Vocabulary Yoga

Haven’t done this in a while, but this word intrigued me.

Nebbish

–noun Slang. a pitifully ineffectual, luckless, and timid person.

OnLive: paradigm shift or interesting but useless?

If there’s one event in the gaming convention circuit that always gets me thinking, it’s GDC. Last year, I spent a lot of time thinking about the ideas presented in the Game Designer’s Rant, specifically Ubisoft designer Clint Hocking’s speech, the video of which I’m determined to find and post later. This year, it seems the hot topic is the idea of utilizing “cloud computing” in the gaming industry, specifically as it pertains to game distribution.

Preamble: A Quick Explanation

To put it simply, cloud computing allows a user (that’s you, by the way) to access data, software applications, or computer hardware through a number of online resources. This allows regular joes to access all of their data from basically any computer, and it allows certain businesses the ability to limit how much money they spend on hardware but treating computer processing like a utility service they pay for based on usage.

To bring it back to games, Valve’s Steam service is a prime example of this. You can buy a number of games through Steam, and that purchase is then stored on the Steam servers. Then, you can go onto any other PC, download the Steam application, and from it, download your game, as well as your saved game data for that game, onto that PC through the Steam application. You have instant access to all of your Steam-bought games no matter what PC you’re on.

Ok, so this isn’t a new concept to most of us affluent on the subject, but now one company has taken it a step further with OnLive, an interesting idea that looks to use cloud computing to change game distribution. How this works is kind of weird, honestly. You can use the service on your PC through a plug-in for your browser, or a small, PSP-sized device that plugs into the HDMI port of your TV. You pick your game through the service, start to play, and the game is then streamed to you over the OnLive service. Mechanically, it works like this: you press a button on the controller. That signal is then sent to one of OnLive’s servers, on which the game itself is housed. The server takes that button input, plays the game for you, and then streams that interaction back to you through the internet.

Apparently this has taken them 7 years to perfect, and all reports of the early beta sound promising. So far 9 major developers are signed onto the service, including Atari, Electronic Arts, and Ubisoft. The service includes PC, Xbox 360, and PS3 games.

The Big Picture

The benefits of OnLive for PC/Mac gamers should be immediately obvious; instead of having to spend a wad of cash on a top-of-the-line PC to play, oh lets say Crysis, now all you need is relatively fast Internet connection–which, last time I checked, is already owned by a large portion of North Americans. The hardware requirements to run the game are already met by the OnLive server they’re housed on, and all you need to do is order the game through the service.

I will say, this has serious potential to expand the PC gaming market. One of the biggest road blocks for PC gaming is that some people feel prohibited by the amount of money you need to spend on a gaming PC–though, that depends on opinion, since a decent gaming PC doesn’t actually cost much more than a PS3. By simply asking users to pay their Internet bill every month, this makes PC gaming far more accessible, since it essentially turns any modern computer–including Macs–into a gaming-ready device.

But what is the plausible scope of this service? Unfortunately, the whole thing seems kind of limited. I really only see two groups of people who will really benefit from this service. The first group includes people who own videogame consoles, but don’t game on PC’s because they either find the cost of PC gaming to exorbitant or their current PC is out of date or wasn’t purchased for gaming purposes. Students are a prime example of this, since they buy laptops–often Mac laptops–to take notes and do homework. The second group includes people who don’t game at all, but may be interested in getting involved with it. Now, this could include younger kids who rely on their parents to buy games/consoles for them. Not only do the parents not have to buy expensive PC’s or consoles, paying a subscription fee–which is how OnLive is going to be monetized–is probably going to be an easier sell than paying a large lump sum for a console or games. Just look at World of Warcraft.

Drawbacks

Now that I’ve given the service its due, it’s time to get skeptical. There are a number of reasons this service could flop, not the least of which being pricing. The idea here is that this is going to be a subscription based service, but what will the payment models be? They’ve stated that the resolution at which the game will play on your monitor or TV will depend on the speed of your Internet connection. Does that mean they’ll charge different prices for people in different Internet speed brackets? Will someone with DSL pay less than someone with high-end Cable or T1 lines? This seems a little complicated, and perhaps they won’t nickel-and-dime you that hard. However, in one of those interviews, they did discuss charging different rates depending on whether you’re purchasing, or simply renting a game, and it sounded like the rental method would have different pricing depending on how long you wanted to “rent” the game for through the service.

The bigger issue here is support. Now, let’s keep in mind that 9 major publishers have professed support for this. That’s fine and dandy for PC-exclusive games, like Dawn of War II, but what about console games? There are plenty of highly-popular titles that are either console exclusive (like Gears of War or Metal Gear Solid 4) or first-party titles published by Microsoft, Sony, or Nintendo themselves. If those companies are using those exclusive games in order to sell their consoles, then why in the hell would they ever want them to end up on OnLive, a service that would essentially kill any claim to exclusivity those games would allow the Big 3?

There’s another issue here, one that may make OnLive seem like a good idea that’s coming a bit too late. With all of these high-profile third-party games showing up on OnLive, the service is (for now) ignoring a burgeoning new part of the videogame industry: small, affordable, downloadable games, like those found on Xbox Live Arcade or the Playstation Network. Two of the best games of 2008 were arguably Castle Crashers and Braid, both games that were developed and sold over Xbox Live. Now, I’m not saying small games won’t be developed for OnLive in the future (in one interview, the guy does say that there’s a software development kit for the service), but it’s something they’re going to want to jump on very quickly. These small games, as well as downloadable content packs–like the The Pitt addition just released for Fallout 3 a few days ago–are a big part of the industries future, and if they don’t become a part of OnLive, the service may end up looking like nothing but a dumping ground for third-parties who want to make more money off their expensive games.

Anyways, those are just some thoughts. We’ll be discussing OnLive in further depth in the second segment of this week’s User Created Content.

–Ram

Review: Resident Evil 5

Published on Exclaim.ca

Resident Evil 5 is definitely an interesting evolution of the franchise. While not making as big a leap as RE4, the latest game in the series does make some interesting changes to the formula. For one thing, it takes place in Africa, somewhere the series has never been. You play as series vet Chris Redfield, who has come to the town of Kijuji to investigate a case of bio-terrorism. And, as per usual in a Resident Evil game, you drop into the situation woefully unprepared for what awaits.

We won’t go too deep into the story because, although it does provide a satisfying wrap-up to many of the franchise’ loose ends, it’s not the most memorable part of the game. It’s also not the visuals, although they are definitely stunning. No, the best feature of Resident Evil 5 is the new ability to play the game with a partner. That’s right, now you can have a friend play as Chris’s partner Sheva, either locally or over Xbox Live. While you can play the game alone, with an A.I.-controlled Sheva, playing RE5 cooperatively gives the game a whole different feel.

That’s because co-op isn’t just a feature of the game but the cornerstone of it. Nearly every aspect of RE5 is more fun with a friend, and often even the levels feel more comfortable and manoeuvrable when you have someone else to play with. Like RE4, you’ll still spend much of the game running away, turning around to take a few shots with your weapon and then repeating this process until all the Las Plagas-infected enemies are out of the way. But there are moments when splitting up and strategizing can save your ass, and you just can’t accomplish this with an A.I.-controlled Sheva.

There are other minor touches, like being able to access your inventory with the press of a button, that make the game more convenient. At its core, though, this is still Resident Evil: you can’t move while shooting, you’re going have a constant want for ammunition, and there are moments when the stubborn controls will get you killed. If these things have kept from enjoying Resident Evil before, this game won’t change your opinion.

In fact, the biggest flaw of RE5 is that it isn’t as drastic a shift as its predecessor. But the co-op is a fantastic addition the franchise, and if you’re a fan of the series, this is definitely one to pick up.

Review: MadWorld

Published on Exclaim.ca

MadWorld is definitely not the kind of game you’d expect to see on the Wii. In fact, it’s hard not to be sceptical of a bloody, brutally violent and highly stylized beat-’em-up developed for a console that’s considered by most as “family friendly.” It was definitely a gamble for developer Platinum Games, but it’s one that pays off.

You could easily compare MadWorld to Sin City. For one thing, there are definite aesthetic similarities. The environments are all monochromatic, which actually works quite well with the hardware limitations of Nintendo’s flagship. The game manages to create unique and memorable environments without being able to pull off the same kind of shiny visuals as a game on the Xbox 360 or PS3. The only colour in the game that isn’t black or white is the red from the blood that spews from your enemies. And, man, there is a lot of blood. That’s because the premise of MadWorld is essentially Running Man on acid.

You play as a character named Jack, who is taking part in a horrifying game show. In order to win, you have to score points by eliminating your opponents in increasingly gratuitous and violent ways. This sounds pretty simple but the sheer number of ways to kill your enemies is what makes the game addictive. It’s hard to forget the first time you dump a guy headfirst into a burning garbage can, and then impale him ass-first onto a very long, very sharp spike. It sounds brutal, and it is, but also fun and engaging thanks to the Wii’s motion controls. Your moves are followed closely by the hilariously vulgar play-by-play announcers, voiced by Greg Proops, from Whose Line Is It Anyways, and John DiMaggio, the voice of Bender from Futurama.

MadWorld’s greatest strength is that it’s as old school as a beat-’em-up can be. However, that mentality is also where the game’s flaws come from. The camera isn’t manoeuvrable, except for centring it directly behind you, which becomes a real problem when you’re backed into a corner. The game also gives you a limited number of lives, so if you die at a boss fight have fun going through the entire level again to get to him. Luckily, the difficulty stays pretty low all the way through, but you can unlock a harder one after you complete it.

But those are minor gripes about a game that anyone with a sense of humour should play. It’s bloody, visceral and has an extremely unique and enjoyable visual style. If you like to beat things up, MadWorld is the game for you.

Review: F.E.A.R 2

Published on Exclaim.ca

Part prequel, part sequel, F.E.A.R. 2: Project Origin is the first official continuation of Monolith’s F.E.A.R., a horror FPS that combined fantastic and frantic action sequences with some genuine scares. Monolith has finally taken back the reins of the franchise and developed a shooter that’s well worth the asking price.

Story was by far the biggest problem with F.E.A.R., mostly because the mysteries presented were never clearly answered. Project Origin definitely succeeds in this area, but if it has any weakness it’s that the story isn’t paced evenly, with the first half of the game being far less interesting than the latter. Project Origin starts a bit before the end of the first game, but from a brand new perspective. You play the part of a Special Forces soldier tasked with what seems like a routine job: take a corporate executive into custody. Of course, things are never simple in these situations and you’re quickly thrown into the middle of corporate conspiracies and paranormal activity.

While the pacing of the story is uneven, the game mixes action, intensity and scares at a constant and exhilarating pace. F.E.A.R. was praised for having smart, devious enemies, and that still applies here. The opposing forces aren’t satisfied by just finding cover and popping up for a shot every few seconds; they’ll flank you, grenade you and communicate your position with each other constantly. No encounter is ever identical and even with the game’s “bullet time” mechanic, which allows you to slow down the environment to give you an advantage, you’ll constantly be forced to think on your feet. Project Origin also throws in some vehicle sections to break up the action, allowing you to control large mechs. These sections are few and far between, but whether or not they’re necessary is debatable.

Project Origin also labels itself a horror game, and while I wouldn’t exactly call it horrifying, it’ll definitely give you a couple good scares. Some of these come from creatures popping out to startle you, but the game also employs some nice visual paranormal effects to set a constant state of apprehension.

Project Origin’s strength comes from the pace and intensity of its action and you’ll fire thousands of rounds in dozens of white-knuckle shootouts before the climactic final fight. The story is intriguing and the paranormal effects will leave you scared, startled and grossed out. Put that all together and F.E.A.R. 2: Project Origin is the total package. (Monolith/Warner)

Review: Street Fighter IV

Published on Exclaim.ca
It’s been exactly ten years since the last incarnation of Street Fighter came out and after a long decade, Capcom hits us with a re-up in Street Fighter IV, a game that returns the series to what made it so popular in the first place: accessible controls with lots of depth for those willing to tough it out. Most everyone who’s touched a controller knows how to throw a fireball or a dragon punch but Capcom’s also taught the old dog a couple new tricks that will separate the men from the boys.

Street Fighter IV does away with a number of the more technical mechanics from previous games and modifies others for simplicity. Some of these moves, such as “focus attacks,” mimic certain moves without requiring any sort of fancy timing. Mastering the game still requires skill but the game also includes a mode called “Challenges” that teaches you how to use these moves with each character. The game is so accessible that anyone could master it with enough practice, but not so simple that it doesn’t require a lot of said practice.

Most of the original cast is back too, like Ken, Ryu and Chun-Li, as well as some characters from the Street Fighter Alpha series. Four new challengers appear this time: Abel, Crimson Viper, Rufus and El Fuerte. For the most part, these new guys are fun, though not as polished as the older guard. The only one I would say is actually terrible is Seth, the game’s final boss, who’s basically an amalgam character who uses every cheap move in the game against you.

The game does take one giant step forward with the visuals. While the fighting is entirely on a 2D plain, the graphics and art aesthetic of Street Fighter have finally made the jump to 3D. The character models are colourful and vibrant, even a little cartoon-like. The same can’t always be said about some of the environments. Part of Street Fighter’s charm was having iconic, character-specific backgrounds, something definitely lacking in SF IV. While some classics received a makeover, most of them are sort of bland and forgettable. The game definitely has a distinct and enjoyable style but Capcom missed an opportunity to make the environments truly memorable, which is a shame.

SF IV is a game for anyone who even remotely likes fighting games. Purists and newbies alike will appreciate SF IV’s simplicity and depth, while pros that spent years mastering the series’ technicality and level of difficulty won’t have their skills go to waste. The art style is unique and perfectly fits the series, even if they didn’t go far enough. Street Fighter is definitely back in top form, and this newest incarnation is an instant classic. (Capcom)

“I’m a broken down piece of meat…”

I’d be very interested to know how Pro Wrestling detractors feel about The Wrestler. The movie demands an almost complete lack of cynicism from its audience. Anyone who would scoff at the idea of taking a fake sport seriously may have a hard time committing an open mind to Darren Aronofsky’s gritty, documentary-style slice of Randy “The Ram” Robinson’s life.

Randy (Mickey Rourke) is an 80’s wrasslin’ super star who’s now relegated to performing in high school gymnasiums on the weekends, and working at a supermarket on weekdays. He’s aging, beaten, heavily battle-scarred, and living in a trailer he often can barely afford, with an estranged daughter who hates him, and no one else that loves him when he’s not in the squared circle.  After a pretty brutal match–involving glass windows, staple guns, and crutches wrapped in barbwire–Randy suffers a heart attack, and is told he can no longer wrestle, and so the film asks the question: what’s to become of a man who only has skill and worth when he steps in the ring?

As I said, The Wrestler takes wrestling seriously. As a fan, it was great to see Aranofsky give such vivid, simple and down-to-earth portrayal of what I think of as ballet for gladiators. It’s accurate and respectful to a profession that so many scoff and brush aside as “fake”, showing that while the outcomes are rigged, the effect it has on the wrestlers is very real.

Talking with a friend, I compared The Wrestler to David Mamet’s Redbelt, which was about mixed martial arts. Where Redbelt took many liberties with the history and hierarchy of mixed martial arts in order to lionize the “honour” of it, The Wrestler accurately shows the ins and outs of how wrestlers work their matches, and the brutality they often inflict on themselves in order to win the crowd. The film never tried to glorify the subject; that doing it put’s the Ram’s life at risk throughout the film makes it a sort of antagonist entity, while the camaraderie in the locker room gives him a sense of family that he cannot get in the real world.

Rourke’s casting and performance is pitch perfect; the actor’s scars from cosmetic surgery give him a really lived in look, somehow, and from beginning to end, Rourke feels sympathetic, like a whipped dog limping along. I guess it’s not all that huge of a stretch for Rourke to play a burnt out 80’s start trying to make a comeback, but he’s definitely not playing himself here. There’s a physicality to his performance, both inside and out of the ring. At no point did I think that Rourke was using a double to pull off the in-ring movies; he makes Randy look quick, agile, and strong. In the real world, though, Rourke looks old and frail, a broken down piece of meat who works at a grocery store, clutching onto his other life as tight as he can, like going to hair salons to get his hair dyed bleach blond.

The film employs plenty of cinematography techniques to provide some subtlety to the subject matter; the camera often follows Randy’s hulking mass from behind, giving us a sense of his world through his perspective. However, The Wrestler is at its best when it’s being entirely direct. As Randy tries to hang up his boots and live in the real world, he attempts to reconnect with his estranged daughter Stephanie, who wants nothing to do with him because he abandoned her at a young age. It may be an overused “strained relationship” archetype, but the film doesn’t really cover the history of their relationship. Instead, it’s used only to show how vulnerable Randy really is; he tears as he admits to her that his life is exactly what he deserves. His budding relationship with a stripper named Cassidy (Marissa Tomei) exists only as a parallel to his connection with his wrestling audience; she is a performer, and there is always a chasm between pros and their audiences. But again, the film truly shines when he tries to commit himself to her, admitting his age and low worth.

The Wrestler makes you care deeply for Randy “The Ram” Robinson. It’s not a story of hope or triumph; Randy can’t defy odds like age, or the wear-and-tear that’s hit his body and the relationships of his past. Instead, it’s a glimpse at a man at his very worst, and while he may be an utter failure as a regular person, his heart is true.

User Created Content

After a bit of a hiatus–we’re going through some production changes–episode 22 of User Created Content is Up.

First we got the news, followed by me bitching about Microsoft’s rediculous hard drive situation. And finally, we take a few minues to look at the highs, lows, and future of DLC.

Enjoy.

Not-A-Review #1: Skate 2 – frustratingly realistic

Welcome to the first Not-A-Review. As the title implies, this is not exactly a review of the game in question, but rather an analysis of the experience I have with the particular game. There will be no number scores or letter grades (though I am partial to the latter), and length usually varies, though I’ll try to keep it short and concise.

I’ve always seen Black Box’s unconventional and mostly-intuitive control scheme for the original Skate as a way of making a controller the tactile equivalent to fingerboards. I was a big fan of it even if was never as precise as they tried to make it sound. It was definitely better than Tony Hawk’s controls, which gave the tactile equivalent to this. Unortunately the biggest problem with Skatewas the game that existed around the controls; annoying NPCs who constantly got in your way–be they pedestrians or other skaters–and missions that forced you to use the controls with a precision I doubt the developers could fucking pull off. It was still an awesome game, but it got mired by some amateurish stuff that needed to be polished off

Which brings us to Skate 2. Before I talk about anything else, I have to say the intro to this game is pretty damn funny. It amuses me that Black Box once again takes something Tony Hawk tried to do–inserting real-life pro-skaters in live-action skits–and succeeds at doing it a million times better.

So then we get into the game. There’s a very short tutorial section you have to run through, but even then, the game gives the almost immediate impression that it was designed with Skate fans in mind. I’m not sure if it’s anything specific the game does, but it does sort of gloss over the flick-it controls, which are pretty jarring if you’ve never used them before.

Of the two glaring issues I mentioned in the first paragraph, Skate 2 fixes one of them, and makes the other even more frustrating.

First of all, the mission structure is a little more Burnout Paradisethis time around. After the first few career challenges, you basically have free roam to move about the city and complete several different types of challenges in any order you want to do them in. There’s even a fast-travel option, which is nifty, because while San Vanaloa is delightfully large, it’s also a bitch to traverse on board, since there’s no easily accessible or discernible map. The trade-off, here, is that I never go a sense that I was really accomplishing anything important; you’re really just going around town and impressing everyone with your “skillz”.

The game gives you more moves to do, but  thankfully rarely forces you to actually pull off any specific one. Part of me feels like Black Box had two choices with this issue: either try to diddle with the controls to make them more precise, or leave them be and ask less of the player. I’m not sure which is lazier, but they went with the latter. Unlike its predecessor, most challenges ask you to pull off a certain amount of moves from a specific category–grind, flip, or grab tricks–rather than the individual moves. It definitely helps accentuate the positives.

The negative, however, is that people still get in your fucking way. Oh, you know how some of them used to be holding water bottles or basketballs? Well, now they drop them, and the litter also has it’s own physics so better remember to ollie over every god damn coffee cup.

Now, they try to compensate for this by inserting a Pain-like minigame-but-not-really mechaninc called “Hall of Meat”, which gives you points whenever you bail, and even lets you bail on purpose if you want to have some fun kicking your avatar’s ass.

But it doesn’t change the fact that, when I’m in the middle of a challenge, I shouldn’t have to redo it just ’cause some guy a mile away can’t see me coming when he’s looking right at me. I understand the desire for realism–if you’re going to skate in the middle of the city, there’s bound to be cars and people to get in your way.

It’s like if you compared what crashing is like between Burnout Paradise to Midnight Club: Los Angelas. Both games punish you for hitting civilian cars in the middle of a race, but Midnight Clubactually makes you feel like those cars get in the way, making them an unfair hindrance, whereas Burnoutmakes them feel like an unfortunate but acceptable occurrence.

In Skate 2, it’s definitely not acceptable.

There are also two totally new features. There’s an online Free Skate mode, which works almost exactly like Burnout Paradise’s multiplayer, and so I’ve got no complaints. It works great.

You can also get off your board and walk around, as well as move objects around and create your own challenges. Both are nice additions, though there’s little explanation as to why your avatar needs to be moved like a tank, or why a large wooden ramp can be pushed like it’s made out of feathers. Then again, maybe I’m nit-picking.

Just like Skate, this sequel is still a lot of fun, if you can get over the frustration of how unpolished some of it is. They’ve definitely made it a more engaging experience, but I’m beginning to pray that the next game is about a Skater fascist state where all the non-skaters are locked away and off the streets.

“…and you think, “That was really a touching story that I just found out there.” And it wasn’t actually the game…”

Once again, Jonathan Blow’s got me thinking.

He raises some interesting points in the latter half of the interview. It’s stuff he’s said before, in various interviews, about story telling in games. I’m not sure I agree with 100% of it—I’m most commonly of the school that sees the value and enjoyment, not to mention effectiveness of cutscenes, be they pre-rendered or CG, and the traditional model of games that try to split game and story down the middle.

Though near the end of the discussion, Blow starts talking about the games of ‘08, and the best parts of those games. He mentions that the bits that felt most personal and emotional didn’t follow the traditional form, and weren’t part of the intended emotional cues.

As I thought about this, I realized that there have been plenty of games that had moments like that for me this year; moments where I felt an emotional reaction or response to something that a) was unintentional, in terms of what the developer had created, or b) I didn’t expect to respond to as much as, or in the way that, I did.

Keep in mind, these are only the games I played this year, so if I missed something, let me know. Also there will be spoilers

Braid

We’re going to start with Blow’s masterpiece game, since he’s the one that got me rolling on this ball anyways.

Now, a lot has been said about what the game is really intending to convey. The introduction and epilogue are both text-heavy moments that try to throw various metaphors or possible ideas at you, and I found those parts to be rather pretentious and kind of boring.

But what I did like and instantly grasped, as many people did, was that Braid had an overarching metaphor that sat on top of all the others: the princess. To stencil out the main objective in early Mario and then apply real world emotion to it was interesting, and as the game went on I actually felt glad when protagonist Tim simply walks past the Barney-esque dino, whose soul purpose is to tell you that your princess is still unattainable.

But as I got near the end of the game, the mechanics of the game, which blow attempts so heartily to braid (get it?) together with meaning, started to stick out. Having to place the time-displacing ring at just the right, arbitrary spot, grew irritating. I was hoping for it to seen be over.

That’s when I got to the final level, which you can see below (you may have to click the arrow on the right and watch it in HQ).

This was the moment when I realized just how important Blow’s marriage of gameplay and meaning really hit me. To have simply watched it unravel in a cutscene would have been like watching Memento again. But actually driving the scenes, knowing that by moving forward you’re almost literally pushing away the thing you’re trying to attain…that was awesome.

Had the game ended right then and there, I would have been a happy man-child man. It’s such a subtle thing, and something I had seen before. But I found myself thinking about it for days after completion. By far one of the best endings to anything I’ve ever experienced.

 

Fable II

Now, I have an odd history with post-Bullfrong Molyneux games. He creates these interesting premises for games, and then fails to implement them in ways that I enjoy—or rather, anyone would enjoy. The most heart breaking of these for me was The Movies. After all that potential went down the drain, I swore off of his games for a long time.

That was until Fable II. I will say, I actually enjoyed the game, and it does feel like Molyneux learned a few lessons about overpromising—though, not entirely, considering the emotion wheel boils down to an area of effect spell that can make groups love you or hate you en mass.

In early videos, Molyneaux showed two things he said were super unique to the game. One was how things can happen dynamically in your world, even during Co-op. So if you make an emotional connection with a woman and marry her, your co-op partner can then off her. The problem with this, of course, is that the process of attaining a wife is so hollow and bereft of any emotional connection that you kinda want to off all of the villagers yourself.

The second unique item he showed was the dog. Now, I will be the first to admit that when I initially saw this thing, I thought it was fucking ridiculous. A dog that follows you around and “helps” you in combat, and does tricks for you? Ohh, yay. I in no way expect to feel the level of companionship Molyneaux was promising I would feel for this totally ancillary game mechanic.

Boy was I wrong.

Now, this obviously falls in the latter category of simply not expecting to feel something for my furry companion. It’s the strangest thing, feeling a connection with this virtual dog. Maybe it’s partly because I’ve always wanted one, who knows. All I know is, I found myself talking to it. Seriously, every time it barked at me because it had found treasure for me to dig up, I found myself saying things like “oh, what is it boy?” I made a point to pet him when he did good things for me. I found joy in sicking him onto lowly peasants (this is when I played an evil character in the second go around).

The saddest part, really, is that the dog is really the only thing I felt a genuine connection to in the game. Sure you’re this hero with all these moral/immoral choices to make, but who care? In the game’s grand scheme, it’s all sort of the same. The only moment at which I felt real emotion was when the dog gets shot, at which point I actually screamed “NO!” at my monitor. Yep, it happened.

Grand Theft Auto IV

The first review of GTA IV I saw was on the now-defunct 1up Show (the creators of which have gone on to promising endeavors). I think it was Ryan O’donnell who remarked about how well this updated version of Liberty City was constructed. He recommended getting in a cab, picking a destination, and just looking out the windows through the whole ride.

To be quite honest, I didn’t buy that praise, at first. For one thing I was out of town the week the game arrived, so I couldn’t pick it up right away. But also, things like that have been said about open-world games before, how immersive they are and how real-worldy they feel. Someone said that about Saints Row, which baffled me to no end.

But seriously, once the game gives you the freedom to move around, cabbing from one place to another should be your first priority. Only then did I get my first real taste of just how real this city feels. That’s the part I didn’t expect, the part that still has me going back to it now and again; I came for the action, but I stayed for the city.

Now, I don’t mean that in a “jacking into the matrix” sense. There’s still sort of an uncanny valley disconnect with a game like this as soon as you start capping fools and running over hookers just so you can do blow off their torsos. But Rockstar did a brilliant thing in constructing their slice of Americana. They hired guys for months to do nothing but go to New York and take photos of every inch, and dug up blueprints of sewer lines and a number of other things that, to us, would seem sort of superfluous. They took all that information, and used it to build a city that looks and moves like a city should, no matter what type of district your in. At no point did I think any part of the city was unrealistic, or unbelievable.

Now this is all supported by some great periphery stuff— things like fully self-referential systems of media and culture, and a fan-fucking-tastic physics system. The game also doesn’t force you into the more mercurial parts of the game until something like three to five hours in, which gives you plenty of time to feels comfortable in this places. I swear for the first little while I felt compelled to follow every damn traffic law, until the uncanny valley stuff kicks in.

 

Prince of Persia (Xbox 360).

 

I certainly expect to have such a long conversation about this game’s ending. This was quite a talked-about conclusion.

To put it simply, I absolutely love the ending of this game. That’s a lucky thing, considering the final boss battle sequence was incredibly lack-lustre—I’m still having trouble finding where in the Avesta it says you can kill Arhiman by letting him eat you.

However, the real ending, after the credits roll and you carry Elika out of the temple…I thoroughly loved it. Keep in mind, I never ended up finishing Shadow of the Colossus. For some reason the game just couldn’t maintain my interest. One of the guys I linked to talks about how it reminded him of Existenz, and I totally agree. To me, having the frustration and pain of undoing all you did as a player be paralleled to feelings of frustration and grief and loss the prince would have as a character is brilliant.

Now the fault in this logic of designing this ending, I think, was that they made most of the heart-felt dialogue between the key characters entirely optional. Being one who enjoyed Assasin’s Creed because of the supplementals, I was definitely one to listen to every conversation, and so the emotional connection was totally there for me.

 

Fallout 3

I can’t remember the last time I played a game that so thoroughly rewards you for exploration. I will never understand the flak this game received about the overworld being barren and boring.

The epitome of this for me came when I was strolling towards downtown D.C., and I stumbled upon a dilapidated little town. In the corner of my eye, I noticed that three of the houses were still standing, so I figured I’d go scavenge for goods. Except instead of empty homes, I found families living inside them; there were people who had survived the destruction of their town, and were going on as if nothing had happened. Surely, they had gone mad.

So I moved from one house to the other, the first two both having four-person families inside—two adults, two kids. The last house, however, had one little old man, with a very simple message: “Get out now! Those people are crazy, they’ll kill you!”

When I asked the other villagers, they simply played off that the old man was crazy. I was ready to leave right then and there, until I noticed a locked up shed behind one of the houses. My curiosity was peaked; I would wait until nightfall, and then I would find the truth.

Cannibals. Damn dirty cannibals! They were killing wanderers from the Wasteland and using them to feed their families! When I confronted them, they told me that to kill them would be hypocritical—hadn’t I killed to survive during my time in the Wasteland?

In most games I would have just shrugged it aside and offed them without consideration. But this time, I actually debated it with myself for a good 5-10 minutes.

This this type of interaction is littered throughout the game is astounding.