Call of Duty: Black Ops hits every high point, and low point, the franchise has to offer but leaves you feeling like you’ve bought a ticket to a matinee during a Broadway show’s closing week.
In short, every feature you enjoy in our console generation’s FPS game is there from permanent special abilities to an overarching rank up system barring you from game content right out the gate, but every tweak and addition to the formula feels mechanical and route in nature after the title’s four predecessors.
As with World at War and Modern Warfare 2, Black Ops divvies its core gameplay up across three game modes alongside a slew of bizarre, surprisingly well thought out, miscellaneous side-games.
The Campaign, one of these core modes, tosses aside the Infinity War developed fiction and focuses on further expanding the universe established by World at War. Establishing you in the role of Alex Mason, a CIA op currently under interrogation by forces unknown, the story traces your violent, decade long struggle against a trio of Russian rebels up to no good in the shadowy background of major Cold War conflicts.
Unlike Modern Warfare or the prior Call of Duty titles set in World War Two, the Campaign sticks largely to a single plot thread and only acclimates you with new characters on two or three missions. Instead, you’ll follow Mason’s personal odyssey from a failed assassination attempt on Castro to a climatic battle with Russian, British and German forces all gunning for you.
There’s a lot to digest plot wise in the campaign’s six hours, but the steady clip of how the game doles out its numerous revelations and shifting alliances will keep most players engaged until the end.
As with previous titles, you have the option of selecting from a number of difficulties, but ultimately boils down to experiencing a low-impact shooter on easy/normal or gunning for achievements on the unfairly hard “Veteran” difficulty. Most players would honestly serve themselves better by running through the game on the lowest difficulty to absorb most of the plot and memorize enemy encounters before running head long into the brick wall challenges of Veteran. If meaningless game numbers mean absolutely nothing to you, you’ll probably enjoy the game far more than most “hardcore players” will.
During the actual gameplay, you’ll find yourself going through all the motions long considered staples of the series that’ll start to border on cliché now. You’ll fight against overwhelming odds with nary a weapon on you. You’ll stealthily shoot and stab NVA troops. You’ll even fly a helicopter at one point. Yet all of these actual gameplay moments feel secondary to brief glimpses of Mason’s madness that permeate the levels from his obsession with numbers to several brushes with a old friend only he seems to care about.
The occasional plot based level, which typically neatly ties into several great cutscenes and even some live actors, are undoubtedly the highpoints of the campaign’s missions. It’s just a shame there’s little game connected to them, probably a sign that the bombastic “creep ahead while taking out targets which shoot back” FPS style of the series has reached its inevitable evolutionary conclusion.
Upon completing the game, you’ll find there’s a massive amount of Cold War silliness afoot in the game’s hidden collectables, establishing an actual use of the miscellanea you’ve been acquiring since Call of Duty 4. Each yellow tape recorder found throughout the game reveals notes from a redacted file associated to each level. Furthermore, you can discover a secret computer boasting a complete Unix-like file structure that’ll pull back more of the curtains on Manson’s, and even several “faux-real” political figures of the 1960’s.
Doing away with the cooperative campaign of World at War and the one off missions of Modern Warfare 2, Black Ops uses Treyarch’s signature “Zombies” mode as the main cooperative experience. Shipping with only a scant two maps, folks who ordered the $80 and $150 versions of the game will get a code for the four Zombie levels from World at War. While the maps are a nice bonus for the additional cost, they’re ultimately meaningless since fans of the mode have undoubtedly played these games to death already.
The two included maps continue the Zombies style of shooting monsters, buying guns and repairing damaged barricades, but all fall into the trap of becoming route exercises.
The main meat of the game for most players will undoubtedly be the multiplayer mode, which boasts the most comprehensive set of features yet for the franchise.
As millions of fans know by now, you’ll work your way up the ranks via kills and side missions to unlock a number of power ups, weapons and even face paints to deck out virtual, PTSD-free, self as he battles through a number of locations drawn from the Campaign and “artist renditions” of Cold War battlegrounds.
Oddly, due to the limited number of actual historical locations or factions, the game’s multiplayer feels infinitely more “gamey” and less a simulated doomsday conflict. To be certain, past titles in the series have thrown most of their reality out the window by allowing the Taliban to carry experimental US arms or having Brazilian rebels packing weapons which never left the production line, but this game feels devoid of the series eerily plausible encounters with the US and Russia over a downtown apartment complex or Taliban’s attempts to ambush US forces with a nuclear weapon in the middle of NotIraqistan. Furthermore, the loss of the excitable announcers and chatty squad-mates from previous games makes matches sound oddly muted in the face of causality heavy conflict.
These atmospheric changes will mean little for most players compared to the seemingly small yet paradigm-shifting alterations performed to the “Perks” customization which put the franchise on the map.
The numerous alterations to perks falls well outside the scope of the review, but the two most pivotal changes which should be mentioned include the removal of any life or damage boosting perks from the game. Rather than giving players two choices to build their entire character around, or one in the case of Modern Warfare 2, players are far more free to customize their own play style through insidiously well designed new perks.
For instance, the “Scout” perk at first merely lets you hold your breath for extended periods while looking down a sniper scope. While it may appear useless at first brush, its “Pro” variation allows you to instantaneous switch between weapons with a long draw animation. Combined with a fully automatic handgun, snipers will find themselves suddenly deadly at any range.
Killstreaks too have undergone a “less is more” approach to their design. Forgoing the game ending silliness of nukes or spawn locking air support of Modern Warfare 2, you’ll find the return of World at War’s dogs and the delightfully silly, on a far smaller scale, RC Car Bomb. Mordern Warfare 2’s killstreak system rewarded a rapid application rewards and chain combos to keep the kills coming, Black Ops settles for perks that operate far slower and with more of a focus on map domination.
The carpet bombing, a series trademark since Call of Duty 4, now leaves behind a napalm trail in its wake that blocks off a good section of the level for a few moments by horrific fire. For your teammates, it’s an opportunity to steal a few flags while the enemy team crosses their fingers for one of their players to have a class with the Flak Jacket perk.
Levels themselves also continue upon the franchise’s obsession with tight narrow corridors flanked by open, and deadly, expanses. Though a few maps offer a creative spin on a comic book inspired Cold War world, such as the pristine 1950’s “Nuketown”, most fall into the mold of generic factories or snowcapped radar stations.
A number of PC mod inspired game modes called “Wager Matches” have also made their way into the core experience as well. Earning you addition money to buy weapons rather than XP, these matches require you to pony up a small amount of your cash to compete in some wild and wacky situations that’ll have you shifting between weapons at 45 second intervals or fleeing for your life from a gun with only one lethal bullet in the chamber.
If none of these modes tickle your fancy, extensive private match options and a file sharing system allow you to create a spin off of your own design. Unfortunately, compared to the Halo Reach approach of giving you complete control of every game aspect, you’re fairly limited in your options here with options restricted to player health amounts, starting weapons and so forth.
Your countless defeats across the world can even be remembered for years to come thanks to the power of the game’s theater mode, which records your most recent matches and allows countless preteens around the world to upload their sniper rifle kill montage to Youtube with your melon as the centerpiece kill.
For fans who want to enjoy some multiplayer fun without dealing with the internet at large can dabble in some AI-controlled bot matches, limited to only deathmatch or team deathmatch modes and two human players, or play up to four players in split screen fights.
Throwing a bone to local couch fans, everything is unlocked for all players from the start to play with. Unfortunately, this has the added side effect of removing some of the long term fun from local play sessions. Say what you will about the “deep combat experience” that keeps you coming back, one can’t deny most of the series fun dervies from seeing that yellow XP bar fill up.
In another bizarre design choice, local players can’t partake in any of the fun Wager Match modes, record and upload gameplay clips via the Theater mode, or even alter the rules sets of their games. If there was any point in the package which suffered the most, it’s split-screen battles.
Summarily, Black Ops serves as both an excellent third effort with the series for Treyarch and an important franchise branch for Activision. With the loss of the series main developer Infinity Ward, Black Ops has become a defacto turning point in series. Most players could take to Treyarch’s slower paced style of gameplay or many might feel the loss of speed compared to Modern Warfare 2, but many casual fans might just start feeling the fatigue of three years worth of XP grinds before any of the game’s subtle alterations come to light.
Going back to the Broadway example used earlier, Treyarch’s b-list cast put on an a-list performance this year. Sadly, the technical staff is bored with the same motions, the director wants to wrap up the show and start the next as soon as possible and the audience themselves have likely read a summary of the show beforehand, ruining any suprises that might come their way.
It’s a well put together package, but just too much too late.
6/29/10
Keep Your 'letric Eye on Me Babe
Yo, so I'm two years late to the party but I beat Metal Gear Solid 4.
Well, alright, beat is a bit of a misnomer. A more apt description would be "watch it fizzle out slowly."
Despite the opening two chapters of the game featuring some of the best stealth gameplay in the genre, the three following chapters reduce the game to a series of quick time events.
I can't fault Kojima for them, as spending any more time on actual gameplay and not wrapping up inane story threads from the bloated second and third entries in the series would force him to "revisit" the series again. Apparently this is a horrible torture.
To be blunt, I'm a fair weather fan of the series in the purest sense of the word. I was a huge fan and supporter of the first title on the PSX over ten years ago, I played through the second one but recall nothing beyond disappointment and didn't even bother with the third.
From what I gather, the third was the best in the series because it shed (har har) the whole Snake angle from most of the game.
To me, this seems like a cop out for both the players and Kojima.
As a fair weather fan, my love of the series begins and ends with Solid Snake. By playing 1,2 and 4 I got Snake's narrative arc and I would be content with there never being another Metal Gear title for as long as I live.
This isn't to say I wouldn't want the stealth mechanics of the game to come back in some form, far from it. The fact I can cloak myself as a Persian rug screams out for this game's mechanics to be in a more deserving title.
No. Instead, I have finally outgrown Solid Snake and the series no longer needs me.
I can recall seeing my first trailer for Metal Gear Solid on a Playstation demo disk back in 1998. Around then, some promotional trailer truck was going around pimping Playstation games. Were we to look back on them now, I'd probably see a truck full of games that would give me a headache but at that point it time they were the coolest goddamn things around.
The demo CD a trinket they gave out to everyone, so when I got home I poped it in to play some TOTALLY SWEET Crash Bandicoot. However, the video demonstration on the disk was for a game entitled Metal Gear I had never heard of.
It wasn't until I had exhaused everything else I could do on that CD that I clicked the play video button.
With it's engrishy cries of "THIS FALL: LET'S GET SOLID!", the theme music that's since become one of the series few consistent traits kicked in and never let me little eyes go until I'd watched the video at least four more times.
It seemed unreal then. Here was a game that was telling me not to kill everything I on the screen. Furthermore, its sci-fi/military angle seemed startlingly mature and realistic when I'd just finished playing games like Jumping Flash and Crash Bandicoot.
When the game came out later that November, it more than lived up to the hype. The game trapped you in a base against overwhelming odds with one clear instruction "sneak or die".
Though time has passed to reveal the game is an overwritten Japanese cartoon as imagined by the Rainbow Six art team, it was a game that served its purpose at the time.
Metal Gear Solid 2 then, represented another passage of time. While I wasn't much older than 11 when I played through Metal Gear, I was probably 15 by the time I was able to play Solid 2.
With its boring characters, bizarre Japanese quirks and lead character I had never even heard of, I silently wrote off the series to myself.
It was the same case with 4 in all honesty. Despite owning a Playstation 3 I still consider it an overpriced "brown HD graphics" generator that lacks substantial exclusive games. MGS4, then, was more or less the ramblings of an insane Japanese man to me.
After playing through it, I still consider my initial assessment correct.
MGS4 should have been the final, gorgeous, eulogy to the series but instead felt like a constipated trip to the can. Sure, you feel pumped sitting down to get the poisons out of your system, but nothing ever comes.
At any rate, Solid Snake and his chum Ocelot are astoundingly emotive characters here that run the gamut from being genuinely funny to tragic figures we end up rooting for.
Snake's final tribulations, throughout most of the proceedings, trap him in a world where he realizes his end is ever more nigh and that it'd best for him to simply fade away. He quickly realizes that, despite what the back of the case may say, in his final hour cannot stand alone. Instead, his journey can only be taken through the suffering of others.
Kojima seems to have taken to heart the classical lesson of "at the end of a comedy there is a wedding and at the end of a tragedy there is a death" yet failed to learn the trick of artistic restraint in applying those ideas.
Characters we once loved change both for the better and the worse all while Snake continues his slow march towards the graveyard, both literally and metaphorically.
Were the game to have ended at the climatic moment Snake pulls the trigger on the pistol in his mouth, I would have said that the entire game and series had been vindicated as story about one old dog who just couldn't learn a new trick.
Apparently, I was told that the internet is run by evil computers and that I can come back from the dead with just a collection of cells. Whatever.
Well, alright, beat is a bit of a misnomer. A more apt description would be "watch it fizzle out slowly."
Despite the opening two chapters of the game featuring some of the best stealth gameplay in the genre, the three following chapters reduce the game to a series of quick time events.
I can't fault Kojima for them, as spending any more time on actual gameplay and not wrapping up inane story threads from the bloated second and third entries in the series would force him to "revisit" the series again. Apparently this is a horrible torture.
To be blunt, I'm a fair weather fan of the series in the purest sense of the word. I was a huge fan and supporter of the first title on the PSX over ten years ago, I played through the second one but recall nothing beyond disappointment and didn't even bother with the third.
From what I gather, the third was the best in the series because it shed (har har) the whole Snake angle from most of the game.
To me, this seems like a cop out for both the players and Kojima.
As a fair weather fan, my love of the series begins and ends with Solid Snake. By playing 1,2 and 4 I got Snake's narrative arc and I would be content with there never being another Metal Gear title for as long as I live.
This isn't to say I wouldn't want the stealth mechanics of the game to come back in some form, far from it. The fact I can cloak myself as a Persian rug screams out for this game's mechanics to be in a more deserving title.
No. Instead, I have finally outgrown Solid Snake and the series no longer needs me.
I can recall seeing my first trailer for Metal Gear Solid on a Playstation demo disk back in 1998. Around then, some promotional trailer truck was going around pimping Playstation games. Were we to look back on them now, I'd probably see a truck full of games that would give me a headache but at that point it time they were the coolest goddamn things around.
The demo CD a trinket they gave out to everyone, so when I got home I poped it in to play some TOTALLY SWEET Crash Bandicoot. However, the video demonstration on the disk was for a game entitled Metal Gear I had never heard of.
It wasn't until I had exhaused everything else I could do on that CD that I clicked the play video button.
With it's engrishy cries of "THIS FALL: LET'S GET SOLID!", the theme music that's since become one of the series few consistent traits kicked in and never let me little eyes go until I'd watched the video at least four more times.
It seemed unreal then. Here was a game that was telling me not to kill everything I on the screen. Furthermore, its sci-fi/military angle seemed startlingly mature and realistic when I'd just finished playing games like Jumping Flash and Crash Bandicoot.
When the game came out later that November, it more than lived up to the hype. The game trapped you in a base against overwhelming odds with one clear instruction "sneak or die".
Though time has passed to reveal the game is an overwritten Japanese cartoon as imagined by the Rainbow Six art team, it was a game that served its purpose at the time.
Metal Gear Solid 2 then, represented another passage of time. While I wasn't much older than 11 when I played through Metal Gear, I was probably 15 by the time I was able to play Solid 2.
With its boring characters, bizarre Japanese quirks and lead character I had never even heard of, I silently wrote off the series to myself.
It was the same case with 4 in all honesty. Despite owning a Playstation 3 I still consider it an overpriced "brown HD graphics" generator that lacks substantial exclusive games. MGS4, then, was more or less the ramblings of an insane Japanese man to me.
After playing through it, I still consider my initial assessment correct.
MGS4 should have been the final, gorgeous, eulogy to the series but instead felt like a constipated trip to the can. Sure, you feel pumped sitting down to get the poisons out of your system, but nothing ever comes.
At any rate, Solid Snake and his chum Ocelot are astoundingly emotive characters here that run the gamut from being genuinely funny to tragic figures we end up rooting for.
Snake's final tribulations, throughout most of the proceedings, trap him in a world where he realizes his end is ever more nigh and that it'd best for him to simply fade away. He quickly realizes that, despite what the back of the case may say, in his final hour cannot stand alone. Instead, his journey can only be taken through the suffering of others.
Kojima seems to have taken to heart the classical lesson of "at the end of a comedy there is a wedding and at the end of a tragedy there is a death" yet failed to learn the trick of artistic restraint in applying those ideas.
Characters we once loved change both for the better and the worse all while Snake continues his slow march towards the graveyard, both literally and metaphorically.
Were the game to have ended at the climatic moment Snake pulls the trigger on the pistol in his mouth, I would have said that the entire game and series had been vindicated as story about one old dog who just couldn't learn a new trick.
Apparently, I was told that the internet is run by evil computers and that I can come back from the dead with just a collection of cells. Whatever.
4/6/10
She's So Heavy
Heavy Rain is a bad narrative, a bad game, and a bad influence on game designers and players. It's also one of the more significant games that's I've been delighted to play this year. It's fairly common on this space of mine to say that all modern game design ideas are bad and to chide those who enable them, but I've got no reservations in giving Heavy Rain my notable "Mr. McCarthy's urban underachievers award" with a beaming smile a parent might reserve for their handicapped child after they burn down the kitchen on the pretenses of "cooking like daddy".
Let's break it down.
Playing Heavy Rain taught me that David Cage is apparently both suffering from ADD and slightly autistic at the same time. In a bizzare twist, however, I don't mean these terms as a complete insult, but rather as legitimate descriptors of his so called "writing".
Every scene and decision you make in Heavy Rain unfolds in the same tripartite format every time of: looking/reacting/combating. Those who contest this forms a beautiful narrative when repeated some forty odd times are, with the full weight of an insult, morons.
Heavy Rain's story has no sense of pacing in any fashion beyond the immediate shock value. While critics may argue that the game advances "interactive fiction" or whatever superlative they may be thinking of in describing what is the adventure game yang to Myst.
Case in point is with the female character Madison.
She's a character I felt bad for only because she's stuck in a world written by men with little exposure to how actual women operate. Her characteristics beyond "journalist that is never once seen doing journalist things" is simply "she has tits and an ass". Every scene in which you control her attacks her sexuality and female qualities in some capacity, leading you to remain "uncomfortable" in any scene she takes a part in. You'll be raped with a drill, forced to strip, and even take part in completely unnecessary fucking for the sake of there being fucking.
In short, she's a tool to the detriment of the other characters both male and female. Never once did any of her plot threads lead to any serious conclusions nor did she ever do anything to make herself a particularly interesting character I wanted to see survive beyond a simple "boy I sure don't want a drill stuck in my vag either".
She the figurehead of the aformentioned greater narrative problem as a whole outlined above. Each scene will have you milling about until you obey the adventure game logic to proceed to the next section. Know that the crying baby could probably make use of the bottle lying conspicuously on the table? Well too bad, you can't touch it until the French developers say so.
In the end, the game ultimately boils down to you have not made too many missed button presses and having found around 15 red/blue pages to advance to the "good" ending.
Yeah, that's a second call back to Myst in one post. Want to fight about it?
All this contributes to is a hopeless feeling of noticing the puppet strings hanging all around you. While excellent movies/novels/goddamned real literature may frustrate you with character revelations and decisions, you're supposed to eventually understand these motives and place them within the overarching narrative, thus increasing your respect and enjoyment of the work.
When you're controlling a character who runs against all the logical motives you've been inputting for him, you merely scratch your head and roll your eyes.
As you undergo each progressively "difficult" scene- of which only two actually made me think through the consequences of my actions- you come to realize that David Cage wrote himself into a corner. With nowhere left to go, you're forced to endure scenes of melodrama and pointless theatrics that would have made the writers of Halo blush.
Of course, the melodrama may just be due to the fact David Cage can't write or keep a consistent universe. The game abounds with cultural anachronisms and clashes. We see French style toilets, cars, appliances, and electrical outlets in a city that's supposed to be a cross between Philly and Boston.
Characters murder other people, both innocent and not, in cold blood with absolutely no repercussions to speak of!
Again, let's go back to the journalist.
She's attacked by a crazy doc who wants to stick a drill in her vagina after he's convinced she's a fed. Should you pass the Simon-Says action sequence, she kills him with his own drill. After almost being brutally slaughtered in the most inhumane way possible she merely walks it off and proceeds to the next sequence where she strips for a mob boss.
What?! How?! Why?! More importantly why wouldn't the goddamned police start coming after her! Sure you could argue that nobody would miss a crazy old man.
Except this man is a drug dealer and has local connections and owned property. Madison also touched a dozen odd objects in the building. This is a game where the police have advanced computer glasses that can see through goddamned time and apparently murders just happen everyday? Good lord, did anyone even look at a second draft of this and ask "But what about?".
This is coming from a character who only hours before had been worried about being raped in her sleep and here she goes attempting to stick up a mobster. This is completely inconsistent in her character actions, which nobody bothers to give any motivation to other than she wants to write articles for some weekly shitrag.
Unless she was an embedded reporter in Iraq, her whole character makes no sense at all. This isn't creating a "mysterious femme fatale", this is making a stupid one dimensional cut out.
Then again I should expect much from a game where I survive a bomb blast by hiding in a fridge.
Narrative could be forgive if it was a good game, but it's not. There is no game to speak of. Since the murder is the same berk every time you play, there is no reason to ever return to the game. With absolutely no element of "play" at work beyond binary distinctions that boil down to you not turning the page fast enough, there's nothing one can call a game at work in the systems here.
I guess it's a game in the same way I held my finger on the pages where I had to make a decision in "choose your own adventure" novels. I did that there because I thought I was being so damn clever. Here you can sub that phrase with "hitting the power button on the console".
More damning, perhaps, is that in it's attempts to be a movie there's no distinction for when one should be "active" on the controller or when one is being timed. I guess this is to give the illusion of decisions and consequences being weighed on the fly.
Too bad there's a pause button I can use at any time to game their system. Sorry David, you failed at making suspense.
It doesn't even need to be mentioned that the voice acting and graphics are mediocre at best and downright awful at worst.
So why do I still consider this an excellent title everyone should check out at least once? It's the sign of something much better.
Where Mr Cage failed in his attempts to rip off movies by mashing Saw and Mystic River together, a good writer could step in to deliver bite sized narrative content that delivers an experience one can't get without the "interactive" nature of games.
I'd like to envision a future where titles such as this would come on a blu-ray, dvd, or- God Lord willing- streamed directly through your cable as part of primetime programming. While Heavy Rain shot itself in the foot by arbitrary tying itself to the PS3 console, I could imagine a company such as Pixar taking the interactive features of blu-ray players to deliver experiences that are shaped by you as a viewer.
While this isn't to say I want the death of passive reader narrative in any capacity- I'd probably be annoyed as hell if I had to make a decision every time Peter Griffin made a flashback or Dilbert had to choose which wacky workplace pun to use- I do see this as a viable new medium. I imagine something akin to The Incredibles or Up where decisions don't ever lead to the arbitrary "death" of a character as video games are destined to be constricted by. Instead, I see viewers being able to choose their own narrative arc and path through the story at key points which the writers have dictated as possible branches.
Since players/viewers can and will always choose the jerk option in any game they play, this format would allow writers to keep their artistic control while allowing significant choice by the end consumer. In the end, we'd create a true mutually generated narrative.
It also wouldn't hurt if these pieces were kept short so as to allow unlimited potential in visuals to not be trapped by Heavy Rain's constant texture repeats and rigid animations.
I really enjoyed my time with Heavy Rain. I just hope next time they'll at least throw a curtain up to cover the strings pulling me about.
Let's break it down.
Playing Heavy Rain taught me that David Cage is apparently both suffering from ADD and slightly autistic at the same time. In a bizzare twist, however, I don't mean these terms as a complete insult, but rather as legitimate descriptors of his so called "writing".
Every scene and decision you make in Heavy Rain unfolds in the same tripartite format every time of: looking/reacting/combating. Those who contest this forms a beautiful narrative when repeated some forty odd times are, with the full weight of an insult, morons.
Heavy Rain's story has no sense of pacing in any fashion beyond the immediate shock value. While critics may argue that the game advances "interactive fiction" or whatever superlative they may be thinking of in describing what is the adventure game yang to Myst.
Case in point is with the female character Madison.
She's a character I felt bad for only because she's stuck in a world written by men with little exposure to how actual women operate. Her characteristics beyond "journalist that is never once seen doing journalist things" is simply "she has tits and an ass". Every scene in which you control her attacks her sexuality and female qualities in some capacity, leading you to remain "uncomfortable" in any scene she takes a part in. You'll be raped with a drill, forced to strip, and even take part in completely unnecessary fucking for the sake of there being fucking.
In short, she's a tool to the detriment of the other characters both male and female. Never once did any of her plot threads lead to any serious conclusions nor did she ever do anything to make herself a particularly interesting character I wanted to see survive beyond a simple "boy I sure don't want a drill stuck in my vag either".
She the figurehead of the aformentioned greater narrative problem as a whole outlined above. Each scene will have you milling about until you obey the adventure game logic to proceed to the next section. Know that the crying baby could probably make use of the bottle lying conspicuously on the table? Well too bad, you can't touch it until the French developers say so.
In the end, the game ultimately boils down to you have not made too many missed button presses and having found around 15 red/blue pages to advance to the "good" ending.
Yeah, that's a second call back to Myst in one post. Want to fight about it?
All this contributes to is a hopeless feeling of noticing the puppet strings hanging all around you. While excellent movies/novels/goddamned real literature may frustrate you with character revelations and decisions, you're supposed to eventually understand these motives and place them within the overarching narrative, thus increasing your respect and enjoyment of the work.
When you're controlling a character who runs against all the logical motives you've been inputting for him, you merely scratch your head and roll your eyes.
As you undergo each progressively "difficult" scene- of which only two actually made me think through the consequences of my actions- you come to realize that David Cage wrote himself into a corner. With nowhere left to go, you're forced to endure scenes of melodrama and pointless theatrics that would have made the writers of Halo blush.
Of course, the melodrama may just be due to the fact David Cage can't write or keep a consistent universe. The game abounds with cultural anachronisms and clashes. We see French style toilets, cars, appliances, and electrical outlets in a city that's supposed to be a cross between Philly and Boston.
Characters murder other people, both innocent and not, in cold blood with absolutely no repercussions to speak of!
Again, let's go back to the journalist.
She's attacked by a crazy doc who wants to stick a drill in her vagina after he's convinced she's a fed. Should you pass the Simon-Says action sequence, she kills him with his own drill. After almost being brutally slaughtered in the most inhumane way possible she merely walks it off and proceeds to the next sequence where she strips for a mob boss.
What?! How?! Why?! More importantly why wouldn't the goddamned police start coming after her! Sure you could argue that nobody would miss a crazy old man.
Except this man is a drug dealer and has local connections and owned property. Madison also touched a dozen odd objects in the building. This is a game where the police have advanced computer glasses that can see through goddamned time and apparently murders just happen everyday? Good lord, did anyone even look at a second draft of this and ask "But what about?".
This is coming from a character who only hours before had been worried about being raped in her sleep and here she goes attempting to stick up a mobster. This is completely inconsistent in her character actions, which nobody bothers to give any motivation to other than she wants to write articles for some weekly shitrag.
Unless she was an embedded reporter in Iraq, her whole character makes no sense at all. This isn't creating a "mysterious femme fatale", this is making a stupid one dimensional cut out.
Then again I should expect much from a game where I survive a bomb blast by hiding in a fridge.
Narrative could be forgive if it was a good game, but it's not. There is no game to speak of. Since the murder is the same berk every time you play, there is no reason to ever return to the game. With absolutely no element of "play" at work beyond binary distinctions that boil down to you not turning the page fast enough, there's nothing one can call a game at work in the systems here.
I guess it's a game in the same way I held my finger on the pages where I had to make a decision in "choose your own adventure" novels. I did that there because I thought I was being so damn clever. Here you can sub that phrase with "hitting the power button on the console".
More damning, perhaps, is that in it's attempts to be a movie there's no distinction for when one should be "active" on the controller or when one is being timed. I guess this is to give the illusion of decisions and consequences being weighed on the fly.
Too bad there's a pause button I can use at any time to game their system. Sorry David, you failed at making suspense.
It doesn't even need to be mentioned that the voice acting and graphics are mediocre at best and downright awful at worst.
So why do I still consider this an excellent title everyone should check out at least once? It's the sign of something much better.
Where Mr Cage failed in his attempts to rip off movies by mashing Saw and Mystic River together, a good writer could step in to deliver bite sized narrative content that delivers an experience one can't get without the "interactive" nature of games.
I'd like to envision a future where titles such as this would come on a blu-ray, dvd, or- God Lord willing- streamed directly through your cable as part of primetime programming. While Heavy Rain shot itself in the foot by arbitrary tying itself to the PS3 console, I could imagine a company such as Pixar taking the interactive features of blu-ray players to deliver experiences that are shaped by you as a viewer.
While this isn't to say I want the death of passive reader narrative in any capacity- I'd probably be annoyed as hell if I had to make a decision every time Peter Griffin made a flashback or Dilbert had to choose which wacky workplace pun to use- I do see this as a viable new medium. I imagine something akin to The Incredibles or Up where decisions don't ever lead to the arbitrary "death" of a character as video games are destined to be constricted by. Instead, I see viewers being able to choose their own narrative arc and path through the story at key points which the writers have dictated as possible branches.
Since players/viewers can and will always choose the jerk option in any game they play, this format would allow writers to keep their artistic control while allowing significant choice by the end consumer. In the end, we'd create a true mutually generated narrative.
It also wouldn't hurt if these pieces were kept short so as to allow unlimited potential in visuals to not be trapped by Heavy Rain's constant texture repeats and rigid animations.
I really enjoyed my time with Heavy Rain. I just hope next time they'll at least throw a curtain up to cover the strings pulling me about.
3/28/10
Part 3
It's the best question you can ask anyone really.
Why? Why is this? Why should I? Why should we?
Everyone, anywhere, all the time, should ask themselves this question after each statement someone makes.
You are beautiful.
Why?
This is tasty.
Why?
Etc etc so on and so forth ad nauseum.
So how does this blog post relate to video games? Simple. Ask yourself why every moment you're playing every game.
You must stop the invaders.
Why?
Today, most game designers are stunted and failed screenplay writers who would say- based upon their Star Wars and comic book addled haze of a childhood- a number of non-concerning reasons.
Because the fate of the world hangs in the balance!
Why?
One of the greatest games of all time, Doom, has a constant response to every why.
You must kill the monsters!
Why?
Because they are from Hell. And hell's pretty bad.
Why?
Because they've murdered all your comrades, your friends, your family, and you are trapped alone on mars. Everyone you once knew and loved is strung from the trees and walls, desperately taking in their final gasps of life in a haze of pain. You are trapped in a world where flesh and bone compose the walls, floors, ceilings. All the while creatures are looming around every corner to eviscerate you and claim the only remaining human soul that anyone knows of. For this, you are the last candle light of humanity before the unstoppable wind of evil snuffs out the once burning beacon of human existence in this solar system.
oh.
You really can't form a more complete narrative than that. Of course, the whys' will continue as the game progresses.
Why are their chainsaws and medical supplies in hell?
Why are the same groups of monsters constantly coming after me?
Why are these space bases laid out in a maze like fashion with no practical purpose?
Simple response: "Hell's a pretty fucked up place dude. You ever been there to say what it's like?"
I'm tempted to bring a recent modern game I've played, Uncharted 2, which was recently lumped with more praise that I'd ever care to make a case against. Unlike Doom's constant "why" response, Uncharted 2 leaves you with no responses.
Nathan Drake must claim the lost treasure of some place!
Why?
Cause he wants it.
Why?
Cause he is a treasure hunter.
Why?
Fuck you play our terribly acted game.
No.
As you begin to ask more questions, you're left with even worse responses.
Help Nathan Drake steal these maps!
Why?
Cause he wants them.
Why?
Cause.
That's it, that's the entire motivation for the game. Naughty Dog assumes you give a shit about helping a mass murder earn his riches.
It's pretty depressing that the general population is apparently eating up this pap. Each level introduces mechanics you will use only once in a blue moon all while attempting to make a loveable and human character out of a man who steals from museums because it benefits him.
In Grand Theft Auto 4 we played Niko Belic, a man who wasn't afraid to kill but realized the inhumanity of himself while taking part. The open sandbox parts didn't punish you engaging in ultra violence and the game always ignored your agency as a player in between missions.
This is a good thing. I know I occasionally want to fuck around with a game, so why should it have any bearing on the overarching story? It's akin to watching your favorite scenes off a DVD. The actors have no idea if you're either laughing at it or whacking off to it. It honestly makes no difference to them, they'll keep playing their part in the drama. You, on the other hand, are free to enjoy both the moment to moment excitement and the overarching irony taking place around them.
Uncharted 2, on the other hand, assumes you give a flying fuck about obeying it's amoral and unlikeable character's moral code.
Break into the museum and steal artifacts, but make sure to not kill any guards!
Why?
Because they are innocent.
Why?
Because fuck you, play our prescripted scenario.
Of course, in the following level you're apparently free to kill off similarly armed mercenaries as you please.
At no point in this game have I been told why I, as a player, should care. At least GTA4 you've got the promise of more free areas to explore and destroy as you please.
Which brings us all back to Doom. You care because you don't want to die. If you want to die then there's really no point for you to boot up this game now is there.
Unlike modern "masterpieces" such as Uncharted 2, your motivations outside of this overaching question of why are both self imposed and rewarded for exploring them.
Why do I want to find these secret areas in Doom?
Because you'll get access to better guns and items sooner, especially if you've croaked before in this level.
I cannot stress enough that Doom attains that intangible since of "place" and "weight" that so many other shooters have been attempting for years to capture. As you're zipping through the levels, each more convoluted than the last, you feel this unexplainable since of belonging.
The textures with all their bright 256 VGA colors feel real. Enemies made from photos of clay models and pixel art feel strangely menacing. More importantly, perhaps, all of these visuals allow you to develop iconic imagery with each level that allows you to navigate with purpose.
The next time you play a given level, you'll remember the basics of where items and keycards are and will then be tempted to explore the out limits of the map.
What if you attempt that jump?
What if you press against that wall which seems slightly out of place?
99% of the time, you'll be rewarded with a new secret area or simply a different way you might be able to approach a situation.
This point of "going back" to levels is another important facet of what makes Doom one of the greatest games of all time and continues to respond to "why": It's a game that grows with you.
You'll want to go back and replay this level on a harder difficulty.
Why?
Because you'll find new weapons, more enemies, and new challenges due to your changing physical attributes.
As you keep pushing yourself through the harder challenges, you'll find that tangible sense of place become more real on each playthrough. You'll learn to recognize and respond to every single monster. You'll learn the dirty little tricks of movement you didn't think were possible. You'll discover the funny little ticks and side benefits each powerup offers. You'll also find yourself pushing for faster and faster clear times.
In the end, you'll find that your greatest challenge lies in fighting with the geometry of the level itself and how it controls your assaults on the enemy.
That choice of the word assault, by the way, isn't merely a synonym for "fights". It means just that, assualt. You are faster, better armed, and smarter than any enemy in Doom. Assuming you know each monster and their capabilities, the only thing that could possibly kill you is any surprise attack the level itself could create.
More entertaining, however, is the fact their strength lies in numbers. Glorious glorious numbers.
A small fight will have at least 2 dozen monsters attempting to ambush you. A larger fight will be pushing the 50 mark. The best fights, however, will throw well over a hundred foes at you.
You will not stop shooting and you will not stop for a rest with pathetic concepts like "regenerating health" or "limited ammo". Instead, you're going to fight!
You'll ask once more, why should I fight so many goons?
Because it's a perfectly designed game.
Why? Why is this? Why should I? Why should we?
Everyone, anywhere, all the time, should ask themselves this question after each statement someone makes.
You are beautiful.
Why?
This is tasty.
Why?
Etc etc so on and so forth ad nauseum.
So how does this blog post relate to video games? Simple. Ask yourself why every moment you're playing every game.
You must stop the invaders.
Why?
Today, most game designers are stunted and failed screenplay writers who would say- based upon their Star Wars and comic book addled haze of a childhood- a number of non-concerning reasons.
Because the fate of the world hangs in the balance!
Why?
One of the greatest games of all time, Doom, has a constant response to every why.
You must kill the monsters!
Why?
Because they are from Hell. And hell's pretty bad.
Why?
Because they've murdered all your comrades, your friends, your family, and you are trapped alone on mars. Everyone you once knew and loved is strung from the trees and walls, desperately taking in their final gasps of life in a haze of pain. You are trapped in a world where flesh and bone compose the walls, floors, ceilings. All the while creatures are looming around every corner to eviscerate you and claim the only remaining human soul that anyone knows of. For this, you are the last candle light of humanity before the unstoppable wind of evil snuffs out the once burning beacon of human existence in this solar system.
oh.
You really can't form a more complete narrative than that. Of course, the whys' will continue as the game progresses.
Why are their chainsaws and medical supplies in hell?
Why are the same groups of monsters constantly coming after me?
Why are these space bases laid out in a maze like fashion with no practical purpose?
Simple response: "Hell's a pretty fucked up place dude. You ever been there to say what it's like?"
I'm tempted to bring a recent modern game I've played, Uncharted 2, which was recently lumped with more praise that I'd ever care to make a case against. Unlike Doom's constant "why" response, Uncharted 2 leaves you with no responses.
Nathan Drake must claim the lost treasure of some place!
Why?
Cause he wants it.
Why?
Cause he is a treasure hunter.
Why?
Fuck you play our terribly acted game.
No.
As you begin to ask more questions, you're left with even worse responses.
Help Nathan Drake steal these maps!
Why?
Cause he wants them.
Why?
Cause.
That's it, that's the entire motivation for the game. Naughty Dog assumes you give a shit about helping a mass murder earn his riches.
It's pretty depressing that the general population is apparently eating up this pap. Each level introduces mechanics you will use only once in a blue moon all while attempting to make a loveable and human character out of a man who steals from museums because it benefits him.
In Grand Theft Auto 4 we played Niko Belic, a man who wasn't afraid to kill but realized the inhumanity of himself while taking part. The open sandbox parts didn't punish you engaging in ultra violence and the game always ignored your agency as a player in between missions.
This is a good thing. I know I occasionally want to fuck around with a game, so why should it have any bearing on the overarching story? It's akin to watching your favorite scenes off a DVD. The actors have no idea if you're either laughing at it or whacking off to it. It honestly makes no difference to them, they'll keep playing their part in the drama. You, on the other hand, are free to enjoy both the moment to moment excitement and the overarching irony taking place around them.
Uncharted 2, on the other hand, assumes you give a flying fuck about obeying it's amoral and unlikeable character's moral code.
Break into the museum and steal artifacts, but make sure to not kill any guards!
Why?
Because they are innocent.
Why?
Because fuck you, play our prescripted scenario.
Of course, in the following level you're apparently free to kill off similarly armed mercenaries as you please.
At no point in this game have I been told why I, as a player, should care. At least GTA4 you've got the promise of more free areas to explore and destroy as you please.
Which brings us all back to Doom. You care because you don't want to die. If you want to die then there's really no point for you to boot up this game now is there.
Unlike modern "masterpieces" such as Uncharted 2, your motivations outside of this overaching question of why are both self imposed and rewarded for exploring them.
Why do I want to find these secret areas in Doom?
Because you'll get access to better guns and items sooner, especially if you've croaked before in this level.
I cannot stress enough that Doom attains that intangible since of "place" and "weight" that so many other shooters have been attempting for years to capture. As you're zipping through the levels, each more convoluted than the last, you feel this unexplainable since of belonging.
The textures with all their bright 256 VGA colors feel real. Enemies made from photos of clay models and pixel art feel strangely menacing. More importantly, perhaps, all of these visuals allow you to develop iconic imagery with each level that allows you to navigate with purpose.
The next time you play a given level, you'll remember the basics of where items and keycards are and will then be tempted to explore the out limits of the map.
What if you attempt that jump?
What if you press against that wall which seems slightly out of place?
99% of the time, you'll be rewarded with a new secret area or simply a different way you might be able to approach a situation.
This point of "going back" to levels is another important facet of what makes Doom one of the greatest games of all time and continues to respond to "why": It's a game that grows with you.
You'll want to go back and replay this level on a harder difficulty.
Why?
Because you'll find new weapons, more enemies, and new challenges due to your changing physical attributes.
As you keep pushing yourself through the harder challenges, you'll find that tangible sense of place become more real on each playthrough. You'll learn to recognize and respond to every single monster. You'll learn the dirty little tricks of movement you didn't think were possible. You'll discover the funny little ticks and side benefits each powerup offers. You'll also find yourself pushing for faster and faster clear times.
In the end, you'll find that your greatest challenge lies in fighting with the geometry of the level itself and how it controls your assaults on the enemy.
That choice of the word assault, by the way, isn't merely a synonym for "fights". It means just that, assualt. You are faster, better armed, and smarter than any enemy in Doom. Assuming you know each monster and their capabilities, the only thing that could possibly kill you is any surprise attack the level itself could create.
More entertaining, however, is the fact their strength lies in numbers. Glorious glorious numbers.
A small fight will have at least 2 dozen monsters attempting to ambush you. A larger fight will be pushing the 50 mark. The best fights, however, will throw well over a hundred foes at you.
You will not stop shooting and you will not stop for a rest with pathetic concepts like "regenerating health" or "limited ammo". Instead, you're going to fight!
You'll ask once more, why should I fight so many goons?
Because it's a perfectly designed game.
2/28/10
Part 2
4: Half-Life
It's an unsurprising choice most folks make when noting their "top games" lists. It's an anachronistic choice when made today though. For our supposedly refined taste in games now, many of the elements in Half-Life are just plain silly either in or out of context. Chief among these being crates filled with ammo.
Today, when we play our epic cinematic masterpieces ammo is typically found in the most obvious places, off the bodies of the fallen. Some games take this process of ammo collection and make it an mini game in and of itself, such as recent PC gaming darling Crysis. There, a dedicated press of the action key is required before you can even pick up the ammo. In games such as Call of Duty 6: Modern Warfare 2- The Fall of Troy, the acquiring of ammo is so automatic that not even a sound effect chimes in to mark your pickups.
Meanwhile, in Half-Life, you smash an man sized crate with a crowbar to find exactly one rocket inside. This crate, logically enough, being located within an office complex.
As a staff member of an office complex I can say with great certainty, though not complete, that I have never once seen a missile fall out of a crate.
The beauty of the "smash the crate" action was, however, that it gussied up a the age old tradition of opening the treasure chest with something that felt very real and tactile.
I could list the other achievements of Half-Life- its two dozen different weapons, its unshifting perspective, its realistic level design, its lengthy playtime, its excellent multiplayer, and its fantastic expansion packs- but they all pale to the fact that Half-Life was the first polished shooter.
Compared to the other games I'll be running down on this countdown list, Half-Life was the only title that was feature complete right out of the box. There are no showstopping bugs, there is no need to wait for user content or patches to fix the game, and- most importantly- none of its mechanics are half baked.
Here's an example:
The Health/Armor Stations.
Bungie's Marathon games, forever landlocked on Mac platforms, were the first noteworthy titles to make use of wall mounted Medkits, despite the actual forefather of the concept being a rightfully forgotten title called Corridor 7. Marathon let the player recharge their energy at these vending machines at will.
What Bungie forgot, however, was providing the player with any other means of regenerating life. It became easy to trap yourself in a nigh unwinnable situation because you entered a level with barely any life and no Med station in sight for a good half hour or so. Furthermore, there was absolutely no risk involved in any Marathon map once these stations were discovered. Players could simply take a few hits from a fight, run back to the health teat, then recklessly charge back into the fray with nary a consequence.
Foreshadowing of modern FPS health systems I suppose.
Half-Life, though, offered players the sanctuary of the teat fairly frequently but with a finite number of health points each could bestow. Rather than seeing each health unit as something to suckle on through the entire mission, each had to be used sparingly get the most out of them. A succinct example of Valves "refine not innovate" philosophy.
Although I've claimed much ado about how much was included within the game itself, I can't deny its modding scene saved that game from being just another notch on the bedpost of PC gaming's "unappreciated gems".
Half-Life did give us Counter Strike after all. It also begot: Team Fortress Classic, Day of Defeat, Vampire Slayer, Action Half-Life, The Opera, They Hunger, Deathmatch Classic, and at least 30 different single player games I can barely remember playing.
In short, that single game could provide someone with enough content to last them at least a decade of games.
It offered me far more, it introduced me to a friend.
Half-Life cannot be undersold in its importance of shaping games we play now.
Go to www.steampowered.com and pick it up for ten bucks. It's the best money you'll have ever spent on a game.
It's an unsurprising choice most folks make when noting their "top games" lists. It's an anachronistic choice when made today though. For our supposedly refined taste in games now, many of the elements in Half-Life are just plain silly either in or out of context. Chief among these being crates filled with ammo.
Today, when we play our epic cinematic masterpieces ammo is typically found in the most obvious places, off the bodies of the fallen. Some games take this process of ammo collection and make it an mini game in and of itself, such as recent PC gaming darling Crysis. There, a dedicated press of the action key is required before you can even pick up the ammo. In games such as Call of Duty 6: Modern Warfare 2- The Fall of Troy, the acquiring of ammo is so automatic that not even a sound effect chimes in to mark your pickups.
Meanwhile, in Half-Life, you smash an man sized crate with a crowbar to find exactly one rocket inside. This crate, logically enough, being located within an office complex.
As a staff member of an office complex I can say with great certainty, though not complete, that I have never once seen a missile fall out of a crate.
The beauty of the "smash the crate" action was, however, that it gussied up a the age old tradition of opening the treasure chest with something that felt very real and tactile.
I could list the other achievements of Half-Life- its two dozen different weapons, its unshifting perspective, its realistic level design, its lengthy playtime, its excellent multiplayer, and its fantastic expansion packs- but they all pale to the fact that Half-Life was the first polished shooter.
Compared to the other games I'll be running down on this countdown list, Half-Life was the only title that was feature complete right out of the box. There are no showstopping bugs, there is no need to wait for user content or patches to fix the game, and- most importantly- none of its mechanics are half baked.
Here's an example:
The Health/Armor Stations.
Bungie's Marathon games, forever landlocked on Mac platforms, were the first noteworthy titles to make use of wall mounted Medkits, despite the actual forefather of the concept being a rightfully forgotten title called Corridor 7. Marathon let the player recharge their energy at these vending machines at will.
What Bungie forgot, however, was providing the player with any other means of regenerating life. It became easy to trap yourself in a nigh unwinnable situation because you entered a level with barely any life and no Med station in sight for a good half hour or so. Furthermore, there was absolutely no risk involved in any Marathon map once these stations were discovered. Players could simply take a few hits from a fight, run back to the health teat, then recklessly charge back into the fray with nary a consequence.
Foreshadowing of modern FPS health systems I suppose.
Half-Life, though, offered players the sanctuary of the teat fairly frequently but with a finite number of health points each could bestow. Rather than seeing each health unit as something to suckle on through the entire mission, each had to be used sparingly get the most out of them. A succinct example of Valves "refine not innovate" philosophy.
Although I've claimed much ado about how much was included within the game itself, I can't deny its modding scene saved that game from being just another notch on the bedpost of PC gaming's "unappreciated gems".
Half-Life did give us Counter Strike after all. It also begot: Team Fortress Classic, Day of Defeat, Vampire Slayer, Action Half-Life, The Opera, They Hunger, Deathmatch Classic, and at least 30 different single player games I can barely remember playing.
In short, that single game could provide someone with enough content to last them at least a decade of games.
It offered me far more, it introduced me to a friend.
Half-Life cannot be undersold in its importance of shaping games we play now.
Go to www.steampowered.com and pick it up for ten bucks. It's the best money you'll have ever spent on a game.
2/25/10
A List PART 1
So recently I've been getting asked by friends (they are not imaginary I swear) what I consider my tops five games to be.
It's a simple question really, as everyone is capable of rattling off a list of favorites at will. But then I got to thinking how could I objectively examine each game I've played based upon my own criteria of what is a "good game". This then creates the matter of complete subjectivity again and thus creates a temporal paradox but whatever.
Thus here were my three criteria when composing this list:
Design Quality: Is the control sound? Are the game rules in place logical and fun to follow? Is there a consistency throughout the ruleset?
Personal Significance: Is this game "important" to me? How have other games impacted my ideas on games by the contents of this title?
Longevity: Am I still playing this game now? Will I still be playing and talking about this game in the future? What impacts will this game have on future titles and even my life?
I can't deny this entire deal is as pompous and masturbatory as possible.
Without further adieu, onto the list.
5: Rock Band (Franchise)
Rock Band is a direct insult to both video games and music. At it's core, the game is a simple recreation of Simon where, at a perfect level of play, your only real decision making comes through where to double your points for a short time. Thus, it spits directly in the face of the entire design philosophy of player "agency" which countless games have been striving for over the past two decades.
For real musicians, the game has become a defacto signifier of "selling out". There is absolutely no real musical benefit for becoming "good" at the game, nor does it even come close to simulating the countless agonizing hours I have no doubt many musicians undergo when learning those opening notes of "Stairway to Heaven".
Despite all of this, it is a game I've clocked- were you to average it out over time- at least an hour a day for over two years. In terms of being a "most played game", Rock Band is- undoubtedly- it.
Games are, of course, about escapist fantasy. Could anybody deny the power of the "rockstar" fantasy? Rock Band, ultimately a futile exercise in chasing after a higher score, is second life in a box.
Let's go into a little backstory everyone loved so dearly with my FEAR 2 review.
It was January 2006 and I had just returned from winter break back to Fitchburg State. Once again, I was coming back from the mall with the now defunct Circuit City with a new game in tow. This game, know as "Guitar Hero", was a monstrosity few had ever seen before. It wasn't simply a "game" you bought for ninety bucks. No, this was a whole new beast.
It's oversized crate contained a guitar which, as related to me by one of my floormates in the front seat, looked "Like something meant for preschoolers". He wasn't incorrect, of course, but I believe his perspective might have been a touch jaded. He was, after all, an actual guitarist.
The ride to the mall Gamestop is a rather surreal experience in retrospect, feeling as if it took place almost a lifetime ago. Buying the game was essentially a fluke in and of itself. Being a fan of any title with a big controller attached to it, a quick glance over an online review was enough to convince me to check it out.
That evening, as the wails of a poorly covered Boston song echoed the halls, I had found a new addiction.
Guitar Hero 1 was a very flawed game technically, resulting in an absolutely skewered difficulty curve when it came to jumping between skill levels. Of course, hindsight is always 20/20 so at the time it was borderline nirvana.
Everyone on the floor had a different song they enjoyed hearing and playing. Roommate one, Matt, always enjoyed clicking along with Ziggy Stardust while roommate two, Dan, would end up singing along to Stellar unconsciously.
It created a sort of "meta" game for us. Me and Matt would trade scores back and forth on Ziggy while Dan would occasionally play along on his acoustic. At the same time, it was just so restrictive. "Man," Matt would typically quip, "they really need some drums in this." I, meanwhile, would wonder why I couldn't play the bass.
Guitar Hero 2 entered the scene with less fanfare than the first. I believed I'd gotten my fill of the first game and the tracklist of the second was average at best, but the addition of a second player made the experience far more interesting if only to have different tracks to play with.
When Rock Band was released in November of 2007, I remember driving through almost blizzard like conditions to get the boxed instrument set. While the GH series hinted at a sort of "meta" experience, Rock Band was a new world.
I found, connected and fell out with an entire group of friends due to the game. Even typing that sentence now creates a rather nostalgic headrush. Booting up the game for the first time and hitting the opening lick of "Mississippi Queen", complete with the clack of the drumsticks and the off-tempo singing of a lost friend, still resonates with me.
I can even remember the song I was singing the night shit really hit the fan: "Pretend We're Dead". A fitting anthem.
Even now, that group long since gone, I still chip away with my plastic guitar. Last summer I journeyed into Boston with some old high school friends to play the game with some of the developers and other fans at the Hancock Theater. As we played Foreplay/Longtime with the audience clapping and booing in time, the dissipation between the reality and fantasy was complete. It's more than a game and it's far more than a feeling I guess.
STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT PART
It's a simple question really, as everyone is capable of rattling off a list of favorites at will. But then I got to thinking how could I objectively examine each game I've played based upon my own criteria of what is a "good game". This then creates the matter of complete subjectivity again and thus creates a temporal paradox but whatever.
Thus here were my three criteria when composing this list:
Design Quality: Is the control sound? Are the game rules in place logical and fun to follow? Is there a consistency throughout the ruleset?
Personal Significance: Is this game "important" to me? How have other games impacted my ideas on games by the contents of this title?
Longevity: Am I still playing this game now? Will I still be playing and talking about this game in the future? What impacts will this game have on future titles and even my life?
I can't deny this entire deal is as pompous and masturbatory as possible.
Without further adieu, onto the list.
5: Rock Band (Franchise)
Rock Band is a direct insult to both video games and music. At it's core, the game is a simple recreation of Simon where, at a perfect level of play, your only real decision making comes through where to double your points for a short time. Thus, it spits directly in the face of the entire design philosophy of player "agency" which countless games have been striving for over the past two decades.
For real musicians, the game has become a defacto signifier of "selling out". There is absolutely no real musical benefit for becoming "good" at the game, nor does it even come close to simulating the countless agonizing hours I have no doubt many musicians undergo when learning those opening notes of "Stairway to Heaven".
Despite all of this, it is a game I've clocked- were you to average it out over time- at least an hour a day for over two years. In terms of being a "most played game", Rock Band is- undoubtedly- it.
Games are, of course, about escapist fantasy. Could anybody deny the power of the "rockstar" fantasy? Rock Band, ultimately a futile exercise in chasing after a higher score, is second life in a box.
Let's go into a little backstory everyone loved so dearly with my FEAR 2 review.
It was January 2006 and I had just returned from winter break back to Fitchburg State. Once again, I was coming back from the mall with the now defunct Circuit City with a new game in tow. This game, know as "Guitar Hero", was a monstrosity few had ever seen before. It wasn't simply a "game" you bought for ninety bucks. No, this was a whole new beast.
It's oversized crate contained a guitar which, as related to me by one of my floormates in the front seat, looked "Like something meant for preschoolers". He wasn't incorrect, of course, but I believe his perspective might have been a touch jaded. He was, after all, an actual guitarist.
The ride to the mall Gamestop is a rather surreal experience in retrospect, feeling as if it took place almost a lifetime ago. Buying the game was essentially a fluke in and of itself. Being a fan of any title with a big controller attached to it, a quick glance over an online review was enough to convince me to check it out.
That evening, as the wails of a poorly covered Boston song echoed the halls, I had found a new addiction.
Guitar Hero 1 was a very flawed game technically, resulting in an absolutely skewered difficulty curve when it came to jumping between skill levels. Of course, hindsight is always 20/20 so at the time it was borderline nirvana.
Everyone on the floor had a different song they enjoyed hearing and playing. Roommate one, Matt, always enjoyed clicking along with Ziggy Stardust while roommate two, Dan, would end up singing along to Stellar unconsciously.
It created a sort of "meta" game for us. Me and Matt would trade scores back and forth on Ziggy while Dan would occasionally play along on his acoustic. At the same time, it was just so restrictive. "Man," Matt would typically quip, "they really need some drums in this." I, meanwhile, would wonder why I couldn't play the bass.
Guitar Hero 2 entered the scene with less fanfare than the first. I believed I'd gotten my fill of the first game and the tracklist of the second was average at best, but the addition of a second player made the experience far more interesting if only to have different tracks to play with.
When Rock Band was released in November of 2007, I remember driving through almost blizzard like conditions to get the boxed instrument set. While the GH series hinted at a sort of "meta" experience, Rock Band was a new world.
I found, connected and fell out with an entire group of friends due to the game. Even typing that sentence now creates a rather nostalgic headrush. Booting up the game for the first time and hitting the opening lick of "Mississippi Queen", complete with the clack of the drumsticks and the off-tempo singing of a lost friend, still resonates with me.
I can even remember the song I was singing the night shit really hit the fan: "Pretend We're Dead". A fitting anthem.
Even now, that group long since gone, I still chip away with my plastic guitar. Last summer I journeyed into Boston with some old high school friends to play the game with some of the developers and other fans at the Hancock Theater. As we played Foreplay/Longtime with the audience clapping and booing in time, the dissipation between the reality and fantasy was complete. It's more than a game and it's far more than a feeling I guess.
STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT PART
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