I’ve been playing Dragon Age II (very slowly) for a couple weeks now and I think, finally, we’ve clicked. How do I know? Because the gameplay and my characters from the game pop into my thoughts when I’m not playing. And when that happens, distracting as it may be, I starting thinking about where I’m going to go and what I’m going to do next in the game.
And then I start thinking about just playing the game – being in my house, controller in hand, calm and comfortable, ready to explore the unknown. [happy sigh]
How do you know when you’ve hit your stride with a game? Is it love at first play or does it take awhile to build up a relationship?
(The Duck currently has a bunch of posts started but incomplete. My brain is feeling lethargic today. So I am posting below a recent post from my own blog until I get these posts done. I have been writing different topics from the 100 theme challenge, and this is #6. Behold!)
Okay, today’s 100 theme challenge topic is Break Away. What in the world is that supposed to even mean? When I think of those two words, I think of, well, breaking something. Or possibly being in the grips of a kidnapper and breaking out of their hands with your swift, ninja skills! Which luckily has not happened to me, but that is strangely on my mind when I think of this topic. But, neither of those are good topics. I don’t break things, and as I said, I haven’t had to “break away” from a kidnapper. Or a duck-napper, either. Continue reading 100 Theme Challenge No. 6: Break Away→
It is so strange to think that over time; nearly all innovations become commonplace fixtures. Whenever new technology comes along to shake things up for the better, the whole world marvels at the novelty, eager to own a fresh gadget (or condemn it as witchcraft). But over time, what seemed so brilliant and beneficial becomes yet another part of our everyday routine. For us gamers, the various leaps in visual technology over the last two decades are a perfect example of this sentiment. I often take for granted that the sorts of images the consoles of today can produce would blow my childhood mind to pieces. On an even more basic level, just the thought of a controller that vibrates would have been some sort of voodoo to my twelve-year old self.
In the early part of 1997, my brother and I received a promotional video from Nintendo Power. Upon this VHS tape was a laughably bad dramatization of a kidnapped Nintendo employee spilling the beans to goons from Sony and Sega about Nintendo’s next top secret project. This “classified information” was none other than Star Fox 64, the soon-to-be summer blockbuster for the Nintendo 64. After seeing plenty of screenshots for Star Fox in previous issues of Nintendo Power, my brother and I were psyched to see the game in action. The gameplay footage on the video sold us on Star Fox 64 before it was even released, but little did we know that the odd peripheral featured on the tape would change our lives far more than some vulpine pilot.
The Rumble Pack debuted alongside Star Fox 64 in this silly promo video. The captive Nintendo rep from the video bragged that the new accessory would let players “feel the game,” and the Rumble Pack would make Star Fox 64 “the coolest cinematic gaming experience out there.” He explained that if an Arwing took a hit or if you dropped a Nova Bomb on screen, the Rumble Pack would cause the controller to vibrate rapidly in the player’s hands. As we watched the Sony and Sega goons convulse in overdramatic response to the shaking controllers, my brother and I wanted so desperately to experience the Rumble Pack for ourselves. With our enthusiasm running on full steam, my brother made sure that Star Fox 64 was at the top of his birthday list.
While this all seems a bit overhyped compared to the technology of today, keep in mind, this was the first time that a player would receive force feedback through a controller. We didn’t have your fancy built-in rumble technology back in my day! At its release, Nintendo could have further drained customer pockets by selling the Rumble Pack as a separate entity, but this was new ground in the video game market, so the Big N had to tread carefully. To ensure that every player who bought Star Fox 64 would receive such an immersive experience, Nintendo bundled the little gray block in every copy of the game. This was such a smart move, since Nintendo could market the product as a sort of “two-for-one” deal, as well as a new gaming experience.
Needless to say, my brother and I were floored by the Rumble Pack. We each played through the single-player campaign of Star Fox, the two of us reacting just as foolishly as the actors from the promo video; shaking and looking at each other with slack jaws and sunned gazes. When it came time for multiplayer battles, we would flip a coin to decide who would get the Rumble Pack to start with, and each subsequent use was determined by the victor. We even set the controller down during vibration heavy cutscenes, just to watch it rumble across the ground as some enemy battle cruiser disintegrated on-screen, an entire year before Psycho Mantis was ordering players to do so in Metal Gear Solid.
Initially, this idea of shaking controllers seemed like a passing novelty; something that would only work with Star Fox 64, maybe a handful of future Nintendo 64 releases, and then we would all move on to some other hardware fad. Even with this notion, the Rumble Pack never left its controller; the first player slot had a permanent addition in our household. Other companies took notice of this technology, and sure enough, Sony was rolling out the Dual Shock controller only months later in Japan. With the debut of built-in haptic technology on the Sony Playstation, force feedback controllers were here to stay.
Note: I’m using ‘open world’ in a very broad sense and discuss games that are not really open world at all (like Mass Effect and LA Noire) and are merely non-linear or offer a degree of exploration. The reason for this is that my main focus here is to look at why these elements are becoming so popular in the games industry over strict linearity, so the distinction between true open world games and those with open world elements isn’t particularly important for my purposes.
If you follow my blog at all, you probably know that I love me some of that open world action. In the last decade in particular, the number of open world games has been on the rise and some of them have been incredible. However, it does seem that more and more these days, developers are turning to an open world or sandbox structure and though I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s become the norm, it’s certainly getting that way. Consider how many recent AAA titles in the past few years have been open world games. There’s Red Dead Redemption, any of the GTA games, Skyrim, the new Tomb Raider and Far Cry 3 to name just a few. Old franchises that weren’t previously open world have switched over to this structure. Sequels of franchises that were previously open world in a more limited sense have been lauded as bigger and better with each new sequel, like Assassin’s Creed. Developers have bragged about the size of the maps as if that somehow means the game is now better. To many, it seems that having increasingly expansive worlds has somehow become linked with quality and innovation in a game. My question is, can the narrative or any other element of a game suffer from, in essence, being too open world and expansive? The short answer is, in my opinion, a resounding yes. To be clear, my point isn’t that developers should stop making open world games or that they shouldn’t keep trying to push the limits of how expansive a game can be, because if done well, these types of games often are innovative, entertaining, immersive, creative and can enhance both story and gameplay. If done incorrectly however, the results can be at best boring and at worst game-breaking. To that end, I do think that developers need to be a little more cautious in deciding whether a game should be open world or not as it doesn’t necessarily mean it will automatically make it a better game and that they should also be careful in balancing that openness with other elements that they think are important.
Firstly, open world does not equal more fun. That seems to be the premise for developers jumping on the open world bandwagon and I think that’s simply not true. I’m not talking about the fact that massive maps can often be quite daunting (especially for completionists), because that’s something you can get over once you become more absorbed in the wold. The truth is, many open world games can be quite boring, especially those filled with travelling and fetch quests. I’m sure most of you have played open world games like Assassin’s Creed where you get to take full advantage of the amazing scenery on your long rides into the next area. The problem with this is that it gets old pretty quickly. There’s only so much time I can spend watching my character ride around on a horse, no more how heroically they do it. Of course, many games get around this issue by introducing fast travel, but if everything’s so far apart (and many games do this) that you have to constantly fast travel, it begs the question, what’s the point of all having this wonderful expansive world? It’s not like you’re seeing it much. There are also games that feature huge maps, but have no fast travel or still require you to travel excruciatingly long distances and have mind-numbingly boring ways of getting from Point A to Point B, which is even worse. It’s true that it’s difficult to make something as repetitive as driving or riding fun and I can only think of a few games that have done it really well, Far Cry 3 being one. The problem then is not simply with making the game open world, but a problem of often making games too massive in size without actually thinking about how a player is actually going to traverse that territory in a fun way and still takes advantage of all those areas you’ve created.
Having an unbelievable and frankly, daunting number of collectibles and loot items is also a common feature of open world games that can often actually make the experience more boring than fun. I have nothing against collecting or looting items as such. It can be a fun addition to a game that takes advantage of an expansive world and adds optional content that gives you more fun things to do. However, done wrong, it can end up feeling like collecting just for the sake of collecting and a repetitive exercise that doesn’t really add anything significant to the game other than more hours logged. In games like Far Cry 3, it doesn’t bother me too much, because it’s completely optional and you wouldn’t really miss out on anything from not collecting everything, other than a few extra weapons, for instance. Also games that manage to work the collectibles into the main storywork well, because collecting becomes less of a pointless, repetitive exercise. What does irritate me is when the collectibles are artificially made an important element of the game, forcing you traverse the whole map. Sure you don’t have to collect all the items, but then you would be missing out. That’s how I felt with the voxophones in BioShock Infinite. They didn’t just tell you back story, they actually told you crucial parts of the main story or least information that I doubt anyone would voluntarily choose to miss. It feels like I’m being punished for not exploring, which should surely be up to the player. Adding in as much exploration as possible and padding the game with tons of extra items and loot doesn’t automatically make a game fun. How to implement exploration is just as important as deciding to include it in the first place and that’s something I feel developers sometimes forget.
Secondly, I don’t think that all genres or stories are inherently suited to being open world. Not all first-person shooters, for instance, would benefit from the open world format for instance. Much as I adore Mass Effect (that’s probably one of the biggest understatements I have ever made right there), I do feel that the first two games suffered from attempting to balance action and exploration and as a result fell a bit short on both at times. It’s a difficult line to walk and I’m not suggesting that they should have cut out either (God no!) My point is just that it is difficult to balance exploration with other elements of a game and that thought needs to be put into how to do that or whether it would enhance the experience at all. There are many games where the open world elements can feel completely superfluous, like LA Noire. Driving around and completing little side quest frankly felt like a chore and took away from the important parts of the game. Rather than add to your experience, those extra elements just feels pointless and you end up either just ignoring it or just grinding through it. There’s not only no need to add in open-world elements into a game, it can end up just diluting what would otherwise have been a fantastic experience on its own.
Thirdly, games that have huge open worlds can sometimes suffer visually as well, with each area having have less detail than those of more linear games or those with smaller maps. For some games it doesn’t matter, for instance sandbox games such as Minecraft or Dwarf Fortress. The point is to have an extremely expansive world, which you can control or manipulate and the graphics are deliberately basic for that reason. However, the bigger the world the more likely there are to be horrendous glitches. Red Dead Redemption, for instance, has some absolutely hilarious ones (check it out on Youtube). Also there’s often less to do than it first appears. In many open world or non-linear games there are big open spaces that you have to travel between or areas for exploration, but there’s actually very little in them. It’s mainly an illusion of space and all the items and quests could have been packed into a much smaller area, rather than forcing you to traverse the map just to collect one little thing. Bigger is definitely not better and if you have a huge map, but with very little actually going on in its various parts, then personally I would prefer to play a game with more detail packed into a smaller map. That doesn’t mean that open-world games are inherently less detailed at all. Batman: Arkham Asylum and Far Cry 3 did very well at packing tons of detail into fairly large areas. It’s all about balance and not simply expanding for the sake of expanding.
Lastly and most importantly to me is that the story can suffer for adding in open world elements for no reason and the result is that it feels less like a less coherent world. Too many side quests can detract from the apparent urgency of the main plot and make it more difficult to suspend disbelief at times and can even lead to narrative inconsistencies. I’m sure everyone’s come across a point in an open world or non-linear game where a character tells you ‘quick! Get to the next area and talk to so and so or we’ll all die! We’re counting on you!’ Instead of taking this to heart, your character wanders around for the next three hours collecting things and talking to NPCs and ‘exploring’. It can lead to a feeling of disconnect when you do continue with the main mission, only for everyone to act like you weren’t just a complete douchebag for abandoning them in their time of need. Also, running around talking to tons of characters can mean that the characters you do meet are less developed. The benefit of more linear games is that it’s easier to follow specific characters around and there’s more time dedicated to getting to know them. Here there is a major difference between a non-linear game and a truly open world game. The more open world, the more these dangers exist. Sometimes having millions of possibilities can feel more like a lack of direction and that can take away from the main narrative. It’s not a surprise that many games with the best stories are linear or at least more linear than a fully open world or sandbox game, although of course not exclusively. As many point out, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with a story being linear. In fact linear stories are tried and true. When was the last time you read a non-linear book? It’s all about finding that balance and figuring out whether your story would benefit from your game being non-linear. Personally, I don’t think games should be open world unless there’s a real reason to do so; in other words, if it would really further the plot or if the exploration aspect of the game is simply more important.
There seems to be an obsession with open world games or at least with having some open world elements. Personally, I think developers need to be more cautious and I don’t like the trend of simply making games bigger or having more options simply for the sake of it. Of course, in the end it comes down to enjoyment and for some people, exploration is more important. If you’re enjoying yourself, that’s the important thing and there many games that incorporate or focus on the exploration aspect of a game and do it very well and they are no less important than games that depend on its tightly told narrative. Those two types of games are also not mutually exclusive. At the same time, I think it’ll be a while before we see a truly narratively strong and truly open world game. That doesn’t mean we should give up, but there does need to be more awareness that there is a balancing act going on or at least that there needs to be a decision for sacrifice. I welcome more open world games, but I also think it’s a pit trap that many a good game could fall into, never to return.
Day 1 DLC, online access codes, the “PSN Pass”, each of these a different version of “premium” content meant to encourage buying new. Premium content is a tough issue to take a stance on, since there is a valid argument for each side. On one hand we have the developer/ publisher essentially offering a more “complete” game by offering extra content to new game buyers, while on the other hand we have used game consumers, who are seemingly punished by the existence of that same premium content. Neither side is completely in the wrong, since the developer and/or publisher are simply trying to reduce losses due to used games, while used game buyers are simply trying to make their hobby slightly more affordable (a game is an expensive purchase after all). Continue reading Premium Content in Games→
I am a solitary gamer. I hardly ever do any multiplayer, and I have never done any online multiplayer gaming (except PC gaming once playing “Runescape” on an old computer that froze every two seconds). Just never wanted to, plus no way am I paying to use XBox Live. You raise the price of each game by $10, then, expect me to pay for multiplayer? I think not! Good day, sir! I said good day! But, I have done the old-fashioned multiplayer on occasion, and I did enjoy it the times I wasn’t humiliated by my opponent. And there are times when I prefer playing against people over playing against the computer. And so this post shall compare the duck’s positive and negative experiences with playing alone and with others. Continue reading The Duck’s Personal Trials and Joys of Multiplayer Gaming→
[This post was originally published on Plus10Damage December 19, 2012.]
Screenshot by Flickr user: brava_67
I began a ritual last Halloween. No, not the Satanic kind. The kind where I annex myself to my room, close the door, and shut off the lights. I sat atop my bed, my laptop placed strategically on my lap, so as to occupy as large a percentage of my vision as possible. The donning of my Grado SR-80i headphones completed The Preparations. Well, not quite. There was yet one integral element: I had to open Steam, select Amnesia, and press “play.”
And for what? Why take extra effort to frighten myself? Why go to all this trouble, if I’m just going to end up breathing heavily and closing the game in a couple hours? Why do I keep pushing back in, if I know my mind will be unable to withstand the isolation and subsequent terror? Condemned, Amnesia, Dead Space, Anna, Silent Hill, Fatal Frame, F.E.A.R., Alan Wake, and even parts of Bioshock have played a role in this strange ongoing quest to torture myself.
Why?
WHY?
I cannot deny the appeal of thrills, at least to the extent that dangerous experiences give me some sort of rush. Any game — no, any thing — that makes me excited is usually something I will engage. But beyond the artificial, amusement-park-like “I might die at any moment, but actually I’m safer than driving in most cars” sort of feeling, there lies the comfort-transcending appeal of horror gaming: immersion.
By genre definition, a horror game is meant to terrify or inspire “horror.” This is accomplished by tricking the mind — much like in film — that something completely and obviously made-up is actually happening. AND TO YOU.
This is immersion, and horror games have it. They have to have it, or they fail. Emphasis on atmosphere and psychological play are two of the most important elements to consider when creating the scarytimes. Atmosphere pulls you in, and the way you interact with the atmosphere — the gameplay — has to be fine-tuned not for ultimate fun, but tension and fear. I hate to say that it’s “more of an art,” mostly because I’m afraid I haven’t given such a broad statement nearly enough forethought, so I’ll stick with something simpler.
In my experience, horror games are consistently the most immersive.
Screenshot by Flickr User: FAN THE FIRE Magazine
That. That is why I keep coming back to them. That is why I perform tedious preparations — I actually lit candles once while playing F.E.A.R., so as to create further shadowplay — in order to fully enjoy the pants-peeing. Horror games demand the most intense immersion from a player in order to be successful, and work hard to establish such an atmosphere.
There exists one problem in every tension-and-then-scare-you-to-death-fest I’ve ever encountered:
The immersion break.
Death, specifically. In horror games, death is the worst. Let’s use Amnesia again to exemplify this concept, since it was while playing Frictional’s terrifying masterpiece that I wrapped my mind around this truth.
The water level. Without spoiling much — if anything — there’s an invisible beastie capable of awful noises and splooshy steps coming after you. But only when you’re in the water. It’s terrifying, because every trip to the next platform is a tense race against the filthy aberration that constantly pants and sniffs in its search for your delicious meat-body. In the moment, I was terrified of nothing more than ghostmonsterguy getting me from behind, and doing hell-knows-what to my poor, should-have-tried-harder-in-gym-class corpse. In fact, it made my heart race literally more in sheer terror than anything ever has in any game.
It is nuts. I hate it. My nerves hate it.
But then the guy gets me, an interface pops up and basically screams “you’re in a game sucka,” and I have to try again. All of a sudden, the creature that induced sheer terror has transformed an obstacle that I must outwit. It’s still tense, sure. But my brain has remembered something very important, something that — in the rush of immersion — it forgot.
It remembered that it was playing a video game.
Screenshot by Flickr User: Averyanov Ilya
While horror games are the industry’s champions in terms of immersion, that immersion is often fragile and, when destroyed, leaves a shell of an experience. Without narrative to propel a horror trip that has no immersion factor — the F.E.A.R. sequels — the game falls pretty flat. I want to have some great idea about fixing this from a developmental standpoint, but removing actual character death / failure seems almost impossible. In fact, it’s that impending death that propels such terror in the first place. Perhaps we lovers of the frightening will just have to deal with the fact that, after all, we’re playing stories. And those stories are always going to have limitations.
But hey. Come Halloween, I’m going to try to mentally transcend those limitations.
And maybe poop myself.
[This post was originally published on Plus10Damage December 19, 2012.]
