Saturday, January 31, 2009

january 2009: month in review

SO UPSET Charge Shot!!!’s second month of life was about triumph in the face of adversity. Rob and I took on expanded duties at our day jobs, and while the number of things we had to do increased the amount we were paid stayed exactly the same. His previous production having finished at the end of December, Craig had to stare down the awful economy in an attempt to find some work. He succeeded, but the job and the search made him quite a busy boy as well.

Nevertheless we persevered, and we have a lot to show for our efforts – we’re slowly but steadily gaining readers, and in between tweaking the layout and having ridiculous weekly meetings via Skype, we cranked out some writing that I think we’re all pretty proud of. Hit the jump for the cream of the crop!

Craig continued unabated with his weekly Audiosurf Radio posts, and made trembling baby-deer steps forward in his quest to win ten games of Starcraft. He also declared himself Indie Game King of the World and wrote about Minotaur China Shop and the superb Dyson, whose frantic gameplay belies its calm exterior.

Craig also responded to a post I did about the increasing irrelevance of the PC as a platform for AAA games. I also apparently caught his indie bug, because I talked about Braid and Castle Crashers. This is all on top of a post about the gradual slowdown of the gaming industry, and just a couple days ago I tried to stir up some controversy with a piece about the topics games avoid.

Because I have to, I’ll also talk about Rob. He had a bit of a backward-looking month, talking about the slow fading of some of his favorite genres, among them survival horror, the flight simulator and the MechWarrior games. He also amused us with tales of the antics of his otherworldly dog in Fallout 3, and posted about a minute-long commercial with more emotional impact than one of 2008’s most acclaimed games.

Our contributors, bless their hearts, weren’t around as much this month, but we forgive them. This time. Boivin managed to write a nice love letter to Left 4 Dead and also revealed something about his deepest desires, while Gene… well, where is that guy anyway?

As if that wasn’t enough, we brought you two nice interviews: the first a Q&A with the lovely Jonathan “the Still Alive guy” Coulton, and the next an in-depth talk with Audiosurf mastermind Dylan Fitterer. Also we kept churning out briefs, something that with a little luck might be someone else’s job soon.

That’s a lot of stuff to digest, but hey, if you don’t read it then why are we writing it? February looms, cold and foreboding, the deepest darkness just before the dawn of spring. Wish us luck.

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yakety sax is the best game music in the world

god bless you boots randolphOh Yakety Sax, better known as the Benny Hill theme, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Okay, I’m not really going to count the ways. I don’t want to be here that long, and neither do you. Suffice it to say that salt is to food as Yakety Sax is to everything in the entire world – you technically don’t need it and too much of it will kill you, but damned if it doesn’t make everything just a little bit better.

This naturally applies to video games as well.

It all started with the well-below average Jurassic Park: Trespasser demo. I was told by a friend, either Gene or Rob, about its many faults, and determined to see them for myself I located and downloaded it. Playing it was hilarious – everything moves like it is filled with helium and your character’s arm is completely bone-free, something that gets in the way when you’re trying to do simple tasks like wielding a weapon or progressing forward in the game. The demo was made tolerable by an unholy union, something God never intended – in order to accentuate the game’s already ridiculous tendencies, I put on Yakety Sax. Instant classic, and if you can still find the Trespasser demo it’s well worth the effort.

Fast forward to a few years later. There were about five days between when I bought my Xbox 360 and when the hard drive arrived in the mail. Having just blown all my money and without the storage space for downloadable games, I was forced to contemplate the lukewarm pack-in titles. One, Shitty Sega Tennis, provided nothing by way of thrills, and my general lack of affection for the Sonic series (I can’t even play the “good” ones) eliminated the nostalgia factor. Enter Pac Man Championship Edition, the best of the games on the Xbox Live Arcade disc included with all Arcade consoles. I loved the game but its droning techno music did nothing for me, so I connected my iPod and set it to shuffle. After a few songs, what should come up but dear old Yakety Sax? It was a perfect fit, a match made in heaven – anyone with a pulse can tell you that Pac Man is heavy on chasing, and maybe one in five British people can probably tell you that The Benny Hill Show is as well. Zipping around corners, eluding ghosts and turning the tables with power pellets all get a new lease on life when played to the sweet sounds of that happy sax.

I decided to see how deep the rabbit hole went. Upon my receipt of the hard drive and some Christmas money, I found Beautiful Katamari buried amidst mountains of Wii games in the bargain bin of a local establishment. Katamari’s crazy vibe lends itself well to Yakety Sax, and the fact that Beautiful Katamari’s soundtrack couldn’t hold a candle to the first two games’ only drove me into the arms of the song that much faster.

Next up, Castle Crashers, another game whose frantic nature fit Yakety Sax like a glove. Especially in the many, many unsolicited deathmatches I played with friends who apparently thought it was hilarious to wrest control from the leader of our party and herd us into the battle arena over. And over. Again. Still, I had my fix, and it felt fantastic.

I stopped eating and sleeping around the same time game characters started chasing each other around in my mind’s eye. Fevered and restless, I spent all of my time searching for my next big score. Not all games worked with Yakety Sax like I wanted them to. Mega Man’s 8 bit sound effects got in the way, and I didn’t want to turn the music off anyway. Banjo Kazooie was too slow for it. Relief came from an unlikely source, just after I developed my third ulcer. Braid, quiet, quirky, introspective little Braid, so classy and thoughtful when played as delivered, becomes a veritable orgy of madness on Yakety Sax’s watch. Using the time-bending mechanics in any capacity was now simply goofy instead of awe-inspiring, and that yakety sax just kept on blaring, as if mocking the game’s sudden loss of dignity. I grinned a toothless grin, my teeth having fallen out in the shower days before. I again felt the heady rush of adrenaline and endorphins as I played – this, I thought, must be how a heroin addict feels when he hears Yakety Sax.

By the time I was being rushed by hordes of undead in the Re5ident Evil demo, once again set to Yakety Sax, I had come to resemble many of the game’s zombies. Gangrenous and crazed, Yakety Sax occupied my every waking moment, and Benny Hill’s grinning moon-gob haunted my fleeting dreams. As I lay here dying and, um, writing a blog post, I think back fondly to my times with Boots Randolph’s magnum opus. My obsession with the song lost me my job, my girlfriend, my apartment, and my skin is coming off in big chunks, but I still love Yakety Sax and it still loves me.

Life well spent.

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Friday, January 30, 2009

brought to you by the world video boxing association

any game starring mike tyson nowadays would play more like saint's row than punch out, right? Word is that the new Punch Out!! game for the Wii is due out in the first half of 2009. It's an ambiguous release date, but I'll take it.

For those unfamiliar, Punch Out!! is the tale of a tiny boxer who fights stereotypes, all of which are several times his own size. The series has been dormant since 1994's excellent Super Punch Out!! for the Super Nintendo, at which point someone from Standards and Practices probably took one look at Piston Honda and Great Tiger and said "guys, this is not okay."

Early reports indicate that at least a few of the old crew will be back, including pushover Glass Joe and fan favorite King Hippo. I only hope that the game's colorful roster isn't neutered in the name of political correctness - it's great to be sensitive to issues of race, don't misunderstand me, but Punch Out!! loses much of its sense of humor if your remove the playful mockeries of other cultures. The opponent from Russia? His name is Vodka Drunkenski. Don't take that away from me. Continue...

Syrian Game to Teach Us About the Middle East

According to the Christian Science Monitor (via GamePolitics), Syrian developer Afkar Media is making an Age of Empires-style game titled Al-Quraysh.

Why is this news? Because of the tall order Al-Quraysh is expected to fill. Radwan Kasmiya, an Afkar Media exec, said:

“Al-Quraysh is going to help people in the West better understand the people who are living in the East. We want to show that this civilization was a sort of practical and almost heavenly civilization.”

Okay, Mr. Kasmiya, so you want us to know a bit more about your region’s history than we do now (aka nothing). Nothing wrong with that. I’m also a fan of this comment:

“Most video games on the market are anti-Arab and anti-Islam. Arab gamers are playing games that attack their culture, their beliefs, and their way of life. The youth who are playing the foreign games are feeling guilt... But we also don't want to do [a game] about Arabs killing Westerners.”

Obviously not all games coming out of the US are anti-Arab/Islam, but we have seen a rise in war games that use a fictional or unnamed Middle-Eastern territory as their theater (Call of Duty 4, Full Spectrum Warrior). I applaud your commitment to not perpetuating a cycle of simulated violence.

My (albeit slightly winking) worry is the culture-pride agenda of the game. My advice: make a good game, then worry about the cultural impact. If it’s worth playing, we’ll take notice. Remember the last time someone made something they said carried the hopes and dreams of their culture and it was awful?

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Darkness and Starlight, or When the Nostalgia Well Runs Dry

He just wants a drink. How he ended up in the desert I have no idea. Video game music, especially from the 8- and 16-bit era, holds a special place in the hearts of most gamers. If it didn’t, groups like The Minibosses and The Advantage wouldn’t be around. If it didn’t, Video Games Live – a cacophony of choirs, orchestras, and video footage – wouldn’t currently be touring the US and Canada, luring manboys from their basements and into arenas with snippets of Mario and Zelda.

Other game musicians have gotten in on the NostalgiaRockact. In 2003, Nobuo Uematsu, the renowned Final Fantasy composer whose work includes every numbered entry in the series formed a rock band called The Black Mages. Their style: what I can only call progressive metal (not unlike your Trans-Siberian Orchestras). Their outfit: Uematsu on the synth/organ, two guitarists, a keyboardist, bass, and drums. Their repertoire: Final Fantasy songs. Their freshman outing included some of the most well known of the series’ battle themes, including tracks from VI, VII, and the fight theme from the original Final Fantasy that started it all .

In March of 2008, The Black Mages released their third effort Darkness and Starlight. I’m blaming the Pacific Ocean for my not having heard of it sooner. Hit the jump for my review.

My impression after listening to this album is that Uematsu’s well is beginning to run dry. As I mentioned above, he used up most of his best rock-ready songs on the first CD. Their second release saw a few FFIV tracks (which made me happy), but it also included a few FFX tracks with some awful vocals. Check out this sample of “Otherworld.” On Darkness and Starlight, vocals are reserved for a fifteen minute rendition of the opera from VI. More on that later.

Back to the dry well. There are two FFVIII tracks on here. Two. Nobody liked that game. There’s a track from FFIII, the Famicom one that no one played until Squeenix wanted more money and redid it for the DS. There’s a song from FFXI. XI? You mean the MMO that I’ve never heard of anyone playing? Suffice to say, I didn’t have high expectations when I started listening.

First, let’s get the average ones out of the way. “The Extreme” is an adequate arrangement of the VIII track by the same name. It’s got a good mix, blistering guitar, but remains a song for which I have no nostalgia. “Assault of the Silver Dragons,” from the end of FFIX, features a machine-gun guitar riff for a theme and a helluva lot of synth solos. The general theme in FFV’s “Neo EXDEATH” is a little too “I’m trying to be spooky,” but the staccato guitar melody that pops up now and again is really tight. “KURAYAMINOKUMO” is from FFIII – you know, the one with the onion kids. It’s probably the boss battle, who knows. Uematsu’s melody is insane, I get the feeling he’s trying to show off. The guitar solo stands out on this one, channeling some Joe Satriani (not illegally though). Every once in a while the guitarists sound like they’ve been listening to a lot of Zakk Wylde. “Grand Cross” is one of those times. It’s the final battle theme from IX which I guess means I should remember it (I don’t). It fits into the running theme of this paragraph: “These were fine, but maybe you could have found an even better song?” There is a great metrical moment, however, about three minutes in. It goes from a measure of 8 to a measure of 7, back to an 8 and then a 9 before kicking into a new section. It tickles my cerebellum.

Remember before when I mocked Uematsu for the VIII tracks? Well, I forgive him for including “Premonition.” Since I’ve done my best to strike the game my memory, I have no recollection of what this track’s original sounds like. And I don’t want one. There’s a great sense of forward motion to the arrangement – the main theme travels up and down in register effortlessly, and shifting phrases organically cue the solos, as opposed to the solos attacking the songs as they do on other tracks.

Do you recall that time before when I ridiculed the choice of a FFXI track? Yeah, well I had good reason to. “Distant Worlds” doesn’t belong here. It’s a ballad done by a band that shouldn’t do ballads. It’s not that the chord progression or melody are bad. It’s that it sounds like it should on Now That’s What I Call Power Ballads! It’s Uematsu at his 80s-lighter-waving sappiest. Right down to the kick-down-the-door guitar solo key change. Would anyone who has actually played FFXI care to tell me where the hell this schmaltzy nonsense goes in your Second-Life-has-more-users-than-me waste of an MMO?

Then there was the 15-minute version of the opera from FFVI that I mentioned. Surely, Uematsu is trying to capture the magic of his epic “Dancing Mad” arrangement from the first album. Nice try. “Darkness and Starlight” is an awkward song, which stands out when (regardless of song selection) the band and their arrangements are remarkably tight. There’s awkward Japanese voice acting. There’s awkward Japanese opera-singing. Listening to not-so-great operatic singing over crunching guitars and a synthezier orchestra is the auditory equivalent of two middle-schoolers dancing. Holding each other at uncomfortable arm's length, they want to enjoy their time together - they just don’t know how. And neither do I.

The standout track is “Opening ~ Bombing Mission,” which is a wonderful rendition of the opening of FFVII. The synth strings at the start sound just like the original, and the big fat guitar melody matches the grandeur of the game’s opening screen. It then launches into a furious bass ostinato, echoed in some impressive palm-muted rhythm guitar. The solos, electric guitars and wailing synth, fit the post-steampunk industrial hell of FFVII’s Midgar. Furthermore, the song evolves organically underneath the solos, with synth horn fills progressing just as they do in the original. It’s an extremely tight arrangement, worth the 99¢ on iTunes if you’re like me and aren’t in love with the whole album.

For whatever reason, Uematsu also included a piece called “Life – in memory of KEITEN-.” It’s just him playing the piano. I’d just as rather listen to, you know, Chopin if I wanted some chill piano music. But I shouldn’t knock Uematsu’s keyboard skills, his stuff is taught in Japanese music theory classes after all.

Overall, Darkness and Starlight bears resemblance to its title: largely featureless, with a few brightly shining lights. If you were going to buy just part of the album, stick with “Opening ~ Bombing Mission” and “Premonition.” It might be my personal experience with the series speaking, but I’m pretty confident Uematsu’s running out of worthwhile Final Fantasy songs for his prog metal band. I hope he realizes this and moves onto Chrono Trigger songs next. In the meantime, I still have OverClocked.

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Thursday, January 29, 2009

Gravity in Mushroom Kingdom Weakening, Toads Worried

A recent study by Brooklyn physics teacher Glenn Elert and his students shows that the the rate of Acceleration Due to Gravity in the Mario games has weakened over time.

Armed with gameplay footage, Quicktime, and the assumption that Mario is five feet tall, the budding physicists determined the acceleration rate in m/s² for Super Mario Bros., SMB 2, SMB 3, Super Mario World, Super Mario 64, Super Mario Sunshine, and Paper Mario. They even made a nifty graph.

The conclusion is that the evolution of game hardware is bringing Mario game gravity closer to the value of gravity on Earth. It started at over nine times Earth’s gravity in the original NES game and has decreased to four or five times Earth’s gravity in Sunshine and Super Paper Mario. Normal people tend to pass out past 5gs, so I am left questioning whether or not Lou Albano could have actually cut it in the Mushroom Kingdom.

However, these findings neglect to mention that not all of the games covered take place in the Kingdom. SMB 2 took place in the Subcon (Mario’s dreams), meaning we should probably see Peach’s flight ability as a metaphor for Mario’s feelings for her rather than as canon. Super Mario 64 takes place in paintings, so that can’t be trusted. I was going to make an argument against Dinosaur Land in Super Mario World as well but the Super Mario wiki set me straight (and made me lose a little bit of respect for myself and humanity). Still, the majority of the games do take place in the Mushroom Kingdom, so it is possible to make a general statement about the falling value of gravity in the Kingdom.

I can’t believe I thought about this long enough to write a brief.

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Resident Evil 5 Is Going To Kick Ass.


Monday I gassed about the survival horror genre. Today, I am here to tell you something important: Survival horror or not, Resident Evil 5 is going to kick ass. I’ve been blowing my way through the demo since Monday, and the March 13 release date feels so very far away. RE5 (or RE5IDENT EVIL if you please. No? Okay.) doesn’t reinvent what worked so well in Resident Evil 4 – in fact, it seems to have hardly touched it. Accessing the menu no longer pauses the game, your stable of melee attacks has expanded, and it looks much prettier: beyond that, nothing has changed.

Except for that other person you play with.


In my case, this person was our beloved, hapless co-editor, Andrew, who I watched blossom from an absolute liability into a quasi-lethal, mostly harmless girl with a gun – but more on that later. Resident Evil 5 picks up roughly where 4 left off. The sinister biologics corporation Umbrella is gone, the sinister fruits of their labor scattered to the winds to be snapped up by terrorists and third-world warlords. You resume the role of Chris Redfield, the zombie-killing commando from Resident Evil 1. Your job is to prevent zombie outbreaks before they occur – and yes, they are zombies, not “gonados” or “infected.” Shut up.

This brings you to an unspecified desert shithole that, like Far Cry 2, smacks of Mogadishu. Honestly, is Black Hawk Down the only movie anyone has ever seen? I hear post-apartheid Cape Town is very nice. Anyway, there are some Indigenous Residents Whom I Will Not Stereotype by Referring to as “Black” (IRWIWNSR”B”, pronounced “Ear-wee-WIN-serb”) who are very pissed off, and one inexplicably large, hooded executioner who seems content to swing around his axe regardless of who gets in the way. In this scenario, I am Chris Redfield, whose every swell and vein is lovingly and glisteningly rendered, and Andrew is Sheva, a svelte gunwoman of uncertain ethnicity. In the first stage, “Public Assembly,” I have a shotgun, and he (she?) has a rifle. We’re in a room and the IRWIWNSR”B”s are coming for us.

A veteran of RE4, I instruct Andrew to barricade the doors with bookcases – a temporary solution, but it allows us to dictate the pace of the battle. My mic crackles.

“I have a knife. Check it out,” he says. “Melons!”

I barricade the doors while Andrew slices fruit. Believe it or not, this is how all of our co-op excursions go – as college freshmen, our feeble performance in inter-dorm Halo 2 matches caused us to form Team Suck, an alliance dedicated to humorous self-destruction. Extra points were granted for narfing coveted vehicles and ruining them senselessly.

As Andrew giggled, I felt the resurrection of Team Suck close at hand. Then he found the B button.

“Come on!” Sheva shouted, waving at me. Then she said it again. And again. And again, a chorus of “COMEONCOMEONCOMEON” spilling from my TV while Andrew cackled in my ear. The barricades collapsed, and zombies spilled into the room.

As in Resident Evil 4, combat is a mix of third-person shooting and quick time events. Pulling the left trigger aims your gun, but immobilizes your character, making it easy to get mobbed from behind. Choosing where to shoot from is as important as pulling the trigger.

A shot to the knee will halt an IRWIWNSR”B” making them vulnerable to an uppercut, hook, or straight on face-pounded, executed with the B button. Knocked-down zombies get a boot to the sternum. Your common IRWIWNSR”B” carries rifle cartridges, 9mm bullets, gold doubloons, and perhaps less curiously, green herbs rattling around in their pockets.

If this sounds like a gussied-up version of Resident Evil 4, it is – that is, until you play the game with a friend. Capcom’s co-op bag of tricks is at first glance astounding, then increasingly obvious. For example, Chris can hurl his lithe partner across rooftops, or give her a boostie to high ledges. Once separated, one player inevitably has to support the other. In the second playable level “Shanty Town,” I chucked Andrew onto an adjacent building. He descended a staircase, and was mobbed by zombies. Because the building was blown in half, I was able to snipe the nasties off him. In close-quarters situations, you can help entangled teammates by punching zombies in the face. Really, all the work gets done with your fists.

More subtle, however, is the rhythm of bait-and-retreat that players can use to lure zombies into tactical disadvantage. The experience becomes a hybrid between shooter and strategy game; players who work together find the game much easier, and much more satisfying.

It didn’t take long for Andrew to die – or to start dying, rather. In a system akin to Gears of War, players can limp into the arms of a teammate for healing potion, or in lieu of an herb, a magical, resuscitative pat on the back. Once I’d wasted all my herbs on him, Axeman came around. Shooting a propane tank only slowed him, though it did display the game’s stunning pyrotechnic effects – some barrels explode, while others leak a steady stream of flaming fluid, igniting anyone nearby. I find the latter prettier, and more satisfying.

Andrew preferred the explosions –even more so when they involved me. On “Shanty Town:”
Andrew: Hey Rob, c’mere.
Self: No.
Andrew: No, really. There’s something cool I want to show you.
Self: It’s a red barrel, Andrew. I know what this is.
Andrew: There’s some cool writing on the side.
Self: …fine. Let’s get this over with.

You can imagine how this ended. A round through the temple was called for, but Capcom disabled friendly fire – bad for revenge (I call it discipline), but good for dusting zombies off your teammate with buckshot. Splash damage, however, is indiscriminate. Thank you, Andrew.

Once my partner was able to overcome both his unfamiliarity with the series and homicidal urges, we started working as a team, luring zombies into dead ends and dropping grenades on their heads. At our most effective, we knew where the other was, where the other was going, and where we needed to be. It reminds me of another co-op zombie game, one with which I’ve had less experience; but from what I can tell, RE5 is a slower, more cerebral, and more gratifying co-op experience than Left 4 Dead.

And from the snippets of dialog exhibited, it seems the series will end its love affair with shitty writing. Don’t quote us on that.

Come March 13, Andrew and I will tackle the full version in all its glory. Stay tuned for the further adventures of Team Suck. And for those on the fence, rest assured: Resident Evil 5 will be the purest incarnation of zombie action to date. That you can quote me on.


(Andrew made me.)

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Wednesday, January 28, 2009

help still wanted

what have you got to lose, right? This is a gentle reminder that you can still apply to be our new Briefs Editor if you want. Imagine a world where you could write posts like this or this or this one once or twice every day if you wanted. That’s a lot of words, and you yes you yourself could be the one putting them on the Internet if you get your samples to editors@charge-shot.com by January 31st or so!

We’d love to have you and, let’s face it, you’d love to have us. See the prior post for a description of the position and what it pays (it doesn’t).

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columbine, 9/11, war and death: games vs. weighty issues

Quick, think of the most controversial game you can, the one that you’ve heard the most grousing about in the media for the last few years. I’m willing to bet that most of you went right to Grand Theft Auto, but maybe those of you a little better-versed in games thought of Manhunt 2 or some other such thing. Why are these games considered controversial? Violence is the one-word answer, or maybe murder – games like this let you or even require you to kill people, to steal cars and have sex with ladies of questionable background. They also disassociate cause from effect – breaking the law in these games often goes unpunished unless you happen to steal something that is sitting right in front of a police officer. Parents and disbarred attorneys alike worry that these games are desensitizing our youth, despite lack of solid evidence to back it up. This is controversial in the world of video games.

Yet, violence is a staple in other media. Consider this past summer’s The Dark Knight – gritty, murderous, brooding and sometimes genuinely disturbing, it didn’t stir up much if any controversy, and made a million billion dollars to boot. To be truly controversial, a movie or book needs to go much further. Take Bill Mahr’s Religulous, which ends by telling the viewer that all organized religion is dangerous and wrong and will be the end of us all – this point is delivered by Mahr in the last minutes of his movie, set to inordinately dramatic music. Pretty controversial, but the movie still got a fairly wide release and plenty of talk show hosts had Mahr in to promote the film on national television. Imagine a game that did something like this. I can’t. My question for you, the reader: why can’t games ask the hard questions? Why can’t games tackle some issues with some real weight behind them?

Let’s take the Iraq war as an example. In the last five years there have been books, movies, songs, television shows, paintings and poems have been made using the war as their subject, whether they are critical of it or otherwise. Where are the games that tackle this issue head-on? There are plenty of games about war and fighting - turns out that most of them are still back in a sterile, Holocaust-less version of World War II, dealing with a thoroughly dehumanized enemy painted in broad black and white strokes with little room for grey in between. Just as many war games take place in an unfamiliar future, or perhaps on another world similar to but distinct from our own. Controversy: avoided.

Part of the reason games can’t be about the Iraq war is because it’s current and it’s deeply divisive – the game would unavoidably have to take a stance on the issue. The problem with giving your game an opinion is that you will invariably alienate most people on the opposite side, and this would directly effect your bottom line. Seeing Religulous out of curiosity costs ten bucks and takes less than two hours, and seeing a movie is naturally a more passive activity than playing a game. Who is going to spend $60 and ten to twelve hours of their time on something they simply don’t agree with, even if the gameplay is excellent? And what are the chances if the gameplay isn’t excellent? And what if someone who hates your viewpoint gives your game a 6.0 instead of an 8.5? You can see why no one wants to take this bet.

That’s not to say that no one has ever made a controversial statement using games as his or her medium. There are two games in particular I have in mind, the first being Super Columbine Massacre RPG! It is, as its name implies, a role playing game which casts you as the gunmen in the 1999 Columbine school shooting. I found the controversy everyone – it is over here. Danny Ledone, the game’s creator, was at the time of the shootings disturbed to see qualities of the assailants in himself. His intention was not to marginalize the events, but to explore via game the motivations behind them, and to disassociate violent games from the shootings. Though many recognized his intent, the press was widely critical of the game. It was pulled from an indie gaming competition, prompting others to withdraw in protest. It was a game that took on an uncomfortable subject, and it made people uneasy.

More recently, artist Douglas Stanely put up for exhibit a piece called Invaders!, pictured at the top of the post. A takeoff of Space Invaders, this piece depicts the familiar aliens slowly descending upon the World Trade Center towers, firing all the while. As in Space Invaders, there is no chance of victory – no matter how good you are, one of the endless waves of aliens will eventually defeat you, and in this particular version will destroy the twin towers as well. It was intended by Stanely as a commentary on US foreign policy, highlighting the futility of war against endless waves of insurgents and extremists. Press coverage was, again, unkind to the piece, and it was also pulled from its exhibit.

Are people who make games like Super Columbine Massacre RPG and Invaders! simply making a grab for attention, trying to stir up controversy for controversy’s sake? Perhaps – after all, any press is good press. At least in these two projects, though, the artists have stepped up and defended their creations as artistically viable, trying to make a statement but not necessarily seeking the spotlight which was eventually turned on them. We already know why people don’t want to make games with viewpoints, but why are games that do deal in weighty issues scrutinized so heavily?

Part of the reason is because of preconceived notions people have about games, and about the people who play them. For a long time, games were marketed toward kids and teenage boys as distractions, as simple escapist fun. The fact is that this notion is by now years out-of-date. That many present-day gamers are in their 30s and have children themselves, that they are men and women of all ages and from all walks of life, that different people in different countries all over the world play different games for different reasons has done little to dispel this image, which becomes an immediate problem when you try to use the form as a vehicle for artistic expression. Games are supposed to be fun distractions for kids – when you drop something as serious and as awful and as society-changing as Columbine or 9/11 into a game, people naturally assume that you’re trying to make it entertaining, that you’re literally trying to make fun of it. This is not always the case, but with Super Columbine Massacre RPG’s cartoonish graphics and the pixilated retro stylings of Invaders! it’s easy to see why people think of these outings as lightweight fluff with little substance.

I realize that these “games” make people skittish – writing this post, writing a defense for games like this is making me feel a little uneasy too. They’re big issues, ones with a still-forming historical perspective, and we’re not detached enough from them to welcome art about them with open arms, especially commercial art. Still, there is 9/11 art. There is art about the Columbine shootings. These things, while sometimes controversial, are allowed to exist – this is freedom of speech in action. Why are reactions so much more horrified when events like these are brought up in games? Comment sections on posts about the Invaders! piece are filled with 200, 300, sometimes almost 400 comments between gamers debating the merits of the work. Clearly many gamers are willing and able to debate the subject matter intelligently (or unintelligently) – come on, guys. Make a World War II game that also deals with the horrors of the Holocaust. Make a colonial real-time strategy game that confronts the unfortunate reality of slavery. It would prove that games can be more than just shallow meaningless time wasters, it would inspire debate, and it might even educate or, better yet, have a lasting emotional effect on someone. It might make people uneasy, but if the medium is to grow up, it has to put on its big boy pants and tackle grown-up, complicated issues with more regularity.

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Tuesday, January 27, 2009

f.e.a.r. 2 demo - thank you sir may i have another

fear In the summer of 2005 I built my first gaming computer using money from my unglamorous third shift job. Ordering it piece by piece and then putting everything together helped me maintain my tenuous grip on sanity, and after a processor, hard drive, graphics card and monitor upgrade, the same computer continues to serve me today, happily running the Windows 7 beta. The four-year-old keyboard is filthy, but the rest of it is in good working order.

It is (technically) on this same computer that I downloaded and installed my first PC demo, for the hotly-anticipated F.E.A.R. My experiences with this game have been detailed elsewhere, and I agree wholeheartedly with the assessment given there – F.E.A.R. was simply Better As A Demo. Still, it was my first foray into PC gaming, and like many first experiences I remember it fondly, even if in retrospect it was not all that great.

Imagine my nostalgia, then, when I saw the F.E.A.R. 2 demo crop up on Xbox Live late last week. If the demo is any indication it appears to be a by-the-numbers sequel, but because the first game still has a special place in my memory I will offer up some impressions anyway.

Present are the nuggets of gameplay that made the first F.E.A.R. worthwhile – big, fun weapons and satisfying, visceral combat. The even-old-news-in-2005 slow motion mechanic continues to function as a giant Easy Button, making the somewhere-above-average enemy targets sitting ducks, ripe for a shotgun blast to the face. Hey, they even threw in a section where you get to walk around in giant robot armor for no reason. It’s completely gratuitous and feels a little out of place – who gets scared while they’re riding around in a five-ton killing machine? – but it’s still fun enough to get passing marks.

Improved are the environments, at least in the demo. The first F.E.A.R. had you running around an office building, then in the basement of an office building, then in an office building that appeared to be under construction, then in a laboratory that looked a lot like an office building. The F.E.A.R. 2 demo sees F.E.A.R. its basement of an office building, and raises it a creepy elementary school and some Half-Life 2-flavored ravaged city streets. It feels mostly the same, but at least there’s some nice stuff to look at. The school building in particular made me pause in a few places to read the posters on the walls, which is more than anyone ever did in the Mobius strip of hallway that was the first F.E.A.R.

Rob posted yesterday on the psychological terrors of System Shock 2. F.E.A.R. 2 is not like that. Like its predecessor, it subscribes to the Monster In The Closet school of horror, invoking The Ring and Doom 3 in equal measure – these cheap thrills will have you jumping on your first play, but the effect diminishes significantly the next time through. You might be startled occasionally but when all is said and done you won’t be anymore scared than you were when you were watching Ghost Ship. Did… did any of you guys watch Ghost Ship?

Like any good sequel, this one keeps what made the first game appealing and stacks new stuff on top of it, occasionally innovating but mostly sticking to the formula laid out by its predecessor. Add to that a graphical spit shine and viola! instant sequel! I may not purchase F.E.A.R. 2 myself before it hits the bargain bin, but I’ll certainly understand if you do.

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This Week in Audiosurf Radio 1/26 – Broadened Horizons Edition

Pretty. Fresh off the heels of last week’s interview with Dylan, “This Week…” dives into another bunch of techno tracks.

If I understand what the Internets seem to be telling me, three of the tracks are remixes by a Brazilian DJ named Speedsound. His Myspace wasn’t too helpful, so I can only assume the artists he remixed included Ecologic, MPA, Magical Killer and Spectral Hades. If you’re a techno fan and I’m getting this wrong, too bad. The fourth song comes from Screw-jay, a Hungarian electronica artist who specializes in downtempo stuff. Some of his stuff is atmospheric without severely lacking in the beat department – check it out on his Jamendo site (his Myspace is a freaking mess.)

I’ve been writing about techno for a while now, so hit the jump and find out just what broadened my horizons.



Recommended

As Lebeth said, this thing looks like butt cheeks.I played this butt-(or Snuffy- or elephant-)shaped song on Eraser Pro and I was quite unmoved. It’s pretty standard techno fare – it’s even got the stereotyped monotone voice over saying, “Welcome to the Next Generation of Science.” For a while there, it’s pretty damn bumpy, which is the best part of the ride.

On the Audiosurf Welcome screen, Lebeth suggested going after the Stealth bonus on Ninja Mono on Smile and Fun. I’ve never been a huge fan of Mono play, but I figured I had nothing to lose with this ride. Boy, did it make a difference. I didn’t dare start with Ninja, but Mono Pro turned the boring block arrangements into a much more satisfying experience. The steep hill at the end was plain frustrating on Eraser, but the unique stress of Mono play livened it up. I don’t know if this means Mono makes all meh songs better, but consider my horizons broadened.

Maybe Hannibal would ride the last track over these mountains? I’m not sure who wrote this track (given that there are four artist names associated with it), but it’s a great ride. There’s very little in the way of conventional “musical instruments” – it’s mostly beats, bass, and buzz – but it holds up. Just take a look at that track. It’s a freaking mountain range. The ebb and flow of difficulty keeps it interesting, and the music has a recurring quality of rising pitch and crescendo that lends itself to the steep downhill sections. It’s got these long trains of blues and purples – probably the result of rapid-fire pitch repetition. These trains tend to crowd the middle lane, making moving back and forth dicey – a literal jumping in and out of traffic. Give this one a few rides. It holds up, if not improves, over the course of several plays.

If only graphs about the economy were this much fun.I will tell you one thing right away about Anything to Say: play this song. It’s nine minutes long and worth every second. Unlike previous nine-minute ventures on Audiosurf Radio, this one is not a medley but a singular experience, though it is not without its movements. About a third of the way in (right after that first downhill section), there’s a brief vocal interlude. There’s a hint of Zeppelin to this moment, with the tenor vocalist wailing incoherently, his voice processed and distorted. As if the song were reading my mind, an electric guitar bursts onto the scene as the tempo picks back up. You can’t tell from the image but this track is nice and curvy, with a synth tone whose pitch-bending seems to cause the curve. It’s a great effect. Late in the track, while you struggle to survive the traffic onslaught, an alarm-like noise sounds rhythmically. During one playthrough, it felt like the alarm was creating white blocks. Magic.

Other selections
The fourth track, as I mentioned, comes from Screw-jay. Yawn. The traffic’s around the 130s, so it’s not a hopelessly boring track, but it lacks a bit compared with the others. Also, I’m beginning to notice a recurring device in these techno music: electronic crickets. Whatever the sound is, it makes me think of robotic crickets chirping. And in this track, the crickets attack as a swarm of red blocks. Use this ride as a way to relax after all the good stuff.

Author’s Note
Each song was played at least twice on the Eraser Pro difficulty. Smiles and Fun was also played on Mono Pro, and I had a much better time. Give it a shot. Continue...

Monday, January 26, 2009

they won’t stop coming

no funny alt text hereIndustry-wide sackings continue – Chris Early, general manager of Games for Windows Live, was reportedly let go today. This is the most recent information we have on a much wider rash of cuts made at Microsoft in the past week.

At a personal level, all of the news of game-related layoffs is awful to hear. We’re supposed to be a recession-proof industry, aren’t we? First and foremost, my thoughts go out to all of the very real people affected by the deepening global recession – they are not just names in blog posts. I’m thankful that my job seems secure, and I suggest that the employed among you follow suit.

At a more relevant-to-the-wider-gaming-community level, this news is a harbinger of change for the Games for Windows Live service, which I recently critiqued in a post about the state of PC gaming. Though Live is well-liked and accepted (and mandatory) on its platform of origin, it has never gained the same level of acceptance on the PC, especially in the face of the much more successful Steam platform. My bet is that this is the beginning of the end for the service, though it is also conceivable that Microsoft wants to bring in new management in an effort to breathe new life into it. If there’s one thing at which Microsoft excels, it’s persistence – they’ll just keep trying, damn it, until they get it right.

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Tag As: Games as Art

We Three Editors often joke about “Games as Art,” the breezy, pseudo-intellectual, quasi-pretentious tag that we slap on any post that attempts to discuss videogames in a postured, post-graduate way. Writing about Braid? Games as art. A left-of-center RTS? Games as art! We recognize the tag as potentially undermining the point – if games are art, why should they pose as art? – but for clerical purposes, it remains.

Gamasutra, a beacon of good, intelligent feature writing in a sea awash with tit jokes and reheated news, serves up an eggheaded consideration of videogames’ position in the continuum of Art History.

At Charge Shot!!!, every article begins with the basic assumption that games are art, and deserve to be treated as such. It’s our founding faith. But Gamasutra’s Ian Bogost gives it a good thinking-through. He proposes a lot, and at first glance, manages to back it up pretty well. Check it out, and expect a reaction piece in due time. Continue...

Relearning Fear



It’s become fashionable recently to proclaim the death of survival horror. Jim Sterling at Destructoid wrote a lengthy piece titled “How Survival Horror Evolved Itself Into Extinction,” in which he argues that a forced “evolution” of gameplay spurred on by Resident Evil 4 has wiped out the older conventions of the genre – ammo scarcity, claustrophobic environments, clunky controls – and siphoned out the fear. One of the smarter rats in the race, Sterling points out that this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Evolutions happen out of necessity, and looking at shots from Resident Evil 5, it’s hard to miss the static, pre-rendered backgrounds of yesterday. The king is dead. Long live the king.

I resist the idea that smooth controls, swift action and an over-the-shoulder camera rule out psychological horror. A third-, or even a first-person game can immerse the player in a hope-leeching stew of isolation and despair without handling like, as Sterling says, a forklift – really, shouldn’t fear come from the game and not the analog pad? Saying Resident Evil 4 killed survival horror is like saying the detective story died with Poe. It denies the possibility of future innovation.

What about past innovation? Sterling attributes “evolution” to commercial viability – i.e., Resident Evil 4 sold well, and rendered ye olde survival horror unprofitable. If a game released in – say, 1999 – sold poorly, its potential to innovate would be stunted because it was a commercial failure. Any propositions it made, any revolutions it contained would be left to gather dust. Who cares about critics? The wallets have spoken.

It’s time to dust off System Shock 2.


As we may have mentioned, System Shock was a thinking man’s FPS in an age of knuckle-dragging corridor crawlers. Ken Levine, designer, would go on to found Irrational Games, which would produce System Shock 2 in 1999. Shock 2 put you in the boots of a soldier stationed on the Von Braun, a faster-than-light vessel poised to make mankind’s first stab into the cosmos. You tumble out of your cryotube a few months premature. Surprise! The ship is overrun with hive-minded, pipe-wielding zombies called The Many. And the room is about to depressurize.

From there on, System Shock 2 is a desperate fight against depressing odds. No shit – this game is hard. At no point during one of my several trips through did I ever feel that I had the upper hand. Every moment was lived at quarter-health, hiding with a broken pistol, listening to one of The Many try to coax me out of the shadows. “Join us,” he says. He tells me to put down my gun, to give up, end my dissonance, and get in harmony. Harmony – sounds nice. Out of sheer emotional exhaustion, I half consider his offer. If I fight, I might not win – my gun is rusty, and low on ammo. If it jams, I’ll have to use my wrench, and at close quarters, I won’t stand much of a chance. So I wait for him to pass, pipe raised, tumor-blistered head panning from side to side.

System Shock 2 is survival horror at its purest. It doesn’t rely on cheap thrills or “gotcha” moments. The game burns slowly, relying on an ambient horror to sink into your bones and hold you in fascinated dread for all of its 15 hours. It’s the total sense of despair that keeps System Shock 2 from being just a spaceship shooter. And the despair is in the details.

You’re completely alone – at no point do you meet another living human being. The stories of corpses are told through the PDAs you pick up along with syringes and ammunition, and the hopes, fears and anxieties told therein are all over, ended unceremoniously on the metal floor of the Von Braun. Your isolation is compounded by the fact that you lack free will – you are SHODAN’s errand-boy, surviving only by her fancy. This cleverly masks the core conceit of any game – you never really have a choice, not if you want to play the game – but it also reduces you to subhumanity. Even SHODAN calls you “insect.” At least the corpses died free. Will you?

One of the game’s most immaculately constructed moments came underneath a conventionally demonic image, appropriated and twisted to horrific effect. In the game’s final acts, the player ends up tracing the path of another SHODAN-puppet, another insect who failed to fulfill the AI’s expectations. At one point, you realize that you’re not that far behind her – she addresses you directly in her PDA-messages, left like breadcrumbs behind her. You find her in the chapel of the Rickenbacker, a navy frigate piggybacking on the Von Braun for protection. Because you reversed the gravity earlier, you walk under a row of pews, and find her corpse under a giant inverted cross. This is someone who, over the course of more than a half-dozen monologues, you got to know. She is a future version of you, used for a purpose and tossed aside.

The horror of System Shock 2 comes from the careful management of hope, fear, exhilaration and despair. These are all basic ingredients – much simpler than dynamic lighting, monsters with blades for arms, or charnel-house levels of gore. It’s as easy as good storytelling, something you can’t conjure with a warehouse of programmers.

A good ghost story makes grown men and women hesitate before entering a dark room. Survival horror isn’t dead. It just needs to find fear again.


About the image: Gareth Hinds produced a great series of concept sketches for System Shock 2. Check them out here.


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Sunday, January 25, 2009

AIAS to Hold Awards Ceremony, Sackboy Super Excited

Sackman-large On February 19th at the DICE Summit, the Academy of Interactive Arts and Sciences will hold their 12th Annual Interactive Achievement Awards ceremony. Think of this show as the bespectacled, conservatively-dressed older sister to Spike’s nympho-tween VGAs. The potential downfall with that analogy is that the host for the IAAs is B- C- D- F-list “funny”man Jay Mohr, who is apparently returning for his fourth year.

Nominations were recently announced and the big news is that LittleBigPlanet garnered 10 – in categories ranging from “Outstanding Achievement in Soundtrack” (props to Daniel Pemberton, whom we interviewed not long ago) to “Console Game of The Year.” Other games with multiple nominations include Spike’s favorite kick-me-even-when-I’m-on-top mangame Gears of War 2 and floating dog apocalyptic RPG Fallout 3, and Valve’s newest entry into canon Left 4 Dead.

There are two things about this awards show I immediately like and two things I immediately dislike.

I like its attempt to recreate the clout of the Oscars: there’s an Academy, and according to their website “no person may become a voting member of the Academy unless he or she can demonstrate a threshold level of experience and professional credits in the industry.” I also like that they annually revise their list of categories. This is a wise move in an industry where an exec might be deemed insane for claiming his company’s hardware will be relevant, dare he suggest dominant, in eight or nine years.

Two things do make me wrinkle my nose a bit. I’m not a fan of this “Outstanding Character Performance” category. Sackboy is up against Lara, Snake, and the two guys from GoW2. This makes no sense. This category would make more sense if it were about voice-acting. But the phrase “Character Performance” doesn’t hold weight in an interactive medium when you’re controlling the character. The player performs, not the .wav files and the collision detection. Last year, they give the award to Portal, presumably for GLaDOS, which makes more sense since she was something you interacted with. A fully-realized, clever reimagining of the classic A.I.-gone-nuts. Toss this award, Academy.

Also, someone should have had the balls to keep Braid from languishing in the “Casual Game of the Year” category. Last year, the category was called “Downloadable Game of the Year.” It went to Puzzle Quest. It could have very well gone to The Orange Box; that was downloadable. Some people play GoW2 casually online. Does that mean it should’ve gotten a “Casual” nomination? Okay, so you gave Braid a nod for “Outstanding Innovation In Gaming.” But if it’s that good, I’m sure it deserves a genre category better than “Casual.” Nomination FAIL.

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Saturday, January 24, 2009

Play Katamari, Make Better Games

I want to wad you up into my life. Gregory Weir over at GameSetWatch spent a recent “The Interactive Palette” column discussing the use of scale in Katamari Damacy.

He opens by asserting that “the narrative of most video games is one of increasing power,” progressing from an unskilled neophyte (Mega Man with only his Mega Buster) to an omnipotent god (Mega Man with the ability to stop time, toss boulders, or other less useful things). His thesis: Katamari’s use of scale wonderfully, if indirectly, supplies this narrative. I happen to agree.

You should give this thing a full read, but I’ll quickly mention one of my favorite points. The first technique Weir discusses is Katamari’s use of “clear objects of reference:”

“The game is set in a stylized version of the modern world, populated with many objects, from dice to people to cars to houses. These simply-rendered objects immediately provide a cue as to the size of the player's ball. … If Katamari Damacy's portrayal of its setting was more realistic…there would be several subtly different sizes of car and more variation of houses, while the ground would no longer be littered with neat rows of tulips or clusters of teddy bears.”

It’s refreshing to hear an explanation for Katamari's quirky visual style that’s more than just “Goofy=cool.” I used to just accept it as a result of the game’s unabashed Japanese-ness, but I’m happy someone articulated its effect on gameplay. Kudos, Weir. Hopefully, a few developers will take heed and find other inventive methods of progression, instead of just giving my gun a bigger chainsaw.

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Braid Review: Getting to the Point

all this and brains Here’s a sweeping introduction for you: since the Beginning of Time, games have been getting longer. Okay, that’s not necessarily true, but the number of 80-hour games that Atlus alone releases every single day makes me wonder who their target audience is – even the people who play games full time can’t possibly have the drive needed to plow through so many lengthy quirky strategy RPGs. It’s not just Atlus, though – all developers are releasing longer games these days and often, in an effort to make their titles feel like they’re worth the $50 or $60 we have to drop on them, they add on side quests or introduce some sort of unnecessary level-up system to artificially extend their game’s length. Have you played a game that asks you to, say, find and destroy four of something, all in remote corners of the game’s map? The developer has taken one task, in this case finding and destroying a certain object, and made you do it four times, with a good deal of travel time in between. Congratulations, Whoeversoft, you have claimed another half hour of my time on this earth.

Not every game is like this, though. Especially in the indie scene, where there is little such pricing pressure, games are allowed to be of a more natural length. Take last year’s Portal, which didn’t have to be $60 by itself because it was part of a package including two and two-thirds other games – it was only four or so hours long, but it was endlessly inventive and darkly hilarious, and left people wanting more in part because it didn’t give them too much.

Braid is similar to Portal in this respect – as a fifteen-dollar downloadable title, it doesn’t have to stretch itself thin to meet expectations. The result is a compact and cerebral game, not excessively long but fresh from start to finish.

Let’s start superficially – Braid is pretty. The screenshot above doesn’t do it justice. Let me see if I can find a video. I guess this one is alright:

There’s nothing that compares to playing the game on a nice, high-definition set. Backgrounds like watercolor paintings swirl and glow, soothing music enhances the mood, and detailed sprites have smooth, beautiful animations. You don’t need to bumpmap the shit out of every surface to make a game visually impressive – the careful attention to detail exemplified here is just as (if not more) pleasing to the eye.

The game’s story also bears mentioning. Like most 2D platformers, Braid is not particularly story-driven – most of the context you get for the game’s events is provided via a series of verbose books at the beginning of each world, which tell a traditional save-the-princess tale with a twist at the very end. This is nothing earth-shattering, but afterward you'll be pretty satisfied with it. That’s more than some big box games can offer.

These snippets of text between levels also tie in with that particular level’s variation on Braid’s fascinating core gameplay mechanic – Tim, the protagonist, can turn back time. Anytime you fall on instant-death spikes, anytime you bump into one of the game’s adorable enemies, anytime you’re hit in the back of the head with a flaming rock, you can back time up as far as you need to and use what you just learned to avoid making the same mistake. Braid introduces you to this admittedly Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time-esque mechanic and proceeds to turn and twist it every which way. There are some objects which your time manipulation does not effect. In one world, a special ring slows down objects in its immediate vicinity, but nowhere else. In another, a shadowy doppelganger will repeat your previous actions while you go do something else. I could only wrap my mind around four or five of Braid’s puzzles in one sitting – playing much longer, I just couldn’t think the way the game wanted me to think. It’s a game that rewards patience and thoughtfulness in a way that Mario never has – rather than quick, precise button presses, Braid demands creative thinking and problem-solving skills.

Of all of its virtues, Braid’s greatest strength is its unwillingness to repeat itself. Each puzzle is unique – never will you be met with a challenge that makes you say “oh no, one of these again.” Had Jonathan Blow and company wanted to, the levels could be artificially stretched out by using more puzzles that were less inventive, but like Portal before it every challenge wrings your brain in a different way. The successes of these shorter but still satisfying games should make developers take a step back – before you add that fetch quest, think to yourself: does your game really need to be that much longer?

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Friday, January 23, 2009

the nerve

here is what is wrong with this picture: 1) the guy on the left has a gamecube controller, the guy on the right an n64 controller. what could they be playing? 2) the "tv screen" they're looking at appears to be an apple LCD monitor that they stopped manufacturing three or four years ago. good luck hooking your cube64 up to that. 3) those beers have blank labels. are we also to assume that they're making and bottling their own hooch? What the hell. What the hell.

Some stupid study says that since I partake in Computer Games, I’m more likely to be a surly antisocial alcoholic who ignores his family and friends. What. The. Hell.

I mean, who are these people anyway? My mom? If I wanted my mom to tell me to stop playing video games, I would start talking to her again. These people are obviously quacks, and no one should ever listen to them or any of their friends no matter what they say. Come on. Come on.

I need a belt of scotch after reading something like this, don’t you? Whiskey will do, in a pinch.

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Dyson, or When Less is Most Certainly More

That's a lot of seedlings. Do you like Real-Time Strategy games? Do you like theoretical physics? How about The Little Prince? If you’re like me and you’re thinking, “Well gee, I like all three,” then you should play Dyson.

According to the game’s site (where you can freely download the current build), “Dyson is an ambient real-time strategy game with abstract visuals” that allows you to “remotely command semi-autonomous self-replicating mining machines to take over an entire asteroid belt.” Sound confusing? In practice, it’s anything but.

Developers Rudolf Kremers and Alex May created the game for TIGSource’s Procedural Generation Competition in May 2008. They had one month to develop a game whose content was created “algorithmically ‘on the fly.’ ” They managed to place second out of sixty entries. Then they updated it, submitted it to the IGF, and were nominated for the Seumas McNally Grand Prize. Here’s how they got it so right.

First, they picked some fantastic material for inspiration. Dyson takes its name from the adorable theoretical physicist Freeman J. Dyson – whose name also inspired Half-Life protagonist Gordon Freeman (and his brother, I guess). Gameplay centers around a version of the Dyson Tree, which Dyson hypothesized as a genetically-engineered plant that could grow on a comet and create self-sustaining habitats for humanity. The trees in Dyson have nothing to do humanity. Instead, they spawn little seedlings, which function similarly to another Dyson thought experiment built on the work of John Von Neumann: the Astrochicken, a self-replicating automaton designed for space-exploration. I can’t believe I willingly (and somewhat accidentally) learned this much about theoretical astrophysics. Kudos, Dyson.

Maybe if I explore every asteroid, I'll find B612.  I'll give the Little Prince a sheep. Second, they nailed the design. It’s so simple. Each of the five levels is an asteroid belt displayed on an austere white-ish background that beautifully highlights how long it’s been since I cleaned my monitor. The asteroids are abstract; they’re all perfectly circular, varying only in size. You can zoom all the way in to a single fuzzy-edged leaf or zoom out and view the whole belt. As sessions roll on, saplings blossom and sprout countless branches, emulating the mammoth baobabs of The Little Prince. And the ambient music by Brian Grainger is sublime. It shifts slowly under your feet, calling attention to itself only in the most appropriate moments.

Third, they did right by the genre. Most RTS games are a blend of micro- and macromanagement, often divided between base management (construction, recruiting troops, gathering resources) and troop management (waging war, crushing enemies, securing expansion bases). Dyson eschews a large chunk of the former. Each asteroid holds a certain number of trees (usually four or five), which continue to grow and generate seedlings on their own. You don’t have to tell the game you want more troops; your trees never stop growing them. Those trees just won't stop growing.You can grow defense trees, whose limbs brandish spores perfect for fending off invading seedlings (of which there will be many). Again Dyson’s simplicity works in its favor, limiting your choices and distilling the RTS to its most satisfying elements.

Fourth, Procedural Generation. The game is different every time you play it. Yes, there are five levels, each presenting a specific scenario (tree number limitations, find an enormous enemy base, conquer a certain number of asteroids, etc.). But no session, regardless of the scenario, will ever be the same. In Dyson, asteroids and the seedlings they spawn have varying levels of energy (hit points), strength, and speed. Each time you play there will be a different assortment of asteroids with different sets of attributes. I’m convinced I only beat one of the levels because I lucked out.

Don’t let me kid you, this game can be brutal. The AI enemies are relentless, often attacking multiple asteroids at once, aiming for your expansions to trick you into leaving your core asteroids open. I can understand if you feel a little turned off by the difficulty, but the game’s not broken. It’s just challenging.

Go after the enemy before he finds you. In fact, I can only really think of two actual flaws I came across while playing. For one, I have no idea how to move seedlings that are on an enemy asteroid. Thus, I can’t recall troops or asteroid hop past the front lines like my AI opponents. I can issue the order, but they just won’t move. Weird. This resulted in the second glitch I hit. At one point I swarmed an enemy stronghold with upwards of 400 seedlings. After I’d destroyed the enemy trees, my cloud of troops was so thick, no one could penetrate the surface to plant a new tree. I couldn’t beat the level because my idiot seedlings were bouncing into one another. And I couldn’t break up the traffic jam because I couldn’t figure out how to withdraw them. A vicious cycle.

But really, that’s all I can find to complain about. One minor glitch that prevented me from winning once. Having watched these videos, I know this stuff is small potatoes.

In an interview with TunaSnax, Kremers said he “wanted to get as much interesting gameplay from as few as possible factors.” They did just that. The singular principle of procedural generation can be felt at every level of the game, from the self-replicating trees to the spare, “random” asteroid belts. It’s an enormous achievement that such a polished game came out of such a short, focused design process. It’s also a great achievement that the game’s actually fun.

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Thursday, January 22, 2009

Giant Robots.



The demise of the flight simulator makes sense – gamers with increasingly short attention spans wanted more flash, more boom, and dealing death from the stratosphere was too remote to quench their bloodlust. They needed something at a lower altitude, something that would kick up the dust and send the shockwaves straight at their face.

Nothing fulfills this better than the ’mech simulator. The Mechwarrior franchise put gamers behind the stick of a 10-meter tall walking tank saddled down with lasers, guided missiles and automatic artillery. Far from a brainless boom-fest, the Mechwarrior games made the player constantly aware of their mobility, vulnerability and the massive amounts of heat their weapons generated. The successful mechwarrior played to his or her strengths, striking an ideal balance between speed, maneuverability and brute firepower. It was a cerebral and gratifying experience, and it only got better as the franchise matured.

And like the flight sim, you’d be hard pressed to find anything similar on shelves today.


Steeped in the byzantine, sci-fi lore of FASA’s Battletech universe, the Mechwarrior series enlisted the player in one of two armies: the Inner Sphere, a factitious, moody, constantly squabbling bunch, or the Clans, a warrior-race purified by generations of selective breeding that refuses to speak with contractions. Of course, I’m glossing the royal intrigue, forbidden love and sibling rivalry that lace the universe like cheap lingerie. Ever see All My Children? Yeah. That.

The Mechwarrior 2 family debuted in 1995. Produced by Activision, Mechwarrior 2: 31st Century Combat, according the Gamespot review, looked “stunning” in 640x480, even better in 1074x768 SVGA, and played more like a flight sim than a shooter. On level terrain, the opening salvos of a firefight typically took place one kilometer out, the enemy visible only on radar. Once the close-quarters slugfest began, survival depended on the mechwarrior’s ability to finesse a 100-ton assault ’mech into flanking and strafing maneuvers – and believe me, you felt each of those 100 tons. Battles hinged on strategy, not reflex, and half of the strategy took place in the ’Mech Bay. Almost every ton of your ’mech was customizable. Engine power, armor type and thickness, weapons and ammo allocation – all were your responsibility. Limbs could be blown off, weapons lost, and ammunition detonated. The loss of a main gun could change the course of a battle. With its slower, intelligent gameplay, Mechwarrior 2 was definitely not a shooter, and it set the standard for the duration of the franchise.

To varying degrees, the subsequent expansion packs and sequels maintained Mechwarrior 2’s fidelity to simulation. Mechwarrior 4: Mercenaries (2002) was the end of the line for the series, and it embodies seven years of progress. The progenitor’s most inaccessible edges were sanded out, the gameplay enlivened but not dumbed-down, and the strategy retained. It was still edifying to pilot a hugeass robot, and still exhilarating.

While fans looked forward to Mechwarrior 5, which seemed an inevitable encore for a successful franchise, the death of the giant robot sim was already in progress. MechAssault was released for the Xbox in November 2002. If Mechwarrior was the intelligent, aloof A-student, MechAssault was Mr. Congeniality. It was fast, flashy and fun, but it didn’t even begin to consider the complexity and depth of its more distinguished forefathers. It was one of the Xbox’s first Live games, and its online success paved the way for a sequel. By the time MechAssault 2: Lone Wolf was released in 2004, Mechwarrior 5 was already canceled, and the franchise all but dead.

It’s not that the MechAssualt games were bad – they fared well, critically, and the first sold well – it’s that they converted the IP into a third-person shooter. I mean, there were powerups. Nothing could be further from the spirit of the original. The glitz and thrill of MechAssault was cheap, and it flaked easily. The challenging, enduring qualities of Mechwarrior 2 were pawned off in favor of commercial viability.

As of writing, FASA has recovered the rights to the Mechwarrior franchise from Microsoft. What the druids at FASA plan on doing with the IP is anyone’s guess. While I would hate to see such a venerable franchise die, I would rather remember it fondly than see it diluted further.

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Wednesday, January 21, 2009

at least someone is optimistic

i'll never get tired of this picture - maybe i'll start putting it up even on articles that have nothing to do with the ps3 People are starting to call the Playstation 3 the Gamecube of this generation – you know, in an insulting way, referring the the Gamecube’s lackluster sales and relative irrelevance. Ouch!

Not one to take things lying down, Sony Computer Entertainment CEO Kaz Hirai defended his company’s console tooth and nail in a recent interview, giving us some of the best befuddling corporate dick waving we’ve had the pleasure of reading since they made Krazy Ken Kutaragi step down.

His most outrageous assertion: "We don't provide the 'easy to program for' console that [developers] want, because 'easy to program for' means that anybody will be able to take advantage of pretty much what the hardware can do, so then the question is what do you do for the rest of the nine-and-a-half years?"

Hirai makes it sound like developers should be having fun forcing the PS3 to do the same things the 360 (apparently) does much more easily – I, for one, would rather enable my developers to get down to the business of creating compelling software, but I’m not the head of a major corporation I guess.

Hirai justifies his opinion by comparing the PS3 to the PS2, which saw some great and beautiful games despite being harder to develop for than its competition – this is not the most accurate comparison to draw. Developers flocked to the difficult PS2 because it sold very well and they wanted in on its success, and they pushed (and continue to push) it so hard graphically because they have had seven or eight years to become comfortable with it. Neither of these things are yet true for the PS3, and again Sony’s overconfidence in the Playstation brand during the development of the console is weighing them down in the present day.

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