot over-emphasize enough how very little this changes anything about what the player does. He might have fun noticing the damage numbers go from 4 to 6, or using the special attacks, but they're never, ever required, and they're almost always much less useful than just using Finn's basic attacks. The map and inventory system are adequate at best. There's no pausing to use items, but the selection window is so small that one can't easily use his thumbs to quickly select them. Thus, the player has to try and get the stylus out in the middle of a fight to pick the right item, double tap it to make it work, and either put the stylus back or set it down to move your thumb back into fighting position. All of that work to use the items which add the only real variations to combat, and after one instance of using them, the player will have lost twice the health he would have had he just mashed the Y button. I'm sorry, but that's iffy game design, and it isn't very fun to be punished for trying to use the things the game developers are trying to get you to use.
The final flaw to this game is its length. I, personally, don't mind it. WayForward is known for making lights that burn twice as bright for half as long, and I can appreciate that type of game design. It shows in HIK!WYSOG? in every single frame. The love they poured into the art style and animations is breathtaking. It must be said, though, that even with a full NG+ completion my time with the game barely exceeded six hours. I could understand many people being disappointed by paying thirty dollars for this game, but, again, I wasn't bothered. I prefer the rock-solid technical design of this game to a possibly shoddier, padded out experience.
But all of that being said, WayForward knocked the aesthetic design of the game out of the park and into whatever realm that Cosmic Owl comes from. The dialogue is hilarious, the characters will sometimes shout their classic catchphrases ("OH! MY! GLOB!"), and even though there isn't full voice-acting, I preferred it that way. It feels more like a fantasy adventure when you've got to read the voices in your head. You couldn't ask for a more faithfully created licensed product. Any fan of Adventure Time is going to have an absolute blast playing through HIK!WYSOG? For newcomers to the series, it can be a great starting point to get into the humor and art style of the show.
For those looking to play a great Zelda II clone, well...
I'd say go ahead and just play Zelda II again.
+
6.5/10
or
*** (three stars)
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