A Grand Experiment in Small Package

In more honest self-reflective moments, mainly ones that are not dedicated to aggrandizing my tastes and wondering why the rest of the world doesn’t think the way I do, I wonder why I love bigness so much. A bit of back-pedalling might be necessary for the sake of clarity. By “bigness” I have come to mean in my head “ambition.” Even when a work of art is dreadful, I will give no end of credit to its creator if they present something utterly personal and ambitious. Examples are too numerous to cite here, but doubtless many works spring immediately to mind. What I figured out is that I am a person obsessed with “value” as a false but attractive concept to judge a work of art on. How big is this painting? How many brush strokes, how big a canvass do I get for my money or time? How long is this song I’m paying for? Et cetera.

Another side of me just plain adores wildly experimental and eccentric work. The polite word for this is “insanity.” Once again, this is driven, at its most basic and emotional level, by a desire for “value.” Whatever that word entails. Experimentalism is grander in many ways that delivering something in a straightforward fashion. It puts up a wall, gives you more incentive to go back, to see just what the artist or designer was thinking when they delivered that deliberately crazy element. Or maybe you fixate on tiny details that are so minuscule the artist would scoff at any of your complicated readings of how they fit the theme and tone of the work. Pretentious things like that occupy more time, give more for my restless and wayward mind to focus on. Hence, a greater perceived “value.”

A blog being the perfect place to air my self-indulgent plans to an uncaring world, I have decided to make this page the platform for my mad genius experiments. Realize I use the word genius ironically, and yes, that makes me even more arrogant and “self-knowing” using it in that way. I don’t truly care too much.

After so much digression in the beginning, I’m sure that most of the readers have quit and my hard-won bond with them has been shattered into a million metaphorical pieces. Since pointing out digression is the most vile form of digression there is, I’ll start another paragraph presently.

My plan is to buy only downloadable games, small in scope, price, and length, for an entire year. For me this specifically means iPhone games, indie and other small games for my iMac and “downstairs” PC, and WiiWare and PSN games. I’ll hopefully make this experiment an anchor of my further blog posts, but don’t count on it. What really matters is that this project will give me a chance to play all kinds of games that have come from minds that aren’t bending to the will of the mass market, that may or may not be released by giant publishers but that all carry a stamp of “this game is a singular work.” Now, I am not in any way saying that there are fewer “big” games that are unique. Actually, I am. But I acknowledge that I will miss out on some wonders, some landmarks, perhaps even some “essential” games released in the next twelve months. This for me is a sacrifice I am more than willing to make.

One of the biggest bright sides is that I will be able to buy far more games than usual, and instead of playing single games for long periods of time, will be able to absorb more in a shorter space of time. This is not inherently “better” but it will be a change of pace after playing Final Fantasy XIII for thirty-five glorious hours in a row before I grew–not tired of it, for I think the game is a masterwork of streamlined game design (just dragged down by the story, but that’s another blog post)– but having the feeling of being satisfied before it was over. That has not been a problem with the zippy and brash Scott Pilgrim vs. the World: The Game, which I have had the great pleasure of playing through a few times lately.

This is just an opportunity to extend my tastes outward, rather than be stuck in an inward cycle of the same third-person action games and JRPGs that I normally play. It will open my eyes to what lies outside the norm, and will generate some entertaining reading for you out there. Thank you for reading, and good night to all, and merry very early Christmas.

Shallower Field: Game Reviews

Engaging in conversations about–well, pretty much anything of substance (and occasionally without substance) –is one of my favourite pastimes. Certain topics appeal to me more than others, as with everyone. Math and the more theoretical sciences are, to me, essential subjects to understand in order to form a proper empirical basis for how you perceive and inhabit your own perspective on the world. However, they are just impossible to make good conversations with, since the only people interested in talking about them are the experts, and they likely have little interest in talking to a lowly human being such as myself. With all of that said, I respect scientists and mathematicians for their innumerable contributions to the mechanical belly of our industrialized information society.

This leads me to reflect that the most fascinating conversations I have had are generally about subjects about which I know very little compared to the person I am speaking to or, most often, simply listening to. I am a sponge for information and love to engage in debates over finer points of detail, whether these finer points are contained in the “real” world or in fiction. In fact, people are far less reluctant to delve deeply into the substrata of issues where the nitty-gritty meets the broad idea when the topic is a fictional account. One particular friend of mine makes it a habit to annoy me in the most ingenuous way possible: he says things that I hold to be completely ridiculous, and then forces me to reevaluate my stance, which is generally against whatever he just said. On the rare occasions where we agree completely, I tend to get bored and fall into a gentle ennui, neither zoning out completely nor getting animated the way I do when I disagree completely.

This brings up the issue at hand: game “criticism,” which, as it stands presently, is limited almost exclusively to reviews and features. Mainline game journalists, when reflecting upon their reviews in interviews and podcasts, tend to get bogged down in the responses they got to the reviews and, most infuriatingly of all, in the entirely pointless and pedantic issue of how scoring systems work. These insipid scoring systems, while helpful as buying guides for clueless parents trying to get their son or daughter a proper Christmas present, as well as functioning quite well as fodder for incessant fanboy chattering over the relative merits of a game that scored “an 8.9″ rather than a “full 9.0,”are completely unnecessary and feed the impression to outsiders that games are little more than gadgets. After all, one observes that in every major broad-based (i.e. not specific to gaming) publication, all news about games is lumped into the “Technology” section. This is both unfortunate in being confusing–if games are to be amalgamated into any section, it should be Movies–and in being completely inaccurate. Games, while at their most literal and basic level composed of ones and zeroes and circuit boards that qualify as gadgetry, are far more than the simply sum of their technical parts.

The fundamental issue that most gamers have with outsiders is that people who do not play the same kinds of games that they do–the shooters, the RPGs, etc.–don’t take games “seriously.” One probable cause of at least some of this shared sentiment is that games are often treated by gamers themselves as objects to be enjoyed as being “cool” and “beautiful” and not as serious works that deserve to be taken seriously and contemplated on anything more than the most superficial of levels. When a friend walks up to me and talks about recent games that he played strictly in terms of the pure visceral thrills of killing and the adrenaline of competition, I am often guilty of encouraging this. I am completely at fault for not taking most games very seriously. Or worse, I take games seriously for the wrong reasons and end up being blindly devoted to some idea of what that game is. This has, I am sure, exasperated one or more of my friends at any given time. I am simply encouraging those who dedicate significant time and, more importantly, significant thought to the games they play, to consider thinking about a game on more than just the surface level.

That surface level is comprised of the mechanical jigsaw puzzle of numerical nonsense that every game is comprised of. When reviewers discuss a game, they tend to discuss what a game’s parts are, and not what the game is, what the game is trying to say, or even how successful it is. Nearly every review of Atlus’ Contact, for instance, focuses almost entirely upon the “boring” battle system, the simple graphics, and the bizarre plot. These are just the pieces to the puzzle, and I will be the first to admit that the game’s battle system is less than fully dynamic and that the graphics are simple and the plot and atmosphere are–to put it mildly–off-kilter.

But where most game critics would leave the conversation right there, give the game a 7.5, and move onto the next game, I believe that the discussion should take place over how these elements fit together into a cohesive whole. Contact’s brilliance lies in the execution of an idea. It is a well-constructed and often hilarious satire of the Japanese RPG that subverts all of the tropes of that genre and infuses into them a story and an atmosphere that contain both intriguing surrealist elements and a fairly touching and simple story that features not a single element that is both cliché and used in an uninteresting way. Everything fits together so seamlessly that you can wile away countless hours in the game just acting out the possibilities of the only morality system in a game that does not annoy me to death.

More generally, and in a more hopeful key, I just want to challenge all of those who talk about games–which includes myself–to change the way they think about the medium. To approach a game and not just stop after finishing it and ascribe one-word summaries of whether you liked it or not. If we as gamers want to earn respect for what we do, we have to begin treating our hobby with more gravity. Not necessarily turn into art critics who wear funny hats and condemn lowbrow entertainment. Rather, we should expand the conversations we are already having, and make it known that they are going on. That’s what I am going to strive for, and I hope at least a few people will follow my lead.

Final Fantasy Versus XIII Screenshots Evoke Fallout

Above, you can see (hopefully quite clearly) a pair of interesting and particularly revealing scans released in Famitsu for Final Fantasy Versus XIII. Sure, they feature nothing of not in terms of how the game systems–combat and exploration and how they balance and so forth–but reveal volumes about the eventual look and texture of the game’s visuals, which appear to take a far more sombre and even semi-realistic tone. The abandoned, decaying gas station by the side of the road is pure Fallout, with its Old West meets Mad Max aesthetic. I do believe, however, that even these two new screenshots show more visual beauty and power than the entirety of Fallout 3. Why is that, I wonder? I suppose I have reasonable confidence that the game will not be breaking every few minutes with gloriously obvious glitches and crash bugs. The other major reason is the general feeling, which is less the harsh, unforgiving and cold look of that Western RPG and substitutes a feeling of regret, even sadness, to the field. I know others will moan about my criticisms of Fallout 3, but, in truth, I think that that was a brilliant game suffocated by Bethesda’s botching of the technical and narrative aspects of it. Just my two cents.

Not really much else to speak of, beyond the fact that you should seek out the translations of the interview, which are less revealing than the images themselves but give more context and raw data to it.

Sony E3 Conference: Just Walking Through the Motions

Sony did not deliver the great E3 of last year, when Uncharted 2: Among Thieves delivered the thrills, Final Fantasy XIV delivered the surprise, and there were all kinds of new shiny games to talk about. Instead, they staged a show completely removed from the last. There were some disappointing showings, bizarre pacing problems, and a few revelatory moments of joy that crossed console divides to become universally appealing. While not as strong as games in shows past, this year brought some worthy sequels and one shock announcement that has the entire PlayStation audience in a joyous delirium. Just as in the Nintendo article, three games stand out to be the most indicative of the PS3 and PSP’s direction in general.

Sorcery:

Sorcery is one of the pleasant surprises of this year’s show. In essence, it is a Harry Potter game in everything but name that accomplishes some excellent integration of the new Move controller. During the demo in the press conference, plenty of elements were shown to indicate that the Move is finally being put to some unique use. The eerily accurate arm tracking and its translation to aiming controls for offensive spells of many kinds proved the standout, as did the moment when the protagonist consumed a potion in direct comparison with the actions of the person playing. And this was not, thankfully, another sports demo–though we did get one of those as well, but a somewhat original title with no previous ties to another franchise. As a matter of fact it was one of the only games at the Sony conference to be original on any level.

This is a broader issue with the whole show, rather than one limited to the Sony side of the floor. Nintendo, Microsoft, and Sony all failed to deliver much in the way of games that were not sequels of some kind, and many of the new games discussed throughout were sequels to games released only one or two years ago. Assassin’s Creed, Call of Duty, Halo, and others are all getting new entries, and the first two had games released just last year. It has become endemic to all corners of the industry, even to Sony, which began this generation by pushing mainly new properties (Uncharted, inFamous, Resistance, etc.). Those failed to sell phenomenally, so here we are back again recycling ancient concepts in slightly newer shells for the fourth or fifth time. I have no issue with good sequels, but the entire industry is beginning to look dusty at this point.

What was the subject of this section again? Oh, yes. Sorcery. At any rate, the game appears to be a fantastic showcase for Move controls. Whether the game adds up to much more than that is a matter to be settled when it hits stores.

Portal 2:

Logorific

Certain developers have been vocal concerning certain hardware systems this generation, and have suddenly retracted those statements, foot planted firmly in mouth. First, Valve stops leaving all of their work off the Mac, then they pull a lightning-quick turn and Portal 2 is set to land on the PS3. Beyond that, the game appears to feature some features exclusive to the PS3, and will land at the same time without having to be squeezed through EA’s port team as The Orange Box was a few years ago.

As could be expected, the game looks to retain the same style, heart, and play style that made the original one of the best games in the year it was released in. Another, possibly more friendly AI with a British accent has joined your cause, and the one that you trashed in the last game has woken up and revived the facility, lacing it with ever more devious traps and snares. At this point, much of the game is still shrouded in mystery. Its look is still roughly the same, just with more added onto the gloriously sterile shell of the first. Vegetation has overrun the testing centre, leading to a new organic lushness that enriches the look of the game considerably.

New additions to the actual solving of the puzzles include deflecting lenses, and strips of blue and orange paint that cause you to jump higher and run faster, respectively. The iconic portal gun returns, of course, or else the title of the game would be far less literal and appropriate. There is almost no doubt that Valve will not do anything less than a fantastic job, as the record of their work approximates flawlessness. Now that it will arrive on my console of choice, it has become one of if not my most anticipated game shown at E3.

Twisted Metal:

Twisted Metal

Sony’s game to end the show was another surprising reversal, this time for David Jaffe, who has frequently (and untruthfully) denied his involvement in a new Twisted Metal project over the past few years. Ultimately, this was an announcement with little immediate impact on me personally. I was never a PlayStation or PS2 owner, and have never played a Twisted Metal game. However, I think that the basic car combat concept is one far too little explored in this era. Actually, I have very little to say about this game, except that it has a nicely black sense of humour and I have read that it has controls that do not mesh with those of other, more conventional racing games. Perhaps that is a good thing, though I imagine I will have some difficulty acclimatizing to the controls.

Nintendo Conference: Everything Old, Everything New

Nintendo has amassed a certain reputation for endlessly going back to the same wells that brought them their initial financial fortunes in the 1980′s. Nothing has changed with this year’s E3. All of the major games that were announced or shown are, in some way or another, connected strongly to past successes, whether recent or further back. Nevertheless, the company has shown before that it can take ideas the company has honed down to a perfection and rebuild them into something that–even considering how old the ideas are–is still worth playing and loving. Besides the release of the 3DS, Nintendo’s focus was almost entirely on games, rather than the peripherals that tended to dominate the past few years. There was no Balance Board, no Motion Plus, no mention of the nebulous and puzzling Vitality Sensor heart-rate monitor announced last year and, for better or worse, swiftly forgotten. Because the main draw of the 3DS, namely its stereoscopic 3D effects, are inaccessible to those like me who did not get a press invitation to the conference, the focus of this article will be what I feel are the three games that demonstrated most fully what Nintendo’s ambitions and intentions were for this year’s show.

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword

Skyward Sword

Degas, Cézanne, and Manet are some of my personal favourite artists. Their Impressionist style, and its impact on the fascinating drawing style present in the new Zelda game, are covered eloquently and succinctly in an article in Zelda Universe to be found here. I encourage you to read it, and gain perhaps a new appreciation for the work that Aonuma, Miyamoto, and their team of digital artists are attempting here.

Limitations are often what breed the most innovation. Acknowledging that the Wii’s capacity for reproducing realist graphics that can compare with the competitions’ are slim to none, Nintendo has gone for a style that is simpler, bolder, and far more pleasing than most anything put forth by any game company at this year’s show. The soft, vaguely-defined outlines, the bold green strokes that define the grass on the ground, the sketchy, airy look of the clouds so prominently featured in the trailer’s closing moments. Impressionists were also capable of producing works of melancholy and sheer darkness, and some of that menace is demonstrated in the first piece of art released for the game last year.

It’s all beautiful and painterly, but let us not dwell on such superficial matters. After all, even if frames from the game could hang in the Museum of Modern Art, you can’t hook up a controller to a painting hanging on a wall and gain much enjoyment out of it. Not to mention that that would likely be frowned upon by the resident curators.

What truly astonished me was the depth to which Nintendo was willing to go in integrating its Motion Plus technology into the game. Far from the engaging but ultimately pointless addition of motion controls to Twilight Princess, Skyward Sword looks to take the motion plunge, integrating the unique functions of the Motion Plus into every aspect of the game. Sword combat was always imagined to be the perfect use for the Wii Remote from the beginning, and some games such as Red Steel 2 have recently raised expectations in this regard. What Nintendo wants to do with Link’s sword in this game even surpasses that title, however. Diagonal, vertical, and horizontal slashes, as well as horizontal and vertical spin attacks (the latter of which is astonishing to look at the first time) are not just pointless details but tactical necessities. Enemies look to have been given better intelligence, so that they can to some degree anticipate your actions and block blows, requiring a new level of strategy for every encounter.

Beyond the basic combat, the first-person aiming system looks to be more refined, with control over how powerful your arrows are fired via the Nunchuk. While this is more or less lifted directly from Wii Sports Resort, it is welcome nonetheless. The slingshot appears to lack that fine control, but it is usually used infrequently and then promptly discarded, so it should be no great loss. A new addition to Link’s arsenal, a strange beetle that is something of a cross between the (underused) hawk from Twilight Princess with the Hookshot of older Zelda games. It can fly with precision using Motion Plus, pick up and carry bombs and drop them on enemies or obstacles, or even just to scout out the area.

Another addition is a dashing ability, allowing Link to sprint over short distances to gain more momentum for rope jumps or to escape from enemies.

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword is now my most anticipated game of next year. It looks to break from some of the confines of the Zelda formula perfected in the last Wii game, and present something at least partially new in substance, and completely original in style.

Kirby’s Epic Yarn

Kirby's Epic Yarn

Kirby has always represented a piece of the game industry that breaks from convention. With his ability to float above most obstacles, cruise effortlessly through the toughest foes, and offer a cute, happy face whatever the time of day, Kirby is among the most endearing of game characters. His games are more endearing still, though often rooted in similar game designs. Kirby’s Epic Yarn accomplishes a wild turnaround in both aesthetic and interactive terms, chucking much of the game-play formula from previous games and adopting a homespun fabric look to match its title.

Never afraid to eschew realism in the first place, it takes some extra work to make Kirby games look less realistic than they already are. Making everything out of cloth is a good start. Stripping the insides out of all the characters, leaving them as stringy outlines is a knockout punch. Curious effects like characters pulling zippers to open up the environment, yanking on buttons to stretch the background and bulging out of 2D castles like marbles in a child’s jean pockets add to the overwhelmingly sugary charm of the game’s look. In fact, most of my fascination with the game has to do with this style, which appears to be indispensable, the foundation for all the mechanical innovations present here.

Death has apparently been completely removed from the game. Some may bemoan the change as a cheapening the rewards and reducing the intensity of the experience. I agree with both of those, but offer this in return. Kirby’s games have never been more pulse-pounding than a trip to a beach out of shark season, and if the new incentives for doing well are strong enough, not being able to die won’t matter. When you are hit, instead of losing health, you lose collectible items, and any rewards that you might have bought with them, the exact nature of which is unclear.

Two-player cooperative play has been added for this game as well, allowing for more New Super Mario Bros. Wii style manic antics. You can chuck your friends around, being either a help or a nuisance, depending on the situation. Using his own yarn body as a whiplike arm, Kirby dishes out pain with throws and slams. Transformations are still included, but are limited to contextual actions like running (where you turn into a car) and hovering (transforming Kirby into a parachute). While this does not show much possibility for the more complex moves seen in Kirby Super Star, it will likely offer a totally unique way to play a Kirby game, much as Canvas Curse did on the DS.

Donkey Kong Country Returns

DKC Returns

Now the scene darkens. Quite literally. Another graphically brilliant overhaul of a classic franchise, Donkey Kong Country Returns looks to be a challenging and enjoyable platform game. Nonetheless, it is a disappointment to see that Retro Studios has evidently been enlisted as Nintendo’s retread artists, putting some new life into gasping old concepts. However, there is nothing like the revolutionary brilliance of the Metroid Prime series on display, at least not in the materials released so far. I had hoped Nintendo would give Retro the chance to explore their own ideas for once, and perhaps the people who left the studios left precisely because of that.

Some of my disappointment comes from my reaction to the previous Country games. Namely, I thought that they were average to fairly-good platform games that looked great in their day but whose magic never wore off on me the same way that other SNES games did. Silhouette levels played against a stark jungle sunset aside, not much of the trailer was particularly memorable. Added to the mix is a cooperative play mode, but all in all this was the least exciting announcement in the Nintendo Press Conference short of Wii Party or Mario Sports Mix. It was surprising, yes. But underneath all my hopes for this game’s eventual greatness, I harbour a suspicion that Retro’s best talents have been shelved for this game, whose very title evokes just how unoriginal it all is.

(Spoilers Ahead!) Analysis of Metal Gear Solid 4

MGS4 Box

Introduction:

Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots belongs to a singular franchise of video games. Identified as the birth of the stealth strain of the action game genre, like all other franchises, it came from humble beginnings. As it stands, however, the Metal Gear franchise is one of the most widely followed and influential–not to mention lucrative–collections of games. That alone does not make it remarkable. Instead, that only reflects how noticeably different these games are, and how they have attracted the attention of the world not by being lightweight, or “fun” in the strictest sense, or straightforward, but by daring to take bold risks and implementing radical innovations in the formula, particularly in the current subject.

This willingness to risk itself and attempt to be more is part of the ambitions and–admittedly–the obsessions, positive and negative, of its creator. Hideo Kojima is almost unique in mainstream games in that he singlehandedly writes, directs, and exerts exclusive creative control over the whole of the work. While his persona exudes cool and calmness, his work is shivering with melodramatic dialogue, frenetic action, and odds escalated to such heights the gods of Olympus might pause before going all-in. Most obvious in his games is his fascination with Hollywood movies, particularly the classic spaghetti Westerns of mid-20th century. Clint Eastwood’s characters in any of his films would likely feel right at home as one of Snake’s cohorts, sheen of modern technology and flash notwithstanding.

Romance, shootouts, lengthy, talky stand-offs before said shootouts. All of it is here and more. Kojima merges these American influences with an overall visual style and splash that is purely Japanese. In Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots, these two methods, worlds apart, are amalgamated into a potent combination, dealing bombastic, overblown action and dense plotting rarely seen in this medium. It is for that reason that I am mesmerized by the cutscenes, without even having to stifle the potential laughs to be had from them.

Plot:

“Convoluted” is generally a term that carries a negative connotation when applied to plots. To apply this adjective to MGS4 is a gross understatement. Tangled and jumbled, confused and often downright bizarre, the plot–the current chaotic state of which is largely due to its predecessor MGS2–is forced to enrol in gymnastics. Writhing, twisting, and squeezing desperately, trying to reach comprehension, the story is largely silly and overblown, not to mention so top-heavy with exposition you fear the game will crash because the script takes up too much space. Nonetheless, no matter how complicated the path it took to get to where it ends up, it ends up in being totally satisfying.  I would not even consider the satisfaction and entertainment I glean from it to be guilty pleasure. To the contrary, I attribute the entertainment to the sheer joy of seeing this dense beast of a plot careen dangerously out of control–only to save itself by reaching into that place occupied in music by the bands Queen and Muse. Bombast. Pompous, self-important speeches, when delivered as they are in this game, are compelling. It may be the shroud of the fantastic production values covering my eyes, but I think that there is merit to this type of story. However, it would not be so if not for the cracks in the dour, serious, even solemn face the game assumes for itself.

In-jokes, visual gags and monkeys smoking cigarettes and drinking cola (and later belching with gusto) show you that, despite how pretentious and silly it can be, the game ultimately has a healthy and redeeming sense of humour about itself. These “windows” of comic craziness, which often break the fourth wall, have led me to believe that the entire enterprise is an oblique satire. Satire is delicate and difficult at the best of times. One would think that, saddled to such a crazy, speeding train of a game, it would collapse on top of itself. Yet all the hot air coming from the mountains of dialogue must be inflating it to the extent that it can survive.

Interactivity and Narrative:

Games today strive to become more and more immersive and engross you into the world they present. MGS4 goes about this as well, and in a way that is not often taken. Contrasted with the completely seamless sublimation of narrative into interactivity found in the Half-Life series, where you are firmly fixed in the viewpoint of a silent protagonist, this is a game that frequently tears you away from the controls and lets the story play out. Detractors often decry this technique–heavy on talking and cutscenes–as detrimental to the value of the game. Devoted fans point out that these cutscenes are among the best in the industry (at least some of them) and that the interactive portions are so strong that they mask any flaws.

My own views fall, predictably, between the two extremes. My sympathies lie closer to the latter, as I believe that, in its feverish quest to become a Hollywood movie, MGS4 surpasses most action fare to be found at the local box office. It owes huge debts to Asian cinema, no doubt, as well as Western movies. Nevertheless, the staging of these sequences is perfect. Observe, for instance, a dramatic fight scene in the South American chapter of the game between Raiden and Vamp. Both characters engage in close-quarters combat that is fluid and exciting, with its back-and-forth repartee and dancelike aesthetic. This is the “movie in the game” at its best.

Unfortunately, you also have scenes that drag on and on as characters pontificate and exposit needless minutiae and details–many of which are of interest to longtime fans who keep their Encyclopedia Kojima close to their persons at all times and recognize the spiderweb of character connections and dense plot developments with some clarity. I am not one of those people, at least I was not on my first experience. Having done considerable research into the mythology of this alternate-reality history series, I now appreciate the ten minute monologues at least to the point of tolerance. Truly, these character do have much to say.

Characters:

Some of the most memorable and well-developed characters in gaming can be found here. Many, if not most, are either adored by fans or recognized as significant. Others, such as the unjustly despised Raiden are not given such preferential treatment. None of the characters are any more or less ridiculous than any other, though some are certainly more entertaining than others. Snake is given most of the shining moments, including that fantastic scene in the Corridor near the end that was emotionally draining just to watch. Here the interactive, close relationship that you have with Snake is truly used to the fullest extent. The pacing is perfect. Any slower, it would be a drag on your patience. Any faster and the moment would have been burned into your mind with far less intensity. Supporting players are primarily there for Snake’s benefit, as he is the centre of their plans to save the world. As such, the other characters might have been sidelined, seeing as you never control any other characters–at least directly. However, the expansive nature of the cutscenes, as well as their sheer number, allows other people in the story to get their due, particularly Raiden.

Raiden is the most interesting character in the game. Snake has far less of a personality, being more a blank, if gruff, slate for you to control and judge for yourself. Most of Snake’s dialogue is actually reactionary or responsive. This got irritating at certain times. Raiden, however, truly takes on a completely different persona from previous games. He literally slips into completely new skin, with fashionably action-packed results. Inappropriate heeled shoes aside, Raiden’s presence never failed to light up a scene, even if the scene was not particularly memorable. Voiced with the same gruffness as nearly every other male character in the game, there is a new determination and even a touch of sadness to the character that was not present in MGS2. Kojima obviously recognized the potential of the character, and I’m glad he stuck to Raiden instead of giving up in the face of so much harsh vitriol lobbed at the character after his PS2 debut.

On the opposite side of the war (though it’s not quite as simple as that) we have Ocelot, whom we find out has been assuming Liquid Snake’ persona in an attempt to fulfill his anti-Patriot ambitions. The most remarkable thing about the game was that, though the final battle was indeed against Snake’s oldest enemy, it came after the main plot had been wrapped up. This centred the focus clearly on the plot to destroy and save the world first, and on personal vendettas second. It also crystallized the notion that Ocelot was not truly opposed to Snake, but on something resembling the same side. Ocelot, after all, allowed Snake to complete the mission without personally interfering. Of course, even if Snake had failed, he still could have finished the job himself, which is what makes his character so fascinating in the end.

The overarching theme throughout the entire experience was the notion of control. Characters are often thrust into situations over which they have no control, or merely possess the illusion of control. Sons of the Patriots allows Liquid Ocelot to manipulate the actions of entire armies and wrest power away from its established keepers. However, he is a person who is under complete control of another personality that he manufactured for himself as part of a larger scheme that holds sway over his actions. Snake, too, is not a character who dictates his own path. The player, in fact, is the one who controls the entire outcome. The multitude of paths and ability to approach situations with a freedom heretofore unheard of in the franchise further reflects this. Even when Snake is the one actually performing the actions of the battlefield, you are the one directing it. Thus, more than anything, the game is self-reflective, an ongoing comment on itself, its own narrative and stylistic excess, and the notion that the entire game world was not only fabricated under the intense scrutiny of a famously perfectionist game designer, but also evolving under the eyes and through the fingers of the one playing it.

Conclusion:

Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots, while not containing the requisite amount of symbolism and overt political commentary (though there is still plenty of both) typical of a Metal Gear game, contains a world of depth all its own, being entirely self-aware and ultimately engaging the player on many emotional tracks. Moments of adolescence and utter insanity aside, this is a thoughtful and well-considered work that is both an immense enjoyment to play and a fascinating puzzle to unravel.

Upcoming Events: E3 2010

E3 2010 is a show that inspires more than its fair share of coverage, glitz, and glamour. It also inspires strong emotional responses from all over the spectrum. Rage to joy. Laughter to angry troll postings on forums stuck in some tiny dilapidated corner of the Internet. Well, there will be a full coverage here of what I think qualifies as vital information. At least one article from Nintendo and Sony’s conference, and maybe one from Microsoft if I have enough time. One has to be discriminating, yes?

Briefly, I would like to express a thought: E3 is almost an entirely commercial enterprise, a venue for the ones who are already strutting tall to try to out-strut the others. The three main press conferences are less conferences for the press than flashy light-show punches. That works for some companies, but I fear that the indie developers and the creators of truly innovative work that may never see the light of day are getting the short end of the E3 stick. Perhaps they should open up a free market there for publishers to check out games from indie developers that catch their eye. Sort of like a film festival. Except, can we have this one shorter on the blatant commercialism, and longer on the ideas and invention? Thanks.

Changes Coming

Sadly, events and challenges in my life have conspired to keep me away from this blog for many months now. Do not take that as an ominous note of this blog’s imminent demise, however. Take it more as a portent of what is soon to come. Essentially, a radical shift in how this blog will be structured and what kind of content it will feature. Perhaps not as radical as the preceding sentence built it up to be. More “significant” than “radical,” especially since the latter implies a complete shift. That will not be the case.

This blog of mine will still be about games and media. The difference will be that instead of the age-old “games and tech” subtitle, the blog will be sans subtitle from now on, which, though petty, is psychologically liberating for me. It allows me to express thoughts unrelated to video games and put them here. The main focus of the blog will still be on video games, but I will feel more at ease switching things up or doing comparative pieces. Over the last year or so, I have developed a deeper interest in movie criticism, and I think that, although fundamentally different as expressive media, games and movies increasingly share commercial, ideological and artistic links.

7twentyfour is back, ladies and gentlemen.

Opinion: Concluding Statements, and Why Games Need to End

It is a well-worn piece of advice given to new writers that you should never start writing unless you have your ending in mind. Knowing where your story will  end is of paramount importance. It allows you to give structure to your work and enables the use of techniques like foreshadowing to allow the reader to remain more involved and absorbed in you work. This axiom, at least in my mind, applies to all kinds of plotting and writing, stretching across time and media. Games, however, are built a bit differently, and there are wide swathes of the industry that are not only written lazily (if at all) but have no ending whatsoever. Massively Multiplayer games, for instance, are specifically designed to have no end, to spiral around and around and be explored and picked apart until its audience tires of it and a new expansion is released to begin the spin cycle all over again. Stories are not meant to be treated that way. They are meant to end, not just keep on going and going.

Above: not a story.

I take no issue with this approach, but acknowledge that I prefer my games to have definite ends. Stories are at the core of all media. News, books, television, film, comics, you name it. The core component of each is the bedrock of storytelling. That is what draws me to games. A great story, whether exhaustively revealed to us in long cutscenes or told through the advancing imagery of surreal Mario areas, ties a game together, and makes it more than the sum of its technical parts. Many games, particularly in the modern age, are just piles of distractions with a story that developers can cut trailers from. This dilution of linear progression is not new. It has just become more mainstream and prevalent.

Today, I finished the campaign of Uncharted 2: Among Thieves. As the credits rolled, I reflected upon the experience and marvelled at just how well-crafted it was. Because the developers chose to hew to a strict linearity, they could convincingly mix narrative and interaction in a way I had never seen outside of the Metal Gear universe. And Uncharted 2 achieved more with less, having cutscenes that were–compared with MGS4′s–brief, but contained a lot of punch. The fact that most of the storytelling occurs when the game is in progress also fascinated me. Conversations between the principal characters are realistic and engrossing, and the fact that the game looks gorgeous only reinforces its ability to tell its tale.

Standing in stark contrast to this method of driven and focused narrative is the open-world game, which has few stories that are worth repeating. The crime dramas of Grand Theft Auto are convincingly acted but become muddled and exposed as a sham because of the freedom your character has. What you do outside of missions has no bearing on what happens in them, at least not much. That fact lifts the curtain and shows you that the game’s world is an artificial construction that merely exists for you to destroy and drive around in. Morality is non-existent, though that may be intentional, and characters, while interesting, never hang around enough for you to really understand their motives or personalities.

Exhibiting traits of both Uncharted 2 and GTA, the Metroid franchise takes place in what I would call a “limited open world” where the narrative is always ongoing, revealed through expository scans and documents. Until the third Metroid Prime, the entire story was revealed in silence, allowing the creepy and complex geometry of the world to tell the story. In that way, Metroid Prime (the first one) is an engrossing tale, told through the world it takes place in, and your progression through that world. If you want, you can ignore all the extraneous information and just wonder at the mystery of it all. I did not take this route, and, to some extent, regret this. Satiation of human curiosity is often less exciting that the curiosity itself. In Metroid Prime, you can go wherever you want within the bounds of your own abilities and gadgetry, but are carefully directed in one direction. There are not a thousand plots trying to tie themselves together with rambling side quests and pointless fetch missions (there are fetch quests, but none of them are frivolous). There is a monolith at the centre, and a wealth of discovery and fantasy cushioning it. In some ways, it has one of the strongest stories in any game I have played.

This brings us the to the central Exhibit of this inquiry: the MMORPG. Unfortunately, this genre is only beginning to realize the vitality and authenticity that a story can give to a world.  World of Warcraft comes from good stock, and has a generic high-fantasy world (albeit one that has quite a bit of its own internal consistency and humour) but there is no real story to it. This–and the monthly fees–are what keep me from playing MMOs. The genre has stagnated for awhile, focusing on producing derivatives of World of Warcraft. The game do not end, so they merely perpetuate, layering on the busywork and smothering the player in so many complex systems that only the few, the proud, the hopeless even attempt to master them all. I am not one of these people.

Story is what counts in all aspects of life. Where would we be without stories? It’s impossible to tell, but I believe that it’s fair to say that we would not be the species we are today without them. Therefore, all games should have a story–told one way or another–at their core. Not every game has to be Metal Gear, Uncharted, or Shadow of the Colossus, but narrative is one of the components of gaming that needs to evolve quickly for it to remain relevant. To me, the most fascinating game release of early next year is Heavy Rain, a game that distills a game down to nothing but a series of story sequences and simple interactions with a highly interactive world. It’s a bright future, so bring it on.

Sweeping Review: Every PS3 Game I Have

Several months ago, I made a huge purchase. That purchase was a PS3. Sony had poked and prodded me for my attention since I was first wowed by a Motorstorm demo at a local Target over three years ago. However, not since the first PS1 Spyro game had I really played a game for any length of time on a Sony console. Sure, there were dalliances with Virtua Fighter 4 and a few instances of playing Medal of Honor, but not much else. This was a radical step. I was steeped heavily in Nintendo orthodoxy, closed to the outside. Over the last half of 2008 and 2009, I became ever more curious about the world outside.

This curiosity led to a more solid conviction that I should explore another console. My hatred for Microsoft (irrational, I admit, but deeply ingrained) prevented me from even giving the Xbox 360 a second look. I gravitated toward Sony because, and this is the truth, of Super Smash Bros. Brawl. What? A game that is so overtly celebratory of Nintendo fandom pushed me to one of their rivals? Why, yes. Actually, there was one specific character included: Solid Snake. My fascination with the lore and games of the Metal Gear franchise soon became stymied by the fact that I had just a Wii and there was no way a Metal Gear was coming to that platform. I looked into MGS4, and was blown away by its music, its graphical presentation, and its self-referential humour and style.

This, in turn, led to a breakthrough. I realized that there was too much passing me by on the PS3 to not own one. At the beginning of summer 2009, I made a pact with my gamer self that I would get a PS3 before the Autumnal Equinox. Sure enough, by late August, I had one. A shiny, huge black console that dwarfed my Wii in terms of size, power, and electricity consumption. More than that, though, it soon dwarfed the Wii in terms of play time.

Well, after the longwinded introduction, I must now introduce the actual topic at hand. Through the first five months of my PS3 ownership, I have acquired several games for the system. They run a wide gamut of styles and persuasion, but hold to a couple of common themes: the vast majority are either exclusives (like MGS4) or made primarily for the PS3 (Burnout Paradise). The purchase was made because I thought that that the PS3 had a unique appeal. Why should I get games that are also available for other platforms unless they are so good so as to require me to?

Here they are, in order of purchase:

1. Burnout Paradise

Despite the fact that this game was $20, I was expecting great things from this one. The game did not disappoint. It has a fantastic open-world setup, great driving controls, and an adrenaline rush that is almost unparalleled in my collection so far. Despite my disappointment that the game did not contain real cars, I fully embraced the game’s stylized California landscapes and edgy presentation. An additional plus for me was the custom soundtrack option, which allowed me to listen to Relient k and the Advent Children soundtrack while racing for my life through the cluttered streets of Paradise City. “Where the grass is green and the girls are pretty.”

2. Ratchet and Clank Future: Tools of Destruction

Before my conversion to a “gamer” from “Nintendo guy” I was deeply skeptical of Ratchet and Clank. I was a bit too closed-minded to look up the fact that Insomniac had also created the first video game I can remember playing (Spyro the Dragon). Well, the fact is that R&C is awesome. From beginning to end, the game just piles on the charm, fun action, and humour. The game is also gorgeous, by the way. Still, that barely mattered in the face of just how great the game was once I got into it. My current love of this franchise may have been the greatest paradigm shift in my transition.

3. Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots

In order to effectively illustrate how I feel about this particular piece of interactive entertainment, a few statistics will be presented. The number of times I have completed the game: 6. Total number of hours spent in the game: 40-50. At this point, I can blaze through the game on Solid Normal in just under 9 hours. Not impressive, for sure, but still good. In short terms, this has become my favourite game of this generation, leapfrogging Super Mario Galaxy and Metroid Prime 3. Never having been exposed to Metal Gear before, I was confused by the storyline but never repelled. This game keeps its head on its shoulders and a good sense of humour about itself. It is an entertaining tour-de-force of game design and cinema design meeting in the middle and subliming into a powerful combination. Seriously. This game is probably the closest to a perfect game I have ever played.

4: LittleBigPlanet

When I look back on it, it was Metal Gear and this game that first struck my interest as PS3 exclusives. This game appealed to the rabid Mario fan in me. The one who loved jumping from left to right and exploring surreal worlds full of things that have eyeballs but shouldn’t. LittleBigPlanet is the greatest fork in the road for platformers in years. It has redefined what a platformer can be in my eyes. This game takes place in a world of realistic physics and unrealistic situations. There is a fantastic single-player mode (that can be played with up to four people online) and an incredible community that has produced some of the coolest platforming levels I can remember playing. Come for the gameplay and graphics (which are also quite pretty and styled appropriately) and stay for the infinite well of content that is just waiting to be dredged up.

5. Super Street Fighter 2 Turbo HD Remix

Now, though I am not by nature nostalgic when it comes to video games, I would be the first to acknowledge that some games have stood the test of time extraordinarily well. Actually, I had never touch a Street Fighter arcade or played a console version in my entire life before last year. I Of course, I was converted to be a fan instantly. Despite how hard the Arcade Mode is, I have grown to appreciate that, and see it as a great challenge that keeps on giving. I mean, other than the hilariously stereotyped characters, what other reason is there to play Street Fighter? Plot?

6. GRiD

Burnout is a great game, but it left me oddly dissatisfied in some ways. I did resent the fact that it did not have any real cars, for instance. So, along comes my cousin, who agrees to give me GRiD for free. I was overwhelmed with the punishingly realistic controls and it required a big mental adjustment after playing Burnout for so long. After this, I became enamoured with ascending the ranks of the world of race driving. It was vital, however, that that rewind mechanism was included. Otherwise, I may have let this one stay at the starting line, spinning its tires.

7. Uncharted 2: Among Thieves

Usually, I’m able to contain the hype I have for a game to forms of non-verbal communication. Silently laughing to myself, raising my hands in the air in an emphatic manner, that kind of thing. However, upon my first glimpse of Uncharted 2, I was swept up into all the ruckus. I didn’t scream but I did applaud and whoop (quietly) after viewing the E3 2009 demo trailer for the first time. At that point, I had already decided to get a PS3, but after that show, I was dying to get one. Well, not dying in the literal sense. And, of course, the hype faded away eventually. But it was soon replaced by a feeling of immense satisfaction, the feeling I had not gotten since first playing Metal Gear Solid 4. The game blew me away almost from start to finish. Visually, the game is unparalleled, and the voice acting and presentation are top-notch. It was incredible.

8. inFamous

Here’s a confession. It may be known that I do not have a soft spot in my heart for open world games. In fact, inFamous was the first one that I really connected with (OK, besides Burnout, but that was a racing game) on any meaningful level. I think the fact that the city is a devastated shell, that Cole is a genuinely cool and endearing character, and that you are an electrically-powered superhero who fights crime and can be either bad or good. In Grand Theft Auto, there is almost no choice. You are bad, a criminal who rises up the ranks and murders countless people. In inFamous, you have a choice to be good, and that is something I love. Sometimes. But this one is definitely a keeper.

9. Resistance 2

My most recent purchase (just a few days ago, in fact), I have yet to experience the entire game. Or even just the campaign. More on this later, but so far the game is looking to be massive, with a long road ahead through both competitive and cooperative multiplayer. Not to mention the fact that the campaign itself is great.

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