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Nolan North, You Are Not Samuel L. Jackson

2009-12-03T20:45:00.013-08:00

I write this not because I think Nolan North has a misconception about the existence of a country called 'What,' but because I'm concerned that Mr. North doesn't quite have the same ubiquitous appeal as Jackson, despite the recent casting decisions made by many developers.

I like Nolan North. I think he does great voice work, especially wielding the dry wit of Nathan Drake in the Uncharted series, but I'm starting to wonder if he might not be getting a tad over exposed. I mean, he's already typecast as the Lovable Rogue--which, as far as typecasting goes, is pretty good--but it sometimes feels like the man is in every game I play. Assassin's Creed 2 is the latest in a long list that has got me thinking about it.

As Desmond, North's character in AC2, was opening the game, I immediately recognized North's voice and couldn't dissociate it from Nathan Drake's. Did he voice Desmond in the first game too? Curious, I looked up the voice credits for AC1 and, lo-and-behold he had done the voice work for the original as well, before he exploded as the voice of Drake back in 2007.

This past summer North also starred as the voice of Jason Fleming in the biggest-selling Xbox Live title to date, Shadow Complex. Jason so much resembled Nathan Drake that many people took to calling the game Uncharted Complex.

In 2008, North starred as the re-imagined Prince in the newest Prince of Persia. Again, north seemed to play Nathan Drake, adapted to a mythical ancient Persia-type setting.

So, North has starred in two Assassin's Creed games, two Uncharted games, Shadow Complex and Prince of Persia, for a total of six mega-selling triple-A titles all released within the past two years.

Aside from this already exorbitant amount of exposure, North has done videogame voice work for Dragon Age: Origins, Halo 3, Halo ODST, Transformers 2, inFamous, Madworld, Gears of War 2, Metal Gear Solid 4, Dark Sector, Lost Odyssey, Unreal Tournament III, Spider-Man 3, TMNT, Rachet and Clank: Size Matters, Lost Planet, Resistance: Fall of Man, SOCOM, Marvel Ultimate Alliance, Saints Row, Call of Duty 2, God of War, Everquest II and, in addition, only about a hundred cartoons and television shows. He's also already slated for what seems to be a major supporting role in Obsidian's upcoming RPG/FPS, Alpha Protocol.

Again, I do enjoy North's work. However, the fact that I now recognize his voice in most games I play, even if it's just as Red Shirt #1, is really starting to hurt my sense of immersion and investment. Not so much when North is playing backup, but when the leads from three of my favorite series start to become some strange amalgamation of Assassin/Prince/Fortune Hunter, it really does make me stop, think "North has his fingers in this one too?" and wonder why it is that so many developers see him as a buoy for character development and likability.

He's good. He's not so good to keep from being instantly recognizable and slightly grating as when he (too often) plays only slight variations of Drake's character. There are lots of videogame voice actors that also seem to be in every game, but, to their credit, their characters are more diverse in disposition.

I guess I'm worried that North is commanding too much of a monopoly on the male-lead parts in the videogame casting world. I like his work, but I don't want to hear him in everything I play and, if I must, I really want him to start trying harder and not just settle into channeling Nathan Drake for every character.

Is it just me? What do you guys think? Do you notice him too, or is his mile-long list of credits a surprise to you? If you have noticed him, has it bothered you?

Edit: Also, does it bother anyone else that the characters he plays the same all look similar to each other (and to him!) to boot?

Print: Life After Death in Killscreen Magazine

2009-12-01T15:12:00.007-08:00

It seems strange to me that a magazine that intends to discuss the finer points of digital interactivity is taking the print route, but nevertheless it has piqued my interest. Killscreen, reports Wired Magazine, intends to deliver "literary minded games writing," and help debunk the stereotype (that I don't exactly agree exists) that gamers don't read.

To its credit, Killscreen looks to have a fairly glamorous line-up of writers, boasting contributors from The New Yorker, GQ, The Daily Show, Christian Science Monitor, LA Times, The Colbert Report, The Onion and Paste. Their focus will be to discuss and dissect what games mean culturally and what it means individually to be a gamer; Killscreen aims to be "what early Rolling Stone was to rock n' roll or Wired was to tech" for the ongoing entertainment shift towards gaming today.

Not to detract from the noble ambitions of the project, but it does seem rather presumptuous to ask gamers to drop $20 on this star-studded think-tank when videogame analysis is in no short supply uh, everywhere, on the internet. Gamasutra's servers seem powered on insight and debate alone, and they're just one outlet. Killscreen's writers are, however, writing to address the exact kinds of questions I'd like to see answered, so I'm rooting for them to do well.

Here's hoping the first issue (no release date yet) is a success, and we can be privy to the birth of a lovely little literary gaming magazine.

A Fistful of Dollars...Thousands and Thousands of Dollars

2009-11-26T20:31:00.011-08:00

As those who watch my gamerscore on the left there over there <--- may know, I've been playing Assassin's Creed II lately. A lot has been said about the game, mostly good (though there's a certain truth to this Destructoid review of AC2 that almost made me want to toss my copy in the garbage. I didn't. The quibbles addressed exist, but they're not game-ruining), mostly touching on how AC2 is more ambitious and better executed that its predecessor. This is all true, in my assessment, but one new mechanic that was added, a fairly hefty one, isn't getting the praise it deserves. The economy in AC2 is something that more game developers need to pay attention to.

Plenty of games out there use money. Gil, rupees, coins, rings, bottlecaps and plain old dollars get tossed around in videogames like they don't even matter. And that's the problem: they don't. Too many games out there suffer from broken economies in which the player, usually no further than midgame, is richer than God and looks better than him too because of all the sweet armor he's bought. Money might mean the difference between a better gun, sword or shield in the first few hours of the game, but by the time the player has handled a few quests the money is their pocket is reduced to free whatever-you-want vouchers.

Two recent-ish games whose economies have disappointed me sorely: Grand Theft Auto IV and Fallout 3. Both games attempt, and largely succeed, at creating intricate, believable worlds inhabited by (somewhat) believable characters that interact in a believable way. The only glaring fault, for me, is that my interaction with them is different because I can buy and sell their assess just as fast as I can snap my fingers. In GTAIV: The Ballad of Gay Tony, the most recent GTA experience I've had, I was swimming in money like Scrooge McDuck within the first hour of my game. I could have cars delivered to me for free, I could take weapons from my enemies, buy discount weapons from my friends and every mission gave me enough money to wallpaper my apartment with. I was being given too much money, and I didn't even need to spend it to begin with. My megabucks became an empty number; I didn't feel empowered by the growth of my in-game bank account because it had no value to my character.

Similarly, in Fallout 3, I left the vault with maybe fifty caps looted from the vault guards I had downed. After an hour or two wandering the wasteland, shooting and looting raiders and prying open every metal box and locker I could find I had just enough money to get myself comfortably outfitted at Megaton's weapons shop. I was impressed. I felt like my money had been hard-fought and earned, and the classy new armor and death-deliverers it translated into were worth the time and effort I put into getting them. Looking for money wasn't easy, but it was worth it, I thought. This wasteland is tough, but I like it, and I'm going to get out there and conquer it, I thought. Jump just a few hours ahead and I had already killed for some of the better weapons in the game and received a free suit of the (almost) best armor in the game from one of the fallen brotherhood soldiers. Jump ahead a few more hours, when I no longer needed to barter for caps, when I simply started to round up what the merchant owed me in Stimpaks (of which I now no longer dipped below a reservoir of 200 in my inventory) and I'm starting to feel like I am the one-man second coming of capitalism in the wasteland. Sadly, none of the golden eggs of the game, the unique weapons and armor, we purchasable, only findable. What if one or two of them could have only been bought? Where was my motivation to accrue money and spend it wisely? Why did Fallout and GTAIV's economies drop the ball and leave me feeling like my money was only for show?

It's because neither game gave me enough appropriate reasons and places to spend my money. Sure, both games technically have hundred of places to buy stuff, but they all sold the same things: just stuff, stuff I could find in the world just as easily as I could pay for it. Both games lacked imagination in offering me ways to spend cash. The options were spend money on one-off things that don't matter, like going out to eat or paying off a slave-trader (when I could have just as easily killed or persuaded him) or use it to buy items I would encounter piles of out in the game world. In this respect, AC2 really does rise above.

In AC2 there are the usual things like armor, weapons and healing to spend your money on. Where AC2 diversifies is in your ability to invest your money, and gain through spending. AC2 encourages the player to spend money to increase the value of their hub area, a small Villa in the Italian countryside. Everything the player buys, from armor to weapons to local art increases the return they get on the Villa. The Villa pays out a certain sum every twenty minutes, and this sum increases with the assets (armor, weapons, art, lots of collectibles) acquired by the player. This sum also has a cap, so the player must withdraw the money frequently in order to earn more. This isn't always possible, since the player must actually return to the Villa to get it (sometimes annoying, but I'm making a point about the intelligently controlled flow of money), so the money is your Villa is safe, but it doesn't grow infinitely. The Villa's return also increases for every full set of armor or weapons bought, and also for every building the player chooses to renovate in the Villa, so you end up buying a lot of things you might otherwise ignore, because maybe a mace isn't part of your playstyle, and giving them a try. None of this stuff comes cheap, either. Just one sword can easily wipe out what Ezio, the main character, is carrying on him and this means doing more missions or heading back to the Villa. Even paying for new clothes comes with a clever caveat: you're paying to dye your clothes, not get new ones, so you never amass a wardrobe. Every time you feel like flashing some new colors it's going to cost you, and every new city you visit has about five new dye schemes.

There are other games that handle in-game economy quite well (Valkyria Chronicles comes to mind), but few games in the action genre really know what to do with it. AC2 doesn't have the developed economy of a Sid Meier game, but the economy also isn't a central feature in AC2. The game is primarily about climbing and killing. The economy is there for players that want to get everything in the game--and not just have it handed to them, but to earn it. Do you want to be a rich assassin or a poor assassin? It's just a small question in a thoroughly satisfying game.

Disappointing, Predictable Sales for DJ Hero & Brütal Legend

2009-11-22T15:15:00.008-08:00

Brütal Legend and DJ Hero, which launched last month to (mostly) positive reviews, are tanking in sales. According to Kotaku, Tim Schafer's metal-fest Brütal Legend moved a meager 215, 000 copies and Activision's first non-guitar hero musical outing, DJ Hero, sold an even smaller 122, 330 units last month.

These numbers aren't exactly surprising: Schafer's games have a thing for doing well by critics and awful at the register, and to most, DJ Hero just looks like more living room clutter. Both games are also getting buried under the pre-Christmas triple-A avalanche of Modern Warfare 2, Assassin's Creed 2, New Super Mario Bros. Wii and Dragon Age: Origins (maybe not as high caliber as the others, but hey, I worked on it so it's got to be good, right?). DJ Hero also has the added impairment of starting at $120.

What's unfortunate is that both of these games are highly original and totally optimistic from a design standpoint. Brütal Legend has been accused of trying to do too much and not doing anything perfectly as a result, but everything it does (driving, strategy, exploration, combat), it does with such metal-headed zeal that it's hard not to keep playing. To be fair, it's a short game and, for most, probably doesn't warrant a purchase. That doesn't mean that it isn't ambitious or important though. It's a unique game that deserves your time, if not your money. Give it a rent and tell me you didn't have fun with it.

DJ Hero is kind of in the same boat. People don't exactly aspire to be DJs the same way they do rockstars. Most people also don't aspire to drop $120 on one game that has more than one Rihanna track on it. Sadly for them, they're missing out on some fresh magic, the kind that came innocuously bundled with Guitar Hero 1, before anyone knew how the franchise would blow up. DJ Hero is fresh in terms of gameplay, style and, above all, music. The mixes in this game easily warrant the sale of a stand-alone soundtrack as they range from hilariously novel (MC Hammer vs. Vanilla Ice), eerily moving (Gorillaz vs. Marvin Gaye) to completely awesome (Eminem vs. Beck).

I bought both games. I don't know it if it was smart to have purchased either, but I do know that I've enjoyed my time with both enough to encourage others to go out, play them, and hopefully breathe some life into the franchises. For the love of gaming, give 'em a shot.

Burn the Reel: Why Kane Doesn’t Belong in Games

2009-10-16T14:35:00.005-07:00

I’ve discussed the incongruity of comparing videogames to movies here before, but the discussion about when gaming will receive its “Citizen Kane” has reached new heights, and they are ridiculous. It seems the King, or in this case Queen, has been crowned: Metroid Prime is, apparently, the Citizen Kane of games.

Michael Thomsen of ign.com went on national television to let everyone know. Thanks, Mike.

To take a quick stab at this: is the comparison between Citizen Kane and Metroid Prime really apt? The Metroid experience has been iterated several times over the years. Citizen Kane was the first and last film to feature Kane, and it seems many critics agreed it did so perfectly. Samus has had plenty of adventures before she appeared in the Prime series, and she’s had plenty since, with more to come. What if, down the road, there appears a more definitive version of Metroid than Prime? Whoops.

I could go on about why I don’t think Metroid Prime is a genre-defining candidate capable of speaking for the industry, but it would only belay my point that the comparison doesn’t matter in the first place.

The thing that really grinds my gears about this isn’t that it was Metroid Prime that was chosen to represent the entire medium of gaming; it’s more that I am becoming frustrated and disappointed in the games industry doggedly trying to get approval from people who don’t care about the artistic integrity of games because they simply do not care about games to begin with. The ‘other side’ we are trying to convince doesn’t have a stake in whether or not games are artistic. Proving artistic merit won’t convert some invisible group of would-be gamers that are just waiting for a cue from critics to adopt the hobby. It’s like expecting someone to love a painting on the basis that it is legitimate enough to be shown in an art gallery. Even if we prove that games can be art there will still be people that don’t like games. I wonder sometimes if this search for approval is actually just a desperate bid for validation so that gamers will finally have something to shoot back with when someone tells them “games are for kids.” We shouldn’t be striving to stick it to people that clearly don’t care enough about games to think outside of stereotypes.

Simply put, the search for the Citizen Kane of games is embarrassing. The Citizen Kane of games, when it arrives, won’t be known as “The Citizen Kane of Games” because it will be completely valid in its own right. Citizen Kane isn’t known as the Beowulf of film. The definitive game won’t need to be measured against Citizen Kane, or anything else for that matter. If it is truly the definitive realization of the maturation of games, it will be completely unique to gaming and necessarily incomparable to anything from another medium because what it does wouldn’t be possible in any other medium. It wouldn’t mimic the characteristics of an industry-defining movie, precisely because it would be a game and not a movie. The best point I’ve heard all week to this effect:

“Every now and then someone tries to sell a game by claiming it’s cinematic, meaning that it’s an interactive experience that apes a non-interactive medium. It’s the equivalent of a film consisting entirely of text scrolls in order to be more like a book.” – Ben Croshaw, Zero Punctuation

The validation of games will happen when it is no longer sought after. When we stop attempting to measure games against the successes of other mediums, we might be clear-thinking enough to realize that games aren’t justifiably comparable to other media. There is no one-to-one ratio for games to movies, comic books or anything else. That is why the industry has succeeded and failed in its own right, independent of Hollywood or press, and why there are people who enjoy games and people who don’t. In our endless search for the Citizen Kane of videogames we are the self-righteous child in elementary school that holds a grudge against the classmates that won’t be his friends. If we as gamers can resign ourselves to the fact that gaming is not, and shouldn’t seek to be, for everybody, then we will be better for it. It could free our thinking—maybe enough to allow that genre-defining title to be created.

Rape Games Banned in Japan: Sex Sells, But Should Rape Sell Too?

2009-06-05T11:10:00.014-07:00

This article, announcing the ban of rape games in Japan, was posted on Kotaku the other day. Rape games are games in which it is the player’s objective to successfully attack or otherwise coerce women in the game into sex without consent.

Brian Ashcraft, Kotaku’s Night Editor located in Japan, has been following the story of the ban for the past few weeks. His posts have detailed his resentment over the fact that rape videogames, as opposed to rape comics and rape pornography, are the only medium under scrutiny. He tells readers to “expect more creative ways of masking rape and rape iconography as well as possibly more ‘amateur’ or unlicensed games” and that “there's always the rape pornography and rape comic books that will most likely continue, business as usual.” He implies that rape games should be left alone, just like other rape related entertainment, to succeed or fail on their own merit. His main argument is that the games are released legally, which most were, and that there should be no further investigation of the genre for this reason.

What really gets me about Ashcraft’s articles is the 'if they can do it, we should be able to too' attitude in his writing. Rather than taking the position of gaming being the pioneer of ending rape-as-entertainment, Ashcraft seem resentful that rape games are being shut down while other rape-related entertainment isn’t also coming under fire. Ashcraft never calls into question the validity of rape as entertainment and immediately jumps to its defense because videogames are part of the equation. This behavior reminds me of the kind of defense gamers provided against the accusations of racist imagery in Resident Evil 5 all over the net. It's all very knee-jerk.

It seems to me that there is more than a hint of paranoia within the gaming community, ingrained in us by the likes of uninformed assailants such as Jack Thompson, and that many gamers will jump in front of a bus to defend any game, under any circumstance, with no thought as whether or not there are actual issues with a game’s content. We are so ready to defend the validity of games that at times we do not check to see if what we’re defending is what we actually believe, or if we are becoming willingly blind to protect our medium. Is it not a little fucked up to be defending rape games solely on the basis that rape exists in other media?

Penn Jillette, of Penn & Teller, felt the need to exacerbate the issue:

"What blaming the video game does is it shows compassion for the rapist. It shows understanding. At some level, in some small amount, it says, 'It's not really the rapist's fault; it's society's fault for putting this stuff out here'." – Penn Jillette, “Penn Jillette Speaks Out on RapeLay,” escapistmagazine.com

Jillette’s interpretation of the situation is not only narrow, but weak. Do laws against murder normalize killing? Jillette assumes that this ban will have the largest affect on rapist and potential rapists, patting them on the head saying “it’s not your fault that you’re a violent sexual assailant.” In reality, the decision for the ban more likely included deliberation on how the trivialization of rape affects victims of the actual crime, and how normalizing sexual violence through adolescent treatment of the subject matter is spreading sexual misinformation. There will be no rapists thanking this ban for ‘curing’ them of their desire to rape.

Additionally, some gamers are defending rape games under the banner of freedom of speech and creativity, but are failing to see that rape games breach the territory of a kind of hate speech against women. The comments on the latest rape game post on Kotaku are full of opinions (men’s only, from what I can tell) on the validity of rape as entertainment:

“Anyone who looks at this [ban] and say[s] ‘It's a good thing’, yet was up in arms over Jack Thompson, the controversies over Mass Effect, Manhunt, GTA, FPS games in general, and any other game controversy, is not[h]ing more than a hypocrite, pure an[d] simple. If you are going to support freedom of speech, you have to accept it in all its forms.” – WillSerenity, commenting on “Rape Games Officially Banned in Japan,” kotaku.com

If there were a game released under the title of “Fag Hunter,” and it was ostensibly produced as fantasy fulfillment for right-wing conservatives, would anyone defend that game’s right to exist as free speech? Certainly not. So what does exchanging one oft victimized group—gay men— for another—women at large—change as far as acceptability goes? Many people arguing this issue don’t seem to understand that there are clear distinctions between free speech and hate speech.

“People need to come to the realization that speech is not free; there is a very real cost and it is almost always paid by the most vulnerable members of society.” - Renee Martin, “Fox News Provides The Vehicle To Tillers Death,” womanist-musings.com

In this instance, women. Men may have the right to sexual fantasy, but everyone has the right to feel safe. How safe would a woman feel finding out a man she knew played a game simulating rape? There is no yardstick for what measures ‘acceptable’ rape fantasy, but the profiteering and juvenile treatment of the subject is absolutely not acceptable.

"[T]here are plenty of rape victims around who can quite justifiably be shocked, horrified, further traumatized by the depiction for entertainment of the crime that caused their suffering. And they are deserving of protection. Heaven knows, they weren't protected enough in the first place, least we can do is not make things worse.” – Phisheep, commenting on “Rape Games Officially Banned in Japan,” kotaku.com

In the comments, rape in games is also being compared to murder in games as a defense, but the term “murder” is used very lightly. If two people enter into a gunfight and one dies, as in nearly every existing shooter game, there was a kind of consent within the conflict. One person fires, and the other fires back. Both player and NPC were threats to each other to begin with. There are no ‘victims’ in a willing gun-battle. There is no consent in rape. There are victims. How many games have there been where the player sneaks around killing unsuspecting victims for no reason other than fulfilling their own pathological desires? Those characters are usually the bad guys.

The kink in this issue, however, is that rape fantasy, as a private sexual practice, alone or with a partner, is a perfectly valid sexual stimulant. Many, many people, both men and women, fantasize about raping or being raped, and act on those fantasies in a safe environment with their partners or by themselves. In fantasy, the fantasizer has complete control and can derive pleasure from an imagined situation that they would never enjoy in real life. The difference between a fantasy desire and an actual desire is entirely in the individual’s power to control the situation, and therein lies the stark contrast between fantasy rape and actual rape. Men who fantasize about rape do not secretly want to rape, nor do women who fantasize about being raped actually want to be raped.

More reasonable commentors are addressing the notion of rape as a viable, normal sexual fantasy and are defending rape games as an appropriate outlet. This approach stands on some firmer ground, but all of the difficulties mentioned so far still complicate the issue.

I’m of two minds on this one. I don’t think the current state of rape games passes as responsible sexual fantasy, but I don’t feel that they should be eliminated altogether either, as there are people who do enjoy the games based of their natural inclination towards rape fantasy. Simply, rape games in their current state are so far into the territory of shock porn that it is difficult to condone the lack of morality concerning the physical and mental well-being of women.

Ultimately, this ban isn’t an outrage. It’s just a simple curiosity that has sparked some debate within the gaming community. The ban was voluntary, and was not imposed upon the industry by Japanese law. The ban was decided under a vote. The influences behind the ban are what are generating such interesting discussion. It’s not as though the doomsayers that are crying “this ban means the end of free speech” are going to convince the repeal of a voluntary ban. I think Heliophage said it best:

"It's self-censorship, what is there to get mad about? If I go outside and promise to never say the word ‘fuck’ again, will you attack me with notions of 'free speech' and my right to shout expletives?" - Heliophage, commenting on “Rape Games Officially Banned in Japan,” kotaku.com

Videogame Piracy: The Whodunit No One Gives A Crap About

2009-06-02T10:45:00.011-07:00

Before you balk at another piracy discussion, or dismiss the issue because “everyone pirates everything,” take a minute to think of the last piece of entertainment you enjoyed. Whether it was a game, a movie, a book, a comic, a TV show—it doesn’t matter—do you think it was deserving of your support? Would you want more of it? If so, did you pirate it to get access to it? Why or why not?

I think there’s a lot to be said for the consumer that chooses to actively support their chosen media. Yeah, yeah, “the machine” gets most of the money, we all know it. Publishers, retailers, manufacturers all take their cuts and the actual artists themselves see only a fraction of the profit. This is largely true. But it’s also true of most industries; the intellectual source of most products isn’t often compensated in a way most people would consider “fair,” but they are at least kept in business.

But, nonetheless, I am a staunch supporter of the artists I enjoy. I want to see more product from the developers, directors, authors and bands that I enjoy, and if their bosses aren’t getting paid, that means no more distribution, no more promotion and no more product. Are pirates really sticking it to EA when they pirate Spore, or are they sticking it to Will Wright?

Or, more likely, they’re not trying to stick anything to anyone. Most pirates claim that they pirate products simply because it is the most convenient way to get them. It sure is a hell of a lot easier to wait for a download than it is to drive to a store, deal with customers, lines and clerks to get your game. Also, it affords the less-than-affluent gamer the opportunity to test-drive a new game instead of buying it right away and being disappointed. This, I suppose, is the most valid argument for something like game piracy, but it is by no means an excuse. Often, in my experience, pirate acquaintances of mine will tell me that they played through an entire game that they have pirated and that “it was alright, but I’m glad I didn’t buy it.”

Maybe so, but you’ve still used the product. I don’t think it’s unfair for the onus to be on the consumer to research and understand what they want or don’t want to purchase. If it’s a toss up for a pirate whether or not a game they’ve downloaded will be any good, and it does turn out to be good, where’s the motivation to obtain a legal copy of the software that’s already on their machine? Outside of the rare morality stricken pirate, there isn’t any, because there are no immediate repercussions to software piracy.

Don’t get me wrong—I don’t think there should, or could, ever exist a way to immediately persecute someone for software piracy. I don’t think that the average person registers that they are committing a crime, and are denying a studio their potential as game makers when they pirate a game. There’s a lot to be said not only for the cost-effectiveness of piracy, but also the convenience. I think, though, that some education mixed with an awareness of the industry is all it takes to dissuade the would-be pirate. The education part isn’t hard to come by: it’s not difficult to see that PC gaming is in a relative slump compared to its console counterparts, and it’s no coincidence that PC games are the most easily pirated. We should probably also have a moment of silence for the Dreamcast because, ugly as its controllers were and tough as the competition was, they weren’t the only thing that brought the system, and Sega, to its knees.

The benefit of convenience, however, is an almost insurmountable counter-point that many pirates offer. Many will denounce the idea of spending time and money on gassing their vehicle, driving to the store and back, and probably spending a good amount of time in line when they could more easily pluck their entertainment from the web. How can anyone argue this logic?

Say “you’re a lazy person, and cheap too”?

They will say, proudly, “I know. So what?”

They will also often claim that if more games were made downloadable, via sources such as Steam, that their game library would instantly fill with legally obtained digital copies, as mobility was only the inconvenience that held back their long repressed desire to support the developers whose games they often enjoy for free. As a sort of case study and riposte to this argument, I’d like to bring up radiohead’s album release for In Rainbows. Listeners could download the album from the band’s site and choose to pay whatever they wished for it. Five bucks. One buck. Or Nothing. Free music, just like the pirates get, if you wanted it. Yet the album was pirated over 500, 000 times in its first few days of release, with projections of illegal copies overtaking legitimate ones over the next few weeks. The reason?

"People don't know Radiohead's site. They do know their favorite BitTorrent site and they use it every day. It's quite simply easier for folks to get the illegal version than the legal version." – Eric Garland, “Free? Steal It Anyway,” forbes.com

Games seem to suffer from a unique, if stunted, argument against legitimate purchase. It goes like this:

“Oh, if only it were available for download and I didn’t have to leave my home! Then I would pay!”

Anyone remember World of Goo? No? Maybe that’s because over 90% of its download-only release were illegally obtained copies. This game has a meta critic rating of 94% and it only costs twenty bucks and now its publishers have filed for bankruptcy. Why did this happen? Again, it’s just flat out easier to pirate, somehow making it okay to steal for all but those 10% of owners who thought this masterpiece of a game was worth twenty measly dollars.

So piracy is a tough bug to squash indeed. However, there are some neat people sharing their neat ideas on the subject. Michael Lynton, Chairman and CEO of Sony Pictures Entertainment compares the advent of the internet to that the of the interstate highway system. Both allow for easier connection between their users, but only one was built with guardrails:

“In no other realm of our society have we encountered so widespread and consequential a failure to put in place guidelines over the use and growth of such a major industry.” – Michael Lynton, “Guardrails for the Internet,” huffingtonpost.com

He pretty much straight up hates the internet. I don’t. I hate some of its unthinking users and the greediness, laziness and financial circumstances that lead them to piracy. Unfortunately, gamers have no more right to free games than they have to free anything else and no misplaced sense of entitlement is going to change that. If a gamer can only afford to purchase a handful of games each year, then it is their responsibility, if they want the industry to continue to flourish, to know what to own and what to avoid, and to not simply go fishing on torrent sites to see what’s good, free, and easy to get. If you’re pirating, you have internet. Go to Google and press the keys ‘v’ ‘i’ ‘d’ ‘e’ ‘o’ ‘g’ ‘a’ ‘m’ ‘e’ ‘r’ ‘e’’ ‘v’ ‘i’ ‘e’ ‘w’ ‘s’ in that order and see what pops up.

It might be knowledge!

RE5 Quick Hit Update: N'Gai Croal chats with RE5 producer Jun Takeuchi

2009-05-19T11:04:00.004-07:00

Keep an eye out for when this article drops for real. Sounds like it has the makings of a great discussion.

"And as Takeuchi went on to explain that the enemies with the grass skirts and spears were seeking to defend the ruins from intruders and that he'd been inspired by Indiana Jones movies, I felt like I once again understood where he'd been coming from. That a two-to-three-week to unspecified African countries and looking at a number of movies set in Africa alongside pop-cultural inspirations like the Indiana Jones series simply hadn't been enough to sufficiently educate him or the team about he legacy of the imagery that they were tapping in to and , as a result, they'd lost control of their message." - Croal

Why I Won’t Be Playing Resident Evil 5, Part Two

2009-04-29T19:28:00.006-07:00

So my last post, detailing why I had chosen not to play Resident Evil 5, seems to have touched a few nerves with some readers. I’ve decided to dedicate the second part of my discussion about RE5 to some of the issues raised in last week’s comments section.

Before I start though, there are few things I’d like to say lest passion take you over and you want to rush to the comments section to tell me how wrong my opinions are:

First, shoulderbuttons is a discussion space. Please treat it as such. It’s not a cage match, nor a petition. This means no more personal attacks on me or other commenters, please. If you disagree with me, that’s peachy. I hope we can learn from it. But I don’t need to be attacked to understand your point. I’m simply trying to foster discussion with those who want to have it and think critically about gaming culture and the industry. I don’t need to be told that I will not, or cannot, change things by writing this blog, and that I should be out protesting or something if I truly cared about the topics I choose to write about. Intelligent discussion is where new ideas, and changes, begin. Thank you, everyone reading this, for respecting these guidelines and ideas.

Hopefully, with this out of the way, we can all tastefully disagree with each other without mudslinging, and maybe, just maybe, start to treat the videogame medium with the seriousness it is finally starting to deserve. The industry is no longer in its infancy and we owe it to gaming, and to ourselves as gamers, to give it a critical look now and then. Too often, we blindly defend our entertainment of choice because we are so used to protecting it from uninformed scrutiny (Hot Coffee mod, the Mass Effect ‘sex scandal,’ uh, anything that ever came out of Jack’s mouth). If, however, you are like me and wish someday to see games be recognized as a legitimate form of narrative, or even art, then we as gamers have to start treating it seriously ourselves first.

That includes making criticisms and asking difficult questions about some of our favorite games when they broach sensitive topics like racism, sexism, violence against women, homosexuality, disability, mental illness, religion or anything of that nature. Games, and developers, are not always in the right in the ways they choose to present some of these issues. To smooth things over by saying “it’s just a game” is doing videogames, as a growing medium, an injustice. Games must treat their subject matter with as much respect as any other medium. Even satire, something like the Grand Theft Auto series, must understand what it is before it can make humor from serious situations. I think GTA does, for the most part, understand how to present itself and how it can be a (de)constructive commentary about North American culture, despite themes of murder, drug-abuse, racism, kidnapping, extortion, etc. The trouble I have with RE5 is that I don’t think it is aware of itself.

I don’t mean to say this as a condemnation of Capcom. A lot of people seem to think I am making the claim that Capcom is overtly trying to ‘say something’ about black people. I don’t think that RE5 is inherently racist. I do believe that there are scenarios in the game that depict black people pretty poorly, to say the least. I think that Capcom has inadvertently leaned on some serious racial stereotypes in their game, and my problem is that these kinds of issues weren’t checked at the door. So to be clear: I don’t think Capcom invented racism. Also, I don’t believe that playing RE5 will make you a racist, or that if you enjoyed the game it is because you are a racist. Far from it. However, I think that RE5 is a prime example of the kind of game that needs a critical eye turned on it, and not to be forgiven simply because so many of us love the series, or because it is a videogame, or any other excuse. I believe, to some extent, that the developers must have been aware of the imagery they used, and how it is plays into racism. There are some stark themes in the game: white versus black (Chris versus black zombie hordes and no, half-black half-white companions do not make it better), black as scary, black as primitive, black as poor, black as weak and susceptible, ‘developed’ nations versus ‘undeveloped’ nations just to list a few.

Now, despite the title of this post, I have started to play RE5, but with a pen and notepad in hand. It was clear that I couldn’t criticize the game based solely on what I had seen in trailers and in the demo. I just wrapped the Ogre-boss (the one you fight from the mounted truck-gun, and who whips telephone poles at you), so I’m a few good hours into the game. To be honest, when I started playing, I really felt like I was going to see a lot of what I had already written about and feel embarrassed for having spoken out against it. From playing, I’ve actually come away more surprised with the racial representations in the game than I thought I would be. One of the stand-out worst moments for me is still the sack beating (the whole scene starts at 4:10 in the video) at the beginning of the game. Again, there’s no indication that anyone involved in the scene is infected. The beating happens in the middle of the day, in an otherwise bustling kind of town. There are other villagers walking around and no one is paying any mind to the men with large knives and bats beating something or someone tied up in a sack. Even as Chris and Sheva, you can watch this beating for as long as you like, but you are never allowed to actually intervene. This scene seems to speak that this place--Africa, as opposed to North America or Spain--is dangerous normally, never mind the impending zombie infestation. To go back on something I said in my last post, this scene actually isn’t anything like the burning of the policeman (seen at 2:40 in the video) in RE4. By the sack beating scene in RE5 the player hasn’t even been attacked yet, nor are they attacked by the perpetrating thugs. Why not? If it were an infected in the sack, would they not say something about it to Chris or anyone else in the town? Would no one in the town show some concern? If those men themselves were infected, would they not attack Chris and Sheva? This is how the violence in RE5 is normalized and contemporized. Violence in this new setting is treated as normal in the first thirty seconds of the game.

A second sore point that has stood out for me in the first half of the game is the color of the enemy hierarchy. Every game with enemies has weak, moderate, and strong enemies that are usually distinguished visually somehow. In RE5, the stronger an enemy, the darker his skin. Many have pointed out the peppering of white zombies in the hordes at the beginning of the game, but it didn’t take long (maybe until the mine level) that the white zombies disappeared almost entirely. On top of that, the game had by then started introducing more difficult enemies, like the burly guys who bull-rush you, or the chainsaw men similar to those in RE4. Both of these enemies are darker skinned than the regular zombie horde. The burly guys are so dark that, at one point, my co-op partner said “I’m not trying to be racist or anything, but these guys are so dark I can’t even see them.”

Now this is where the message might be confused and some might think I’m accusing Capcom of saying that the darker someone is, the scarier they are. No. I am not saying that. I am, however, calling out that exact pre-existing stereotype and saying that Capcom has applied it here in their enemy hierarchy (outside of stylized bosses). This is the issue I have with RE5 as a whole: it’s latched onto pre-existing stereotypes about public violence in Africa, darkness being scary, whiteness as good and cleansing and has incorporated these ideas into their game, misinformed as they are.

Like Yahtzee said, “Capcom aren’t bad people, they’re just idiots.”

So, no, I don’t think RE5 is a bad game that no one should play. I simply think that it’s a game deserving some raised eyebrows and some thought to how it represents race. I could easily go on about RE5, but I’d really like to move on from this discussion here at shoulderbuttons for the time being. I hope everyone can bring some constructive points to the comments section. Thank you.

Here’s some behind the scenes for you. There’s a handful of quotes I dug up to use in the article, but decided against in favour of letting my own voice drive the post, and also part of a discussion I had with a friend that really helped open up how I thought about the game. Have a look and see what you think:

“The comparison to RE4 is a great one that I fully intend to build upon in one of my next posts. Yes, shooting a bunch of Spaniards is just as bad, but, like you and many other people pointed out, the game will have zombies local to wherever the game is set. Spain will have Spanish zombies. Africa will have African zombies. But the Spanish zombies in RE4 didn't imp Spanish stereotypes. There were no zombie matadors. Why are there Africans that "revert" (to stereotypes, mind you) to their more "primal" selves and don headdresses and the like in RE5? Nothing in RE4 made commentary on Spanish people. It could have been set in Amish America without having changed a thing other than the voice acting. I guess I want to know why African zombies imp African stereotypes when Spanish ones didn't. And why there is so much recognizable imagery of African strife (the huge, dark guy with the megaphone a la Black Hawk Down, but who is also reminiscent of a diamond lord or a guerilla warlord) but none to be found in RE4? There's social problems in Spain. Why did they choose to highlight the social problems and associated imagery only in RE5, in Africa, and never in Spain or even America in REs 1,2 and 3? Seems fishy to me. Not intentional, I don't think, but definitely not very cognizant of existing social stigmas.” – Me, in a conversation about RE5

“But discussions about colonialism are only dealt with obliquely in the game — Chris never reflects on his position as a white male in Africa nor does he discuss race with his African partner, Sheva. The game presents only one option to survive against African zombies: kill every single one.” – Jamin Brophy-Warren, “’Resident Evil 5’ Reignites Debate About Race in Videogames,” The Wall Street Journal

“The point isn't that you can't have black zombies. There was a lot of imagery in that trailer that dovetailed with classic racist imagery. What was not funny, but sort of interesting, was that there were so many gamers who could not at all see it. Like literally couldn't see it. So how could you have a conversation with people who don't understand what you're talking about and think that you're sort of seeing race where nothing exists?” – N’Gai Croal, “This Imagery Has A History,” MTV Multiplayer

“My problem is that it presents a fantasy I don't desire. It looks like it's an advertisement to virtually shoot poor people...Shooting zombies is something I can get behind...But when I see a town of what looks like impoverished African villagers — the very image of global poverty, the very spectacle that since my youth has been coded in me to evoke sympathy and charity — I don't want to pull the trigger.” – Stephen Totilo, “That Notorious “Resident Evil 5″ Trailer And The People I Met In Africa,” MTV Multiplayer

And of course, Zero Punctuation's review of RE5, which makes a brief but hilariously critical comment on racism in the game.

Why I Won’t Be Playing Resident Evil 5, Part One: Reinforcing the Stereotype of a Black Threat (aka “The Other”)

2009-03-22T17:35:00.010-07:00

Having wrestled with the decision for a long time, I’ve finally reached some personal conclusions that I’d like to outline in my next few posts. There’s simply too much to discuss in Resident Evil 5 for one single blog post, so I’m going to break it down into a few pieces expressing my views on the game itself and also its coverage in the gaming press. Here goes.

I’ve been a fan of the Resident Evil series since Resident Evil 2 was released in 1998 and, truthfully, I am sad to be passing up the fifth instalment now after being a fan of eleven years. I’m not going to forsake the series altogether, but after researching for this article I just can’t reconcile my desire to play the game with its representation of Africans and the use of violent imagery as it is in RE5.

From a story and love-of-the-series perspective, I really do want to find out what’s happened to Jill, how Wesker’s plot will be resolved (if it ever is) and how the hell the Mansion comes back into play (if that even is the Mansion shown in trailers). However, from what I’ve played of the demo, seen in trailers, and read about in the bevy of articles written prior to its release, it seems to me that Capcom has released a socially irresponsible product in Resident Evil 5 that I simply cannot justify playing for myself. I don’t want to tacitly accept its ill conceived messages, and I hate to think of how many people may play the game without ever giving it the critical look it deserves. It’s not that RE5 is the only game that has skirted the lines of political correctness, but it’s a prime example of a game that players should be giving serious thought to why they are playing, and what they are gaining from the experience, be it positive or negative.

To give some context to my feelings about RE5, I think I need to identify myself a bit. I am a white middle class, able-bodied, male. I’m privileged over many people in so many ways—experiencing a system of unearned benefits every day—and I must always recognize this in order to be the socially responsible person I aspire to be. I have no conception of what it is like to be discriminated against in any significant way. I have never struggled financially, experienced what it is like to be a person of color (POC), or experienced the challenges disabled individuals face.

Now you may be reading this thinking “Okay, well, RE5 never goes out of its way to be explicitly racist or discriminatory to people of African decent or anyone else. Besides, we’ve all killed thousands of zombies of every creed (especially Spanish in RE4) in all the Resident Evil games since the first. Why should I feel any different about killing African zombies than Spanish ones? Why do you, Reid?”

Well, there’s a good laundry list of reasons, but it starts with me not understanding what it’s like to be a POC. When I’m talking about racism, I don’t mean the overt kind that isn’t socially acceptable, like racial slurs, denying job opportunities or outright violence towards people of color: I mean a more subtle kind of racism, one that is no less damaging or inappropriate. The kind that keeps people from taking a seat next to a POC on the bus because they are vaguely uncomfortable, or the kind that makes you cross the street from someone different from you at night so you don’t have to cross paths with them. My problem with RE5 is that it reinforces this kind of thinking. After a few days of playing the game, it can and will become engrained in some players’ minds that a black body is a dangerous one. If this translates into real life, even if the player knows it is silly to think a black person might be a zombie, or more particularly a dangerous threat, if the thought so much as enters a player’s mind after playing the game, then is that not fostering racism? Is that not participating in racist behaviour?

This may be difficult to imagine, but I know that for me, after playing a game like Tony Hawk or Skate for weeks on end I start to see things in the real world that look like I could trick off of or grind. I know that after playing horde in Gears of War for a couple of days it becomes second nature to see objects, real-world ones, as cover for a would-be gunfight. I feel like I learned the basic mechanics of driving a car from Grand Theft Auto III. I realize in the moment that it is silly, but it is a lens through which my world experience is filtered, simply because of the media that I choose to consume and experience most days: videogames. I imagine it is the same for many.

If I chose to purchase and play Resident Evil 5 and found that it functioned to make me, in any way, relate seeing a black person specifically as a threat (even on some very small level) I would be extremely disappointed and ashamed, to say the least. But if I am honest with myself, and I hope anyone that reads this article and also chooses to play RE5 is with themselves as well, could I truly make the claim that this would never happen to me if I played RE5? I don’t know. Maybe being aware of this potential issue I could avoid it, but how many people that will play RE5 without a critical eye will have this same experience and not be able to identify it? How will someone who is ambivalent (no, ‘ambivalent’ is not a synonym of ‘indifferent)’ towards black people digest the information, that black people are threats, after playing Resident Evil 5? How would a member of the black community feel playing White-as-Snow, Super-Buff Chris Redfield, killing skinny, starving, fully-dark African one after another, zombie or no? There is reinforced imagery and behaviour happening in doing this, even if the player is able to remind themselves that these Africans are simply zombies.

“Early on in the game a group of black Africans are seen beating a bag with a body inside. When Chris approaches them they stop, the bag is motionless and they stare menacingly at Chris. There is no suggestion that the men are infected.” - Wesley Yin-Poole, Videogamer.com

How would this imagery, for instance, be perceived by someone who has never played a RE game before? This is the first RE on this generation of consoles, so there is a strong likelihood that it will be attracting many new players who aren’t used to the tropes of the RE universe. This scene seems menacing, to be sure, and it sets a tone, but it’s so straightforward in its brutishness that it is problematic. In the beginning of Resident Evil 4 there is a similar tone-setting scene in which one of the two police officers that escort the player to the infected town is discovered impaled and burning in the middle of the village. The villagers are going about their work as usual, ignoring the burning body. This scene seems so horrific, and so outlandish that it’s clear that it’s meant to provoke scares, showing the player what these infected people are capable of.

But a beating in the street? It’s clear that these men couldn’t put Chris Redfield in a sack and knock him around. And there’s no sign that what they’re doing, publicly beating somebody, is any different from their normal routine when Chris arrives. It’s not a horror mechanic showing an extreme and unbelievable violence to shock the audience. It’s a mundane, contemporary kind of violence that actually happens in real life. Why choose to use this kind of imagery now, Capcom, when the game is set in an impoverished nation that is not predominately white? Why is violence so much more real, so much more normalized, now that Resident Evil is set in Africa?

This use of imagery, whether intended as racist or not, quite simply is racist, even if I don’t personally believe that Capcom desired to create a racist product. The imagery used is a message open to interpretation, and there is a strong likelihood that it will be interpreted in ways outside of the simple zombie vs. human dynamic, and I highly doubt that Capcom was blind to this possibility. Were they right in releasing Resident Evil 5? Was it necessary to set it in Africa, and contemporize the violence used? Did this chapter in the Resident Evil saga actually need its own blockbuster game to be told, or could it have simply been a sidenote in the lore, eliminating the need for the repeated use of imagery of violence against blacks?

More thoughts coming soon. Thanks for reading.

The Medium is the Message, Not the Opposite: Violence in Video Games

2009-01-18T22:16:00.007-08:00

“Violence is inherent in the medium, inseparable from the essential experience of playing games. Without competition and conflict resolved by violence, games wouldn’t be games: they’d be screensavers.” – Joe McNeilly, “2008: A Year to Dismember,” Gamesradar.com

To anyone who plays games on a regular basis, it is absolutely clear that there is no shortage of violence in video games. Often though, that violence is labeled as an integral part to the experience of gaming. Video games, to too many people, are equated with violence.

As a player whom many of my favorite games include no trace of violence, I take personal exception to this. To reduce the medium to such a base component is to do it an injustice. Many meaningful movies, for instance, have violence, but the violence is not showcased. Maybe this is another example of game development, in a misinformed fashion, mimicking the Hollywood machine. It seems that many developers choose to label their products as action games, if only because they exhibit a lack of horror, drama, or any other genre’s element in them (probably because they have no story to sustain any of these elements). An “action game” might as well be synonymous with “video game” for the average consumer, and from that it is not difficult to see how video games invite violence.

It takes an agency outside of simply consuming to see games for what they can, and should be: engaging entertainment. This lens does not necessitate violence.

If engaging film and literature can be created about the difficulties of the mundane, why can’t the same be said for videogames? Is that not what art is? What the industry strives for? Games, ones that aspire to be art, should aspire to teach about life. Real, regular life. Not space adventure, not treasure hunting, not bringing down colossi.

It just seems such a preposterous idea: waste a near limitless digital canvas, a video game, on the mundane. Or it must seem that way to most gamers, since there is very little in the way of reality-based games. Is it not arrogant of developers, to assume so little of their audience, or so much of their own fiction, that they think nothing of ignoring the real world? A world we, their customers, can all relate to?

The more violent a game becomes, the more it becomes removed from its audiences’ reality. Video game consumers do not gun down monsters, civilians or anything for that matter, in droves in their everyday lives. Nor do they want to, any more than an avid horror fan wants to kill unsuspecting teenagers, or a war film buff would like to be caught in a fire fight. These situations are escapism—limit testing, psychologically—but escapism nonetheless. For the average consumer, they represent nothing of what they would like their lives to be modeled after. For some, a world completely removed from reality is an attractive one, but that world could be one of fantasy, where gravity is skewed and the people are made out of yarn. I think there was something called Little Big Planet that did all right for itself. Not all games are violent, and violence absolutely does not need to be a staple of the industry.

Andrew Przybylski, researcher at the University of Rochester, recently published findings showing that players engage no more or no less with games that are overtly violent when compared to games that are not (you should really read about it). He notes:

“The message for game designers is that their resources are probably better spent designing games that will satisfy the psychological needs of players to feel competent, a feeling of autonomy and being connected to other players.” - Andrew Przybylski, Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, University of Rochester

All I can do is contrast this kind of reasonable, forward thinking to that of someone like Joe McNeilly, who says that:

“With Fallout 3’s VATS system, players target specific limbs in a semi-turn-based combat. Add in the Bloody Mess perk, in which limbs spontaneously explode off the body of a vanquished foe, and you have the Game of the Year.” – Joe McNeilly, “2008: A Year to Dismember,” Gamesradar.com

McNeilly is clearly missing the point. For whatever reason, he has actively ignored Fallout 3’s incredible achievements in exploration, storytelling and interaction, and is purporting the assumption that all of the game’s success stems from the fact that the player can dismember his enemies.

McNeilly then launches into a ludicrous diatribe, likening gamers’ alleged hunger for this dismemberment to the division between Right and Left wing politics, global warming, religious wars and the Patriot Act. What? It’s articles like McNeilly’s that lead me to believe that maybe the industry is sabotaging itself.

If we, as video game consumers, believe that there is nothing more than violence and strife in our worlds, real and digital, then that’s all there will ever be.

Some References:

Joe McNeilly, and his thoughts on how much you like to kill when you play, 2008, A Year to Dismember.

Andrew Przybylski, and his idea that people do not lust after blood in their gaming.

Joe Baca, California Congressman, and his proposed labeling for violent viodegames. This is a good one. Let me know what you think in the comments section.

AJ Glasser, editor for Kotaku.com, and her feelings towards videogame violence.

Please Read This

2009-01-07T15:18:00.003-08:00

If you care about where games are going as an art form.

I know it's long. Try anyway.

"The next decade or so is going to see the world of video games convulsed by battles between the moneymen and the artists; if the good guys win, or win enough of the time, we’re going to have a whole new art form." -John Lanchester, London Review of Books

...keep reading.

Proof of Concept: Narrative in Games

2009-01-06T20:08:00.005-08:00

I don’t see why there is a debate about whether or not story has a place in videogames. I think it’s very clear that most, if not all, people are compelled by narrative in games or otherwise. We have clear examples in film and literature, two fields dedicated solely to the craft of narrative (experimental film and literature aside, for now), but we can still find less obvious examples that show us how much more involved we become when a set of events becomes story.

Good games deserve a good narrative. Granted, a game doesn’t need a narrative to survive, or even be fun, but leaving it out is akin to, say, using nothing but stock art from the 8-bit-era. In both cases, things are going on onscreen, but none of it makes very much sense. Tetris’ art is about equivalent to its story.

But every game, even the simplest of designs, can benefit from story, if it is intelligently conceived. Jeff Ross, of Sony bend, has a quote on Joystiq:

“Since game mechanics can only reproduce the abstraction an experience, it is left to story/theme/narrative to help complete player immersion. Consider Frequency and Amplitude, two fun and very abstract music games that most people have never heard of. Simply changing the theme and adding a guitar-shaped controller transformed the experience completely. People were no longer pressing random buttons in sequence to music, they were rock stars. This is narrative at work.”[Joystiq 2008/12/22]

Maybe Tetris could have been even more with this kind of creative thought. The key is to have narrative that can amplify the gameplay, much like good art in a game. It seems though that all too often developers don’t consider this balance when creating their product. They choose to mimic the motions of a ‘riveting story’ so that they can use the claim as a bullet point on the back of their box. They don’t consider whether their story is serving their gameplay or vice versa. When developers recognize how to find this balance, their game succeeds. It is, however, often too difficult a question to answer whether a game concept calls for more or less narrative. The ‘narrative’ given in the example above, transforming Amplitude into Guitar Hero, is really more of a change of framing than an added narrative, but it is a valid narrative design choice nonetheless. It’s clear how that small shift can affect sales, at least.

Tom Gaubatz, producer for publisher Mastiff, says of story in games that:

“It depends completely on the genre and the title. That said, a huge part of our concept of games is still inherited from early arcade games: stimulate the player just enough to make him put in another quarter. Games are still, in most cases, very much about short-term rewards. Regardless of the quality of the story, if the gameplay doesn't deliver regular challenges and psychological rewards, people won't play it.”[Joystiq, 2008/12/22]

But what about games that have a balance that favors narrative over gameplay? Look at the Ace Attorney series. It is difficult to argue that they are more game than novel, but they are popular among a hardcore gaming crowd nonetheless. Capcom has attempted, and largely succeeded, in delivering those same challenges and psychological thrills that would normally come from gameplay through their storytelling. The player must be smart enough and, more importantly in this case, absolutely engaged in the minutia of the story to complete the game. Knowing the story is being good at the game.

A large part of the resistance to story in games seems to be simple misunderstanding. Have a look at the following quote by Ben Mattes, producer of the newest Prince of Persia:

“As I mentioned earlier, I think we could have done a better job in giving more challenge to those gamers who play a game to Accomplish and Achieve, rather then Experience. We talked a lot about it during development (multiple difficulty settings, etc) but could not come up with a way to modify all aspects of the game (combat, acrobatics, trap difficulty) in a graceful and interesting way.”[IGN, Prince of Persia Afterthoughts]

Mattes, here, is making the mistaken assumption that players that want to Achieve and those who want to Experience are mutually exclusive. He is also asserting that games cannot offer both at once. By attempting to separate the desires of what may very well be the same buyer, one who wants to both Experience and Achieve in their gaming, the team created a product that did little in the way of grabbing peoples’ attention (beautiful art style aside).

It seems that many developers are pre-disposed against including story in their games, if only for the simple reason that it is difficult:

“Telling stories in games is hard. Consider that a game is an 8-24 hour experience. When did you see an interesting and compelling 8-24 hour movie last? Games have to find their own way of telling stories, instead of relying on old methods from other mediums. The problem is that movies are so standard it's a hard thing to change.”[Ulf Andersson, GRIN co-founder and Bionic Commando game director, Joystiq 2008/12/23]

Why is Hollywood so many developers’ first choice for inspiration? Ulf is right, in a way: why is the short and intense method of storytelling that is a movie taking the helm for a medium that does indeed have a minimum of ten or more hours worth of content? It seems clear that the pacing in a movie would never match that of the pacing in a game. Nobody enjoys filler levels in a movie-licensed game; but it’s no wonder, they’re filler, and without them the game would only be as long as the movie it is attempting to re-create, which would be far too short for what gamers are used to in this generation.

It is surprising that more developers haven’t started looking for other methods of telling their stories. Good ideas for pacing and tension wouldn’t be hard to find. Maybe they could turn on their televisions and realize that shows like Lost, Dexter, House, any television drama, really, have perfected, to an art, the idea of drawing out a story. Granted, Lost might have alienated a lot of its viewership with a convoluted plot, but it had the idea of small, focused stories inside a larger narrative absolutely right, which is something more games, especially ones that are seeking to be called story-based, should look to include. How many life stories can you find, should you choose, on the computers in Fallout 3? Enough for a few hours of good reading, certainly, and it all gets counted towards “gameplay length” because the disc is still spinning in your console. Tricky.

Regardless of how developers choose to justify their aversion to story, they can’t avoid that people look for it in nearly all aspects of their lives. Sports fans follow their favorite teams, and players, and usually know the ups and downs of any given career. That investment adds to the excitement. You can see peoples’ personal investment in soap operas, in professional wrestling, racing, reality television—in almost all aspects of life, recreational or otherwise. If there’s a plot, natural or conceived, there’s a reason to follow it.

Dear Wired Magazine,

2008-12-20T22:48:00.006-08:00

I would love it if you were to stop creating asinine lists for their own sake. I’m just going to start with then “10 Most Disappointing Games of 2008” gem you dropped on December 12^th. Maybe we can branch out and discuss some others later on.

What really gets me about this latest list, Wired, is that six of the ten games on it are brand new IPs. Did you guys realize that when you were writing it? That you’ve gone out of your way to compile a list that nay-says new ideas? I’m sure you’ve gotten plenty of hate mail about that already though, so I won’t start.

What I want to look at here is the number of games you completely sidestepped that were truly disappointing. By that I mean games, and developers, that really didn’t accomplish anything with their new titles. Teams that played it safe and made exactly what we were expecting. Do you not find that disappointing? Or do you crave the predictability that populates all your “Ten Best” lists of games for 2008? Let’s have a look.

I noticed that both Gears of War 2 and Fable 2 made your top ten best 360 games of ’08. Really? Two of the most derivative games released this year and that’s your best? That’s not to say that Epic didn’t get it right the first time around, and that the Gears formula isn’t a solid one; but that’s all it is: a formula. We all knew, going in, what was going to happen, that there would be no end of locust, no end of the manly quips from Marcus and co. and that there would be no real ending to the game because it was the second chapter in a trilogy. There was maybe, maybe, one fresh moment in that whole game, and it wasn’t even playable.

And Fable 2? It’s another case of the money-safe copy-paste business doctrine. You skewer games like Dead Space and Mirror’s Edge for not ascending the golden peaks of your overly-imaginative expectations, but when a game reproduces itself, seemingly asexually, and slaps a “2” on the end of its name you call it a top game of the year. What?

If you’re going to take the time to list this stuff, negative things like disappointing games, why not call out some developers that have either been ignoring their fanbase, or that have burrowed so far into their niche that can no longer remember what an original game looks like?

I think I’ll try my hand at this thing. This is what I think a “Disappointing games of 2008” list looks like:

Rock Band 2: I love you, Harmonix, but this glorified track pack, released just in time to defer a few sales away from Guitar Hero World Tour, was never worth sixty dollars. Good job on the new peripherals though, I guess.

Guitar Hero World Tour: This game was a year behind the first Rock Band in almost every way. It’s as though Neversoft wasn’t allowed to play the competition’s game to get a good idea of how to copy it. They just imagined what the game was like based off of what all their friends who were playing it said about it. They got it so wrong Harmonix actually got away with RB2, because it least it wasn’t a step backwards.

Call of Duty: World at War: I find it unbelievable that no major publication has called this game out. This premise, this gameplay, this entire franchise, was old news in 2006. We’re almost into 2009 and Activision has actually gone back in time to deliver us more WW2 games we never wanted. This, like Guitar Hero (which Activision also owns), has taken a giant step backwards from its last iteration. Everything about this game is disappointing, because it’s just too predictable and so, so safe from a development standpoint. It’s got low cost because it recycles most of its resources from Call of Duty 4, no thought needed to be put into the story, because we all know how WW2 ends (especially when it’s told from the Allied side), and finally, the game has a built in consumer base. Everyone who only buys one shooter game a year is just going to buy the new version of the one they bought last year. Congratulations Activision, you’ve successfully tricked your customers. Again.

Sonic Unleashed: This game wasn’t disappointing for the reasons you’d think. It wasn’t because being a were-hog was dumb. It wasn’t because Sega almost had it this time. It was just because it got made in the first place. It’s amazing that Sonic keeps coming back for more punishment. It’s clear that gamers don’t want him anymore. Not the way Sega seems intent on presenting him (too-cool-for-school 80’s inspired teenager with too many “anthropomorphic neon friends”[Ben Crawshaw]). And that really is what’s mind-boggling about the Sonic franchise. The fans have told Sega, in no uncertain terms, what they want from a Sonic game. They want to go fast, and to go fast in 2D. The fans are actually asking Sega to produce a very simple game and have promised to buy it up in droves if they ever do make it. But, for whatever reason, Sega has flat-out refused to do this. They’ve been refusing for almost ten years. If they want to starve themselves out, I think it’s time we let them. We don’t need to see Sonic get lashed any further.

Gears of War 2: I liked Gears 2, I did. But, again, it was so safe and cookie-cutter that it really has no place calling itself one of the best games of 2008. Maybe one of the best games of 2006 but, oh yeah, that’s when the original Gears was released. Whoops.

Horde mode was cool, but I’m willing to bet it took all of a week to produce, test and certify. It was a tack-on-addition that turned out to be a lot of fun in its simplicity, not an award-winning effort.

Fable 2: Same gameplay, same “expressions” with no real interactions, same Molyneux super-hype. Sorry friends, good vs. evil just doesn’t cut it as far as an “immersive, nuanced canvas”(Earnest Cavalli, Wired) goes. Morality has grey areas, Fable does not. The dog and the crumb trail were neat ideas, but between Dogmeat and Isaac Clarke’s onboard nav-computer I think you’ve been beat.

Prince of Persia on the Nintendo DS

2008-12-16T14:44:00.001-08:00

I like it. I don’t know what these guys are talking about. So long as I can keep Prince wall-running and somersaulting at a respectable flow, I’m good. And I can, so I am. An option for D-pad controls in tandem with the touch screen might have been nice, but the touch controls work more than well enough.

The game is cool for what it is. I don’t see what there is to 6.8 about (yes, I just turned a review score into a verb). It plays like classic prince. Not Sands of Time. The original original. The combat may be a bit easy, but we’re all here for the sweet Jackie Chan wall jumps and avoiding spike pits, aren’t we?

Oh, and Matt? You may want to think about sprinkling a bit of objectivity into your reviews now and then. You “want[ing] to punch this version of Prince in the face” because of the art style doesn’t tell anyone if this game is worth their money. It might tell them you’re overly judgmental when it comes to small details and that you might award games lower scores than they probably deserve, but hey—maybe that’s what you’re going for.

Why is the new Prince of Persia so bad, yet still so much fun?

2008-12-15T22:02:00.000-08:00

It really, really has been bothering me. I picked up PoP for the 360 the day it came out, set aside everything else I was playing at the time (sorry, Fallout, Dead Space, etc.) and dug into the Prince’s latest endeavour.

It was good, I guess. It felt different, but enough like last generation’s trilogy that I was happy to play it. But something was off. It wasn’t quite, and still quite isn’t, a game in the purest sense.

Now I’ll be the first to defend casual games and gaming, not because I particularly care for it, but because I think that the argument that casual games are ruining the market it moot. It’s happening: games as a medium are changing, get over it.

But here, in Ubisoft Montreal's very loose approximation of Persia, magic and alchemy and all, it doesn’t feel like I’m really playing much of anything. The new Prince is, more of than I would like to admit, a glorified, ten-hour quick-time event. And on top of that, it’s not even a very well-executed one.

Not the game as a whole, just the crummy your-timing-better-be-perfect sequences. Tell me, Ubisoft, why you would design a world that is so simple to use, but then make the rules of play inconsistent? Why is it that the B button (extend your run) and the Y button (get help from your companion, Elika) are openly encouraged to be mashed by the player to ensure success, while pressing the A button more than once in almost any scenario results in Prince taking a huge-goddamn-leap into open space?

Let me explain: there are colored plates throughout the world that allow Elika to use her powers to get Prince somewhere he couldn’t get on his own. To use them, you just press Y while Prince is on one. If, however, the plate happens to be on a wall, which is not uncommon, you have to press the Y button to use the plate before Prince falls to his death. The game doesn’t mind if you mash Y long before or long after using the plate—it won’t mess anything up. This applies to the use of the B button too, to grab rings and other things in the world that will help Prince get around. Mash the button and you’ll make sure Prince uses it. No special timing required.

Here’s the rub. The A button? You better not dick around. Let’s say you’re pressing the A button to get Prince to run up a wall, at the top of which he will grab the ledge. You better not be accustomed, from every other scenario in the game, to mashing buttons because if you were to press A, say, twice in this situation, it would lead to Prince running up the wall as normal, waiting to end of his animation, and then leaping backwards off of that wall into whatever oblivion you just avoided earlier. Why do A button commands queue while no other ones do?

While I’m griping about those plates, I have another big question. What is the deal with those goddamn plates? They just dilute the gameplay in every way. If they’re not sucking the fun out of the acrobatics (you know, the point of PoP) by flying you to the top of a huge and would-have-been-fun-to-scale-tower, they’re frustrating the living crap out of you by making you do these weird, Sonic-the-Hedgehog-like running sections. And they’re long. And if you bump into anything while running forward at an uncontrolled speed you go right back to the start. Oh, and Prince can’t move left and right too fast while in this running mode, so you better have a good memory for trial and error. Why would you use these, Ubisoft? Elika’s “powers” (flight, slingshotting, super-wall-running) are supposed to help Prince, and they do in a real sense, but they don’t help the game. They get him somewhere minus all the fun of figuring out how to get there yourself.

I do have praise for it though, really. The story-telling is marvellous. Maybe not the story itself, but the manner in which it’s told is quite ingenious. Ninety percent of PoP’s story is told through conversations with your partner Elika. What’s beautiful about this is that you can choose to never talk to her. If you’re the action-oriented gamer with no care for the motives behind your character’s actions, you’re free to be that player. If you’re like me, and you lap up any tiny droplet of story, you have hundreds of story and character enhancing dialogues to look forward to. It caters so well to two completely opposing types of players. Way to be, Ubisoft.

Oh yeah, the game is beautiful too, but you can look at some screens instead of reading about that.

In the end though, I’m just left a bit confused. On paper, I really don’t like this game. In play, it’s totally got me by the nose. I probably won’t play anything else until it’s done. It's still Prince.