Experience Points

Mail Call!

2012-01-26T19:05:00.000-08:00

Hey everyone! Jorge and I are interested in doing a "mailbag" show in which we take questions from listeners. Of course, for this to work, you all have to be interested as well!

So if you want to hear us jabber on about a particular topic, feel free to send us an email (experiencepoints AT gmail dot com), message or reply to us on Twitter (that's @JAlbor and @sjuster), submit a comment on this post, or dispatch your trained hawk to one of our homes.

Thanks for listening!

Strategies, Tactics, and Turnovers

2012-01-26T18:08:00.000-08:00

Brace yourselves: this week at Popmatters, I'm talking about football. Don't worry, I'm also talking about video games and board games.

This weekend I was able partake in all three areas: I watched the 49ers' heartbreaking loss, I played the deviously complex Game of Thrones board game, and I plugged away on a few video games I've been playing. The combination of the three started to help me crystallize the way I think about video games as a medium in comparison to its other ludic cousins.
This piece was a hard one, and even after trying to think it through over the past couple days, I'm not entirely happy with it. An email exchange with my always-helpful editor, G. Christopher Williams, actually helped clarify my article's point, so I'll paraphrase my own emails here:

"Essentially, I'm trying to say that many video games are more like sports [than board games] because pressure to perform and tactical challenges can upset your strategy to a greater extent than can happen in most (all?) board games.

Another good example [of the connection between video games and sports] [is] tennis: if you're serving and you fail to get the ball over the net two times in a row, your opponent gets a point. Any tennis player worth his or her salt can easily get the ball over the net, but random mistakes, mental lapses, over-thinking their opponent's next move, even the wind can mess them up. When this happens, their whole strategy needs to change: now that they're down a point, they might not charge the net, they might try to serve slower but more accurately, or they might have just given up the game. The best tennis players are good at overcoming the pressure and mitigating random factors and are thus able to implement their strategy without having to worry about tactical mistakes.

Most board games do not, and possibly cannot, simulate the feeling of your body betraying your mind. You're never going to throw the dice "wrong." You're never going to have trouble playing a card; even if it is the wrong card from a strategic sense, you'll never have trouble implementing your action. Very few games have "double faults" in the way tennis does; random bad luck is either purely random (in the form of dice rolls or random cards) or nonexistent (like in chess). Video games with any kind of action component require at least some minimum amount of coordination between mental and physical effort, which makes them seem more like sports to me.

[Playing a board game might elicit an emotional response], but I imagine most of the groaning comes from the strategic binds [the game] places you in, rather than the immediate challenge of making your decisions. Now, if you had a timer that was ticking, forcing you to quickly move your pieces around the board, shuffle your cards, or count up points, I think you'd be bleeding back into sports territory, as a sloppy tactical mistake (dropping your tiles, counting incorrectly, missing a card, etc.) could compromise your strategy."

Granted, the line can get a bit murky, but I think the video game/sport relationship is understudied. Again, this theory isn't fully formed, but I think there is something to it.

In any case, at least it took my mind off of the 49ers' inglorious end.

EXP Podcast #157: Breaching the Wall

2012-01-25T17:13:00.000-08:00

We may say we are all part of a large gaming community, but some groups of players may be living in a walled off city, isolated from the popular discussion of games. World of Warcraft may have millions of players, but is the WoW community excluded now more than ever? Katie Williams thinks so in her article that inspired this week's podcast discussion. Who built these walls? What are we losing by isolating ourselves? And most importantly, how do we tear these walls down? Join Scott and me this week while we try to answer these questions and many more. As always, we encourage you to read Katie's original piece which you can find in the show notes below. We also encourage you to share your thoughts in the comments section.

Discuss starters:
- How relevant is WoW today?
- Are MMOs unique enough such that they inherently exist in a walled off city?
- What role do developers, and community managers in particular, play in fomenting conversation between games.

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 29 min 05 sec
- "The Walled City of Gaming: World of Warcraft," by Katie Williams via Gameranx
- "Bow Nigger," by Always Black
- "Alice and Kev: The Story of Being Homeless in Sims 3," by Robin Burkinshaw
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Ready Player Two

2012-01-24T22:11:00.000-08:00

As you all know, I am a consumer of so much media I find it shocking I have enough time in the day to eat. This includes film and literature. So it is great when I can combine some aspects of one interest with another. I recently finished Ready Player One by Ernest Cline, and I want to share some of my thoughts on a book filled to the brim with pop-culture references. My hope is that Scott and I will discuss the book in greater detail on the podcast at some point. It rightfully stands out among other young-adult novels in its unabashed glorification of "nerdy" videogames, television, movies, books, music and more, particularly the classics (for better of worse) of the eighties. The book is of and for the first generation that grew up on videogames and therefore casts light into the cultural space from>whence many of us come.

To give a quick plot synopsis of the work, Ready Player One takes place in a dystopic future in which the world has fallen prey to environmental degradation, an immense economic collapse, corporate power, and a general malaise. The vast majority of citizens spend all their time hiding from reality in the OASIS, an MMO in which the laws of fictions are routinely broken and players can visit thousands of worls to have adventure, shop, or even go to school. When the game designer dies, he leaves behind a set of riddles and puzzles themed around the pop-culture artifacts of his time and promises that the winner will inherit his fortune. Ernest Cline takes the premise of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and writes a love letter to the art of his era, from John Hughes' oeuvre to every game published for the Atari 2600.

I will avoid detailing any more of the plot or themes from the book. If you are reading this blog, I assure you the book is well worth your time.

It is strange reading a book that feels intentionally written for you. I will admit, I was born in the early eighties, so I was still a child when a lot of this book's cultural icons took shape. While a miss many of the book's references, most make my smile and laugh at the fondly remembered canon of my youth. Ready Player One is filled to the brim with nostalgia. Every time the protagonist casually makes a Star Wars reference or relies on Dungeons & Dragons knowledge to overcome a challenge, it feels immensely rewarding. In the real world, I carry with me a lingering sense that the media I consumed as a child was a waste of time, that my mind is filled with useless limericks and crudely drawn dungeon maps. In the world of Ready Player One, trivial knowledge is invaluable. The book is an ultimate vindication of a youth spent in front of the television or around an arcade cabinet.

Yet the book's protagonist is a hero because of his actions when tested, not his collection of 80s pop-culture information. Cline manages to avoid glorifying the "otaku" image of a nerdy kid isolated from the world while also praising the cultural artifacts of an era. We partake in the stories we have consumed, be they games, books, or literature, and they have rewarded a bounty of lessons and, yes, even escapism. I welcome the nostalgia of Ready Player One because it is familiar, sure, but also because it finds value in the artifacts of the past and, most importantly, it wants to share them. At times when playing a game, I am struck by a sense of eager jubilation, and I want nothing more than to share this particular moment with the world, spreading my enthusiasm for a game, a piece of writing, or even just a digital vista. Of course we cannot always do that. But Ready Player One tries anyway. It creates a world born of many of our shared experiences, a love letter meant to share an appreciation of the media that helped raise a generation.

Endeavor and the Economics of Slavery

2012-01-19T16:15:00.000-08:00

My latest article is up on PopMatters: Endeavor and the Economics of Slavery.

I am a big fan of board games but rarely get an opportunity to discuss their design or significance in this venue. On several occasions Scott and I have discussed on the podcast whether certain game genres lend themselves better to certain experiences or messages. Board games are a fuzzy genre-like case because, theoretically, you could duplicate all the systems of a board game in a digital space. Many companies do in fact. Apples to Apples is now a video game, with significant rule changes from the card version. Carcassone is quite popular on XBLA and on the iOS as well. However, these digital versions still fail to capture the social and tactile elements of board games that fundamentally shape their play experience.

In the case of Endeavor, we can imagine a strategy game that chooses to model something like slavery in a similar fashion. But even if the rule system remained essentially the same, players may respond differently to the moral issues a model of slavery elicits. The shackles printed on the cards, for example, brought up disturbing visions of the human wrists and ankles they were meant to confine. The infamous drawing of a slave galley filled to the brim like a can of sardines came to mind, a high-school history lesson I will never shake forget. I brought my own morality to the table and I grew uncomfortable with finishing the game without first abolishing slavery.

Of course not everyone thinks twice about the moral or ethical implications of game design. I argue in the article that game designers should be less concerned about giving offense because creating offensive content might be required before we can mine historical systems for all their worth. Given the same system, perhaps digital game designers need to be more sensitive. Maybe the act of playing alone makes one less critical of a game's moral quandaries than playing with others and discussing the content as it arises. Everyone generally knows how atrocious the slave trade was, so it may not be the best example to explore how group play affects rhetorical outcomes. I would be even more interested in a game tackling the modern day slave trade. That would be truly brave game design. In the mean time, Endeavor might teach us how to approach such sensitive material, both the risks and rewards.

Stop SOPA and PIPA

2012-01-18T12:37:00.000-08:00

Hey folks. As you may have heard, two pieces of disturbing legislation are currently working their way through the U.S. government. The Stop Online Privacy Act ("SOPA") and the Preventing Real Online Threats to Economic Creativity and Theft of Intellectual Property Act ("PROTECT IP" or "PIPA") threaten to grant big media companies the power to censor the Internet, stifle innovation, and monopolize the business of creating media content. We won't go into further detail here, but for those interested, Reddit has compiled good guides for educating yourself about the bills' various provisions and implications:

SOPA FAQs
A Technical Examination of SOPA

When a group as diverse as the Internet's founding architects, security experts, legal scholars, major tech companies, MoveOn, The Tea Party Patriots, a host of video game companies, and millions of citizens come out in opposition of an idea, you can be certain something interesting is happening. Like the other opponents of SOPA/PIPA, Jorge and I stand for an open Internet, free from the draconian policies big media companies wish to implement.

Simply put, the kind of copyright laws SOPA supporters (which include companies like CBS and Viacom and organizations like the MPAA and the game industry's own ESA) seek would make it very hard, if not impossible, to foster the kind of creative space we have carved out here at Experience Points. Government-endorsed censorship, blacklists, and monopolies have no place in the video game sphere, on the Internet, or any in any other realm of human culture and society.

We know how busy everyone is and how daunting such a huge task can feel, but anything you can do to resist this threat would make a difference. Google, the Electronic Frontier Foundation, and Ars Technica all offer good starting points for contributing to the cause. Speaking out on these issues, petitioning your government representatives, and supporting independent media are crucial steps to take. Whether you live in the U.S. or are one of our many international friends, this issue effects you. Whether you do so with your voice, your political support, or your wallet, please oppose the forces that lead to this type of legislation.

Again, we know it seems overwhelming, but we can do it. In the face of today's protests, you can see SOPA's proponents getting worried. Shrill rhetoric is often a sign of desperation.

Thanks for your help and support!

- Jorge and Scott

EXP Podcast #156: Contextual Greatness

2012-01-18T10:00:00.000-08:00

When we talk about the greatest games of all time in terms of their design, technology, and art, are we fooling ourselves? In a recent opinion piece, Leigh Alexander suggests that "truly great games" are all about players' personal contexts. This week, we use her article about the mystique surrounding Ocarina of Time as a starting point for a discussion about how our memories and the passage of time shape and re-shape some of our favorite games. As always, we're looking forward to hearing your thoughts in the comments!

Discussion starters:

- When you think about your favorite games, how crucial was the context in which you played themt?
- Have you ever revisited a game and then come away with a drastically new opinion?
- How should we take a game's context into account when thinking about its legacy?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 30 min 20 sec
- "Truly Great Games," by Leigh Alexander, via Edge
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Charming Little Monsters

2012-01-17T21:29:00.000-08:00

I realized the other day that, even though it has been some time since Jorge and I began our foray into Facebook games, I haven't actually written much about them. Fear not: this isn't going to be a post dedicated to pro tips on min-maxing strawberry production (although I have some thoughts on that). Instead, I'd like to recommend what I believe to be a quality "gateway" game for traditional players interested in social games: PixelJunk Monsters Online. PixelJunk Monsters Online is a clever take on a few familiar concepts and it manages to leverage its platform without indulging in the many of the more questionable habits other Facebook games exhibit.

Like its console counterpart, it's a tower defense game, and a fairly traditional one at that. After a round of building stationary defenses, lines of enemies with various abilities and strengths stream towards your base. The more enemies you stop and the more upgrades you make, the higher your score. It's a simple, yet challenging game that is well suited to leaderboard dynamics. There is always a better, more efficient way to defend a stage and since you're playing on Facebook your friends will be able to prove it. On-line leaderboards come naturally to Facebook and, since the game is free, it is much easier to build up a group of players to compete against.

From a mechanical perspective, I've always found tower defense games to be most enjoyable on the PC. Being able to quickly click on defenses and areas of the map is faster with a mouse and the static playing field and cartoonish graphics don't lose their impact when played on the small screen. Strategically queuing actions is usually the key to victory, but actively controlling your avatar to collect items before they fade away has saved me more than once. These actions are perfectly suited to the strengths of the mouse and are not dependant on high production values. This isn't to say that PixelJunk Monsters Online is aesthetically boring. Q-Games brings a fittingly whimsical art and musical style that, while more cartoonish than its console counterpart, is still distinct.

I admire the game most for its ethical implementation of common Facebook game payment schemes. Like most other Facebook games, Pixel Junk Monsters Online limits the amount of progress you can make in any one play session. Expend all your in-game currency and you'll have to wait a few hours before you can access any new levels or search for more powerups. "Rainbow juice" can be used to automatically open levels and can be bought with real money, but it can also be won though skilled play. Clearing stages perfectly yields rainbow juice, which essentially means that the better you get, the more you can play.

Whereas many Facebook games give you no other way to earn more currency besides begging your friends or trading it for cash, PixelJunk Monsters Online offers a proposition. Practice, improvement, and success are rewarded by longer play times and a richer social experience (it's annoying to be bumped from the top of the leader board, regardless of whether you're king of stage 1 or 100). Someone without a lot of money to spend won't be priced out of the game, whereas people with cash to spare have the luxury of skipping the grind if they so choose. Either way, you have access to two legitimate ways of playing the game: you can go for high scores or push yourself to explore all the stages.

By allowing for both these options, Q-Games has made a social game that respects your time, your money, and your friends. Instead of leveraging players and their social connections as pure assets, PixelJunk Monsters Online rewards skill as much as it does free time, money, or the number of friends you have. At its core, it taps into an ethos that dates back to the arcades: money can buy you more time, but only practice and skill will make you better at the game and allow you secure your spot in the most enviable social position: the top of the leader board.

In Search of the 'Skyward Sword' Audience

2012-01-12T22:22:00.000-08:00

This week at PopMatters, I take aim at The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword.

Zelda is one of my favorite series, one that I believe usually showcases the best the medium has to offer. Over the years, Zelda games have pushed design philosophy forward, implementing dynamics to which most other games still aspire. Therefore, it brings me no pleasure to say that Skyward Sword is a disappointment.

Certainly, there are bright spots. The world is vibrant, the art style is charming, the music is superb, and some of the motion control is enjoyable, although "some" is a very important qualifier in this case (more on that topic in the future). Conceptually, the puzzles and secrets are as clever and inventive as ever.

The game's implementation is another story. As I wrote last week, Hanah and I are playing the game together, and our unique gripes about the game started me thinking: who is Skyward Sword's intended audience? I get exasperated by the didactic tutorial sequences, the slow storytelling pace, and the inexcusable technical snafus (such as irritating load times and weird motion control). My wife gets irritated by the game's demanding difficulty and obscure quest design. We are both annoyed by inexplicable rule changes and poorly telegraphed action sequences that both assume a level of familiarity with other game conventions that are neither taught to the player nor suited the franchise's historical design.

Making a game for "everybody" is a dangerous course of action, but one that Nintendo probably felt compelled to pursue. After all, the Wii's accessibility was the key to its success, so it's understandable that Skyward Sword would be slowed down and simplified for an audience comprised largely of first-timers. Simultaneously, Zelda is one of the few reasons "core" gamers still come back to Nintendo year after year. Skyward Sword needed to meet their expectations as well. Combine all this with a rapidly changing industry landscape (one that has shifted sharply away from Japanese RPGs and towards action-oriented, set piece games) and you have the recipe for an exceedingly strange brew.

Playing Skyward Sword has been a mixture of pleasure, frustration, and outright confusion. It doesn't feel like it was made for any single type of person, and thus ends up feeling like it was made for no one.

EXP Podcast #155: 2012 Predictions

2012-01-11T15:18:00.000-08:00

We have consulted the Mayan calendar, had a chat with John Cusack, and returned with our prediction on games, habits, and hardware for the coming year. This time we take a scatter shot approach, going down a long list of topics and releases in hopes of sharing out quick thoughts on almost every 2012 issue on the horizon. Naturally we missed out on something you are eagerly awaiting. Let us know what that is in the comments section below. Again, happy new year and we look forward to discovering what the future actually holds.

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 34 min 45 sec
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Some Past Reviews

2012-01-10T17:51:00.000-08:00

As a result of a fast moving schedule and a gradual multimedia posting schedule, I have neglected to discuss three game reviews I have written over the past few months. I want to spend some time talking about writing these reviews, what thoughts went into it, and a bit about the games themselves, none of which I have yet talked about in posts or on the podcast. To read the reviews, just click on the titles. In the future, I promise to bring your attention to these posts a little sooner. If you have plated any of these, I would also love to hear your thoughts.

Magic The Gathering: Duels of the Planeswalkers 2012: Ascend Into Darkness

Yikes! I wrote this back in October (and wow, what a mouthful of a title).

This was an interesting one to write because it brought up all my memories of playing MtG back in grade school. In the seventh grade, when some of my friends started getting into recreational drug use (kids these days), I started getting into epic Magic battles scheduled nearly every day in the library during lunch time. By high school I was slightly more cool, but still played with friends and even frequented weekly Magic tournaments at Clark's, a comic book and game store that hosted matches in the cramped and poorly ventilated back room. I was just a kid with very little money to invest in building a solid deck, but I admired the game and its skilled players nonetheless.

Today I still have a hefty collection of Magic cards and a favorite deck of mine I built later in life when I had some extra cash to spurge on my childhood dream. If you are ever in the Bay Area, I will absolutely play with you in person, which offers a special experience the xbla version of Magic cannot provide. That being said, the game is still as sharp as ever. Wizards of the Coast has refined the formula over the years and today, after instituting some prudent cuts into the bloated collection of rules and cards collection, still put out the best collectible card game on the market. I miss the days when I was "in it," and Duels of the Planeswalkers brings some of that back to me.

Crimson Alliance

Few people enjoy writing a bad review for a game, so I will leave this part short. After writing this review, I ventured online to see what other critics thought of the game and was surprised to find a decent number of positive reviews. Where I saw a deliberate abuse of genre conventions others saw a decent four-player dungeon crawler. I understand the game might scratch an itch, but it irritates me knowing Crimson Alliance does so without trying to add upon, or even respect, the existing fantasy/dungeon-crawler formula. This is fast-food gaming.

Professor Layton and the Last Specter

Playing Professor Layton always fills me with child-like wonderment. I can only equate the sensations I get from playing the series to the sensations I get from watching Studio Ghibli films. They are both otherworldly and comfortably familiar simultaneously. While Last Specter is certainly the worst in the franchise, it still delivers on tone and atmosphere familiar to Layton fans. I am eager to see what Level-5 can do with the Nintendo 3DS for both their animation and their puzzle design.

Oh. In reverence to the spirit of the Layton series, I hid a simple word puzzle in the review, which made this a treat to write. See if you can figure it out.

Playing Dark Souls Desperate Acts and Our Shared Humanity

2012-01-05T22:40:00.000-08:00

My latest PopMatters article is now live: Playing Dark Souls: Desperate Acts and Our Shared Humanity.

I almost called this article "Why Playing Dark Souls is Like Chopping Your Own Arm Off." I try to keep an inspirational tone throughout the piece, which I really do feel while playing the game. I also feel an immense amount of frustration. Most of the time my frustration stems from my own failings than the game system itself, and more importantly, how little the game respects my time. Like its predecessor, Dark Souls lacks a pause feature. OK, I get it. I need to fully commit to playing, I cannot go in half-hearted. I respect that philosophically. In fact, that plays right into the sensations evoked by Danny Boyle's take on Ralston's experience. Even the way I learn to defeat minions and bosses on the way to the next bonfire demands I do it all at once lest I forget.

Unfortunately, I cannot feet Dark Souls easily into my normal life. I cannot always commit to hour-long play sessions, particularly free of interruption. I might get a phone call, or have get a call from by boss, and have to frantically find a place to rest while spending every minute outside the game trying to remember the dance maneuvers that will save my life when I go back in. I am sad to admit this, but I do not think Dark Souls is a game I will finish. That being said, I welcome your pep talks.

Now on a slight tangent. I realize 127 Hours came out awhile ago, but I found the film immensely compelling. Boyle gorgeously lavishes our human capacity to overcome challenges and even our own mistakes. I would almost call it a "feel good" movie even though it is about a man who chops his own arm off.

However, there are darker tales of our universal humanity. For example, Into Thin Air chronicles author Jon Krakauer's trip up Mt. Everest on which eight people lost their lives in a single night. I implore you: read this book. It will keep you thinking well after the final pages have turned. Whereas Boyle shows the human capacity to overcome great obstacles, Krakaur shows how humans can also succumb to their own egos, frailties, selfish whims, and ignorance when faced with these same obstacles. The book frighten you with its critique of mistakes any of us could make. Indeed, we all make mistakes all the time, and in extreme circumstances, this mistakes are revealed to be monstrous and grotesque. I love Dark Souls for the universal humanity it depicts on the apex of tenacity, but I also want to clime that mountain and find only human remains, the bones of all the fools that have come before.

EXP Podcast #154: 2011 Games of the Year

2012-01-04T10:00:00.000-08:00

It's that time of the year again, folks: time to pick our game of the year! Jorge and I could never pick just one (or could we...?), so we each pick three of our favorite games from 2011 and talk about what makes them great. It was a great year, if I do say so myself, and our lists reflect the many diverse and memorable titles released over the past year. Of course, we don't come close to discussing all the great games of 2011, so we're looking forward to hearing your favorites in the comments! Happy New Year and thanks for listening!

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

SPOILER WARNING: Our picks are included below

Jorge's Games of the Year:

Skyrim
Bastion
Portal 2

Scott's Games of the Year:

don't take it personally, babe, it just ain't your story
Lesbian Spider-Queens of Mars
Portal 2

- Run time: 34 min 53 sec
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Zelda for Two

2012-01-03T22:18:00.000-08:00

Honestly, it took some will power to step away from The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword long enough to write this. I'll share some in-depth thoughts about the game itself and its place in the series in the coming weeks, but today I want to take a different approach. As it stands now, it's not necessarily the game itself that keeps drawing me in, but the way I'm playing it. For the first time ever, I'm doing a collaborative playthrough of a Zelda game. My wife Hanah is making her first foray into the Zelda universe, while I am a grizzled veteran of the series. Together, we make an odd couple, but our partnership has been made the experience uniquely enjoyable.

If you're being charitable, you could call Skyward Sword rooted in tradition. Some would argue that "repetition" is a better word. Either way, there is little denying that Zelda games have a specific formula. Playing with Hanah is refreshing because she hasn't grown accustomed to the formula yet. I know that we're almost done with the first three primary dungeons and we haven't yet filled out our inventory, which means there are likely four to seven more second-wave dungeons to go. I know exactly what happens when you catch a fairy in a bottle. I've done the ghostly toilet paper quest before. But to Hanah, this is all new and the novelty she experiences offers a vicarious excitement.

It's also nice to have someone to diffuse my nerd rage and generally jaded outlook. Ultimately, it really doesn't matter that they Link isn't a lefty in Skyward Sword, and the fact that there are hidden treasure chests all around the world is actually pretty neat. Playing along with someone who is relatively new to the universe is an easy way to appreciate the things I usually take for granted. Thanks to my prior knowledge, we can quickly cut through the extraneous dialogue and didactic explanations of basic moves and get back to what makes a Zelda game special: encountering the unexpected. Thanks to Hanah's patience for questing and item collection, I've paid more attention to the crafting system than I would have on my own. As was the case in Twilight Princess, the world is crawling with insects to catch and utilize. Thanks to my wife's interest, they are more than simply moving scenery this time around.

Of course, not everything in Skyward Sword is a re-hash. Thanks to its extensive use of motion controls, it's a new experience for even long-time Zelda players. Testing the capabilities of the Wii Motion Plus by experimenting with the new swordplay techniques, item capabilities, and even Link's basic movement is an adventure unto itself. Since the motion invalidates a good chunk of my prior skills, we're both analyzing the best tactics to employ. We've already had some in-depth discussions about the game's design choices that, in retrospect, were worthy of a podcast.

While Skyward Sword hasn't always been the most intuitive or technically polished adventure (for example: a malfunctioning nunchuk hampered the first few hours of our journey), it has been a memorable one. Skyward Sword is a dramatic departure for the series in a variety of ways, and it's been nice to have a companion in this brave new world that has such waggle in it.

New Year's Resolutions, 2012

2011-12-29T16:10:00.000-08:00

It's hard to believe that we've reached the end of another year. For the most part, I'm happy to see it go: 2011 had more than its fair share of rough spots. Thankfully, through all the tumult, I still had video games and a forum in which to discuss them. It's nice to have a daily routine that is both structured and creative; something that keeps all the corners of my mind from gathering dust. In the spirit of staving off stagnation, I always take some time at the end of the year to reevaluate what I've been doing and what I'd like to do in the next three hundred and sixty-five days.

Now that I've done this for a few years, I can also see how I've kept up with some past goals. Last year, I resolved to broaden my horizons regarding the types of games I played. Additionally, I expressed my interest in venturing away from the major release track and exploring the independent and experimental game scenes.

Overall, I think this plan was a success: thanks to our periodic Indie game podcasts and a concerted effort to pay attention to lesser-advertised games, I was exposed to a pretty eclectic batch of games. Inside a Star-filled was an classic shooter with a philosophical slant. The Cat and the Coup was a pleasant adventure game and a much-needed history lesson. Don't take it personally, babe... reintroduced me to interactive-fiction and reminded me how terrifying high school is. A variety of other independent and browser-based games reminded me how varied the medium actually is and that innovation does not necessarily require millions of dollars and a huge R&D team.

In a way, this resolution may have been too successful: I still haven't played some of the biggest mainstream games of the year. Skyrim is no where on the horizon, Dark Souls has been passed by, and I just now started Skyward Sword. Within the next few weeks, I'm hoping to fill in the biggest hole in my 2011 release list: Portal 2. I played the first game over a year late, so I guess it's fitting that I neglect the second one as well.

All this brings me to my first resolution: to strike a balance between playing major releases and independent titles. Both spheres are important, but I'm still trying to figure out how to balance my attention between the two of them without swinging wildly between extremes.

My second resolution relates to another strange section of the video game landscape: Facebook. As regular readers and listeners know, Jorge and I have been exploring the weird world of Facebook games recently. Going in, I had the stereotypical prejudices of a "hardcore" gamer: Facebook "games" hardly deserved the title. They were unethical, get rich quick schemes that extracted time and money from players without giving anything back in return. However, after more than a month of experimenting with a small selection of games, I find some of my assumptions crumbling. It's been nice having some of my prejudices challenged, and I'm looking forward to articulating some of my findings in the coming months by both playing more Facebook games and giving them the critical treatment most non-social games get these days.

If this sounds like I've gone off the deep end and joined the cult of social games, fear not. My third resolution is squarely within the realm of "traditional" video games: I want to build a sweet gaming PC. I haven't had a PC capable of playing games since college (and the one I had then was still a clunker), so it's been far long. The advent of Steam and the indie scene's proliferation makes the PC the most versatile, democratic, and sophisticated gaming platform out there. All that being said, I'm somewhat anxious about the process: it's been a long time since I've assembled computer parts myself and the freedom you gain in the PC world often comes at the expense of a console system's reliability. It'll undoubtedly be an adventure, one I'll share with you all, regardless of how many things explode.

So there you have it: a quick recap of last year's goals and a few new ones to tackle in 2012. Now, I'll cede the floor: Do you have any video game related New Year's resolutions?

Thanks to everyone for visiting the site. Jorge and I look forward to seeing you in 2012 (assuming the Mayan apocalypse doesn't destroy us all)!

EXP Podcast #153: Too School For Cool

2011-12-28T11:41:00.001-08:00

Normally I try to think about high school as little as possible. But recently Kirk Hamilton of Kotaku asked us all to revisit our bygone days and think about high school as an interesting setting for videogames. This week on the EXP Podcast, Scott and I put on our school colors and discuss our experiences with media set in high school and the trials and tribulations of our collective youths that might make us turn on our console to visit, of all places, our own high school experiences. We encourage you to read Kirk's original piece, which you can find in the show notes below. We also want you to leave your thoughts in the comments section below.

Discussion starters:
- What games set in high school have interested you and why?
- What high school experiences lend themselves well to gaming?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 31 min 10 sec
- "High School Sucked, Can We Please Have More Games About It?," by Kirk Hamilton via Kotaku
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

2011 Runners Up

2011-12-27T22:53:00.000-08:00

The year is coming to end. It is time to round up our top gaming experiences of 2011. Before I collect my personal favorites for the EXP Podcast or for PopMatters, I want to discuss three games that will not make my list, but nevertheless delivered some the best gaming moments I experienced this year.

Assassin’s Creed: Revelations

I have shared my thoughts on both the terrible feature creep plaguing Revelations and the interesting narrative directions Ubisoft took Ezio. The single-player portion of the game differs only slightly from its predecessors and manages to mostly satisfy when not playing the irritating tower-defense components of the game. The multiplayer, however, deserts a heaping amount of praise. Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood introduced the groundbreaking game of deadly hide-and-seek in which assassin’s simultaneously hide amongst crowds of character models, some of which match their own, and stalk their prey through these same crowds, looking for the hint of bizarre movement that separates player from computer AI. I implore you: Play either Brotherhood’s or Revelations’ multiplayer game and experience one of the most interesting and unique competitive games available.

While Revelations keeps the formula relatively consistent, it does sharpen some of its features, such as refining player radar detection. It also features a traditional “deathmatch” mode, which removes the “hiding-amongst-AI-clones” element by giving players unique character models. I initially disregarded this mode as a hastily put-together addition. Now I realize it instead polishes the sensation of the hunt, requiring players use a sharp eye and quicker fingers to take down components who know exactly what the hunter looks like. Revelations might not make my short list, but its multiplayer remains as rock solid as ever and one of the year’s highlights.

Batman: Arkham Asylum

Rocksteady’s superhero star came out in 2009, but I failed to pick it up until just a couple months ago, so forgive me for stating the obvious: good god Arkham Asylum is good. Batman is already a fascinating icon, and Rocksteady pulls few punches in treating the character as the troubled, mortal, and intelligent person he is. They also put so much care in character animations that I felt very much in control, embodying Batman perfectly. I felt more like Batman playing Arkham Asylum than I ever did dressing up as the caped crusader for Halloween. I was also enamored by the island mental institution and its brilliantly situated pathways through its ever changing landscape. I am incredibly excited to watch Nolan’s Dark Knight Rises, but not as as excited as I was to get my hands on Arkham City, which just might reappear again on a year-end list.

Minecraft

Considering I first played Minecraft in 2010, I am hesitant to list the game on my own Game of the Year list. However, its official release occurred this past month, and it would be remiss to ignore what is undoubtedly a groundbreaking and phenomenal experience because of its strange release history. My highlights in the world of Minecraft include frantic journeys through darkened forests looking for a trace of the signal fire above my base and wandering around an immense cave system, refusing to leave until I had lit every shadowed corner. I also spent several nights exploring multiplayer servers, most notably a scale model of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middlearth built by committed fans and, without a hint of sarcasm, digital engineers. Today I rarely explore the cubed world of Minecraft, but when I do, I spend days imagining possibilities, mapping out a gorgeous base, investigating the work of others, then becoming disheartened by all the beautiful contraptions and fantasy islands I will never create. Minecraft is a world of the imaginary that takes a surprisingly large effort to shape to ones liking, but its allure is everlasting. For that alone it deserves my attention as one of the best games of the year.

Gamer Gifting

2011-12-22T23:24:00.000-08:00

The holiday season has arrived! Although PopMatters is taking the week off, I thought I would spend some time here anyway to chat a bit about gift giving and receiving. As geek afficianados yourselves, surely you have received all sorts of terrible "game-related" merchandise from well-wishing friends and family - a game for a console you do not own, Lego Harry Potter, or a pair of Mario themed undergarments perhaps. Everyone underestimates the difficulty of shopping for game related gifts for the nerds in their life for several reasons.

First, we probably already own it. Have you seen the Steam sales lately? You can purchase an entire studio's backlog of games for the price of a single game. With a new deal every day, I would be surprised if failed to buy more gifts for myself this year than for my family. Also, did you hear Steam was giving away a prize that would grant the winner every single game available on steam? Yes. You read that right. All the games. Also, with all the sequels that have come out, your gift givers will surely think you already own that Uncharted, Gears of War, Batman, etc. game.

Second, there are so many options. More importantly, most of these options look the same. Could your grandmother tell the difference between Brink and Rage? What about Dragon Age and Skyrim? Modern Warfare 3 or Battlefield 3? We have said this time and again, but the industry does not make games accessible to outsiders particularly well. Even the games that stand out - L.A. Noire or Deus Ex: Human Revolution, for example - seem questionable from the perspective of someone who thinks all games feature soldiers or hopping Italians. If family member is going to blow sixty dollars on a holiday gift, they will want to be certain they are making a smart choice. You can imagine, then, why a Gamestop might scare them off.

Solutions? Create a wish list, Steam and Amazon perhaps. Nothing helps a shopper more than an detailed list of gift ideas. You could also request gift cards. With so many great indie titles and DLC packs, some XBLA cash goes a long way. Alternatively, ask your friends and family to donate money to Child's Play or another charitable organization of your choosing. Who are you kidding any way. Your backlog is big enough without adding another game to the docket. Why not share the gaming love by helping out those in need. Your last option, of course, is to acknowledge that kind thoughts from loved one's are more important. Besides, who doesn't love Angry Birds pajamas?

EXP Podcast #152: Musings on Mandatory Missions

2011-12-21T10:00:00.000-08:00

Long before the advent of Achievement Points, players have chased after goals. But are all tasks created equal, or are some more important than others? This week, inspired by Wired's two articles on mandatory missions every well-informed gamer should undertake, we discuss some of the game experiences that give us common ground. As always, feel free to jump into the comments and share your thoughts. Thanks for listening!

Discussion starters:

- What do you consider to be mandatory missions?
- Is the idea of a set of canonical video game experiences useful or realistic?
- How has time and technology affected what we would consider to be defining video game moments?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 34 min 07 sec
- "9 Mandatory Missions All Gaming Geeks Must Master," via Wired
- "Readers’ Picks of 9 Mandatory Gaming Moments," via Wired
- An interesting interpretation of Portal: "Still Live? She's Free?" by Steve Bowler via Game-ism
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Favorites from Recent Years

2011-12-20T21:11:00.000-08:00

It's the time of year when everyone is either putting together "best of" lists or looking forward to 2012's releases. I'll be sharing my thoughts on both of these topics in the days to come, but today I'm going to slack off a little bit. The subtle, yet ever-present pressure to stay abreast of the latest releases is felt most acutely during the end of the year. Even so, I still can't help but come back to some of my favorites from recent years.

VVVVVV: It came out in 2010 and still manages to impress me every time I load it up. From a design perspective, it has some of the tightest, well-executed platforming dynamics of any 2D platformer. It's level design is inspired and the level editor lets you explore the game's surprisingly-complex dynamics. On top of all this, it's hard to find a more rocking soundtrack:

PixelJunk Eden: It's still my favorite PixelJunk game. Something about the mixture of intense skill challenges, ambient music, and psychedelic continually draws me back. It makes a certain amount of sense: the game is cyclical in nature. You start off by collecting a single spectra, build up to five, and then go back to one on the next level. You move by making wide, arcing jumps and spin in circles to collect points and time. I find myself looping back to the game every few months.

Vanquish: Another one of my favorite games from 2010. Despite it's fast-paced, chaotic environments, I find Vanquish strangely relaxing. Extremely precise controls and a heavy emphasis on tactics let's me achieve a flow state. When enemies attack, I know exactly what to do and how to do it. It's mixture of cover-based shooting and high-speed melee combat offers a compelling alternative to the Gears of War school of third-person shooter design.

New Super Mario Bros. Wii: New Super Mario Bros. Wii is a social game in the most traditional sense of the word. When people come over to my house, I still try to get them to play a few levels with me. Of course, playing NSMBW will test even the strongest relationships (I'm pretty sure "assault with koopa shell" is grounds for divorce in some states). Because of this, I usually play with my brother, as we are quite accustomed to each other's mischief. Our current mission is to get all of the end-game stars, which means finishing multiple playthroughs while achieving objectives like finding each star coin or dying a minimum number of times.

Looking back on this selection, I see a pretty accurate picture of my natural gaming proclivities. When I'm looking for video game "comfort food" I turn to skill-based games that test dexterity and quick thinking. I love games that take simple concepts and then iterate on them to find all their permutations. Apparently, it doesn't hurt if they do so in 2D perspective either.

The years have tendency to go by quickly, as do the games released each month. Sometimes it's nice to slow down in the middle of the year-end rush, revisit some modern classics, and savor the experiences that often get left behind. I'll go back to talking about recent games soon enough, but before I do, what are some of your favorites from recent years?

Shigeru Miyamoto's Working Retirement

2011-12-15T20:22:00.000-08:00

This week's PopMatters post is about a topic both Nintendo and I don't want to think about: Shigeru Miyamoto's retirement.

I try not to get too involved in Internet kerfluffles, but last week's mini-panic about Miyamoto's possible retirement caught my eye. For one thing, it was interesting to see Nintendo's immediate response to people's reactions. Change is scary, and Nintendo knows it: the company was quick to reassure people that nothing was changing, that no one would ever abandon them, and that all was well in Neverland. It's unusual for companies to make such honest requests as "Please do not be concerned," but such public exhortations become more understandable when you consider that Nintendo's stock was actually affected by what was basically a joke Miyamoto made during his recent interview with Chris Kohler.

It's only natural to worry about the future of storied franchises like Mario and Zelda when you hear that their creator is stepping down, but things become less worrisome when you look at the bigger picture. For over a decade now, Miyamoto has been more of a consultant than anything else. Judging by his comments in the interview, Miyamoto appreciates the importance of this position, and is looking to both cede authority and mentor up and coming developers.

To hear Miyamoto talk about retirement is to listen to a man who sees an opportunity rather than an ending. He mentions that he would like to be more involved in the design process, make smaller games, and work with young developers. Sometimes, life is poetically cyclical: Miyamoto got his start in the arcades and gradually transitioned to big-budget console games. Now, as his exit from that scene approaches, arcade-style games have experienced a resurgence thanks to the downloadable and mobile spaces. The medium has never been more accommodating of small and experimental projects.

We may never get another Ocarina of Time from Miyamoto, but based on his comments, it seems safe to assume that he isn't planning on simply walking away from video games. His interest in pursuing smaller, more personal games and his dedication to mentoring the next generation of developers means that the medium will continue to benefit from his experience and creativity for years to come. Miyamoto's willingness to pursue unorthodox ideas was what made his games great. It seems fitting that his version of "retirement" holds the potential to carry on this innovative spirit. Miyamoto defined his generation of game designers in the 1980s and 1990s. Is it any surprise that he is trying to blaze a trail towards a new stage in life as he and his cohort approach retirement?

EXP Podcast #151: We Got Next

2011-12-14T18:10:00.000-08:00

No matter how many hours Scott and I spend playing, analyzing, and writing about games, there are still so many sub-cultures to which we remain largely ignorant. Competitive gaming, particular around the fighting game genre, continues relatively under the radar of both gamers and the public. I Got Next, a recently released documentary by first-time film maker Ian Cofino seeks to shine some light on the relationships players have with Street Fighter and its competitive gaming community. This week on the podcast, Scott and I discuss the movie, competitive gaming at large, and the fascinating community of Street Fighter players, friends, and rivals. As always, we encourage you to leave your thoughts in the comments section below. If you would like to watch the film before listening to the podcast, you can find a direct link to the Hulu source in the show notes.

Discussion starters:
- What are your experiences with competitive gaming?
- How might the competitive scene change if it were taken more seriously by the public? Is there something about gaming culture impeding its progress?
- What are your thoughts on the film?

To listen to the podcast:
- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 36 min 47 sec
- I Got Next, via Hulu
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

The End of Ezio

2011-12-13T13:30:00.000-08:00

Warning: This post contains spoilers for Assassin’s Creed: Revelations.

I am a long time fan of the Assassin’s Creed series, particularly its atmosphere and attention to detail. However, Desmond, the series protagonist, has barely piqued my interest in the slightest. Sure, I enjoy the mysteries of the Assassin brotherhood in modern times, and the always fabulous voice acting from good ol’ Nolan North, but the blank slate hero does nothing for me. Ezio, on the other hand, is actually a compelling character. After three back-to-back games with the Italian assassin taking the lead, I am ready for Signore Auditore to go, but I also have enough interest in the story to make sure Ubisoft manages his departure well.

Altair, the lead from the first Assassin’s Creed, received plenty of criticisms as a character. He comes off as shallow and uninteresting, and the sub-par voice acting did him no favors. Ubisoft surely took this precedent to heart when fashioning Ezio. From the beginning, Ezio has a family, love interests, siblings, and generally maintains clear motivations to pursue his work throughout. He also grows as a character through his three entries into the franchise - a startling departure from industry norms, I know. By the end of Revelations, Ezio retires from the franchise, and the Assassin lifestyle, with honor.

Ezio’s most interesting characteristic has been his understanding of the larger game narrative. He is not an unknowing avatar of Desmond. This fits very much into the series’ acknowledgement and inclusion of game tropes into the story. The user interface, the load screens, even player failure, all make sense within the narrative of the animus - Desmond’s, and by extension the player’s, entryway into the past. Assassin’s Creed manages to reveal the fourth wall without breaking it, wholly accepting “gamey” contrivances within the fiction of the world. Ezio plays his role within a larger narrative of which he is aware.

When the apparitions of the first civilization reveal themselves to Desmond through Ezio, for just a moment the game becomes incredibly meta. The creators of hidden secrets, the “designers” of Desmond’s fate, reveal themselves to Desmond, the “player”, through the intermediary of Ezio, the “character”. Assassin’s Creed is a story of a videogame character who becomes self-aware, knowledgeable of a secondary existence outside their own, a piece within some stranger’s personal story.

How does Ezio react? By continuing to fulfill his role. Ezio’s actions become more heroic when considering his relationship to Desmond/the player. It is rare to feel as though a character has agency outside the player without removing interactivity. Ezio, in a bizarre way, maintains a unique layer of self-awareness while also fitting naturally within the fiction of the Assassin’s Creed universe. At the end of Revelations, Ezio speaks directly to Desmond, aware that he is listening, and states “I am only a conduit for a message that eludes my understanding.” He recognizes his minimal role with a larger story that encompasses the entire series. As I sat on my couch, I heard Ezio speak, at least partially, to me. Setting the tools of his trade aside, Ezio departs the series not as an extension of my will, but as a compatriot on one leg of my journey as a player.

The Logic and Illogic of Skyrim

2011-12-08T20:24:00.000-08:00

My latest PopMatters article is now live: The Logic and Illogic of Skyrim

Until Skyrim, I had never played an Elder Scrolls game. Apparently I have been missing out on one of the most epic fantasy RPGs franchises available. I really did not enjoy my time with Fallout 3, so I had written off Skyrim initially. Then I started hearing stories. Early responses to the game barely scratched the surface of its actual mechanics and instead dished out amazing tales of encountering demigods in hidden corners of the world, or changing upon dwarven ruins while navigating the jagged rocks of looming mountain. Listening to people talk about Skyrim can feel like listening to people sharing legends. The logic of Skyrim can turn play into a mythological experience.

Allow me to describe the moment I was hooked into the world: It was my first time leaving the village of Whiteru. I had explored a nearby ruin before and explore the surrounding area superficially, but I had never strayed far from the safety of the town. In the dark of knight, I chanced upon an area full of steam vents and hot springs. I was elated and went splashing about the pools. When I looked up, I caught a glimpse of dark wings blotting out the stars and diving behind a tree. I felt as though I was being hunted, and a chill went up my spine.

I thought I knew what an open world could be. I was so, so wrong. Skyrim is so consistent and realized that it is hard to stay away. I find myself avoiding the main quest lines just to explore the world more and discover more hidden treasures. Sometimes I play specifically to undertake certain quests. Other times I just wander from town to town, hoping to encounter some strange mystery along the way.

Of course the game's many absurdities stand out, partially because everything else is so clean. Yes, I can put a bucket on someone's head and then rob their home without them noticing, and yes, sometimes dragon skeletons move of their own accord, rolling over themselves like an energetic puppy. I do my best to look away, to keep that fourth wall solid and impenetrable. Ignoring the game's most obvious blunders is not easy, but it is very much worth it. When I am truly lost in Skyrim, when I am fully immersed, it will take more than an glitchy dragon or a wandering head of cabbage to shake me out.

EXP Podcast #150: First Facebook Forum

2011-12-07T10:00:00.000-08:00

Admit it: You didn't think we would do it, did you? You thought all our talk of investigating Facebook games was brought on by too much turkey and an overabundance of holiday spirit. Today, Jorge and I are happy to present to you a conversation about our initial experiences with a handful of Facebook games. In addition to the games themselves, we discuss the nature of social games, monetization, and ethical design. As always, we look forward to hearing your thoughts and we invite you to join our experiment by befriending us on Facebook. Thanks for listening!

Here are our dedicated Experience Points Facebook accounts:

Jorge's account
Scott's account

Discussion starters:

- What are some of your favorite Facebook games?
- For those of you who play them, how do the social aspects of Facebook games influence your behavior while playing?
- What game genres are still underrepresented on Facebook?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 40 min 34 sec
- Games discussed
- Ravenwood Fair
- The Sims Social
- Hero Generations
- Dragon Age Legends
- PixelJunk Monsters
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

A Potential Ambassador

2011-12-06T20:43:00.000-08:00

A while back, Jorge shared some thoughts on potential cultural ambassadors that could bridge the divide between video games and other media. When it comes to this topic, I'm usually of the mind that video games should send their stars outward instead of recruiting flag bearers from the outside. Having Martin Scorsese direct a video game might attract a few newcomers, but I think having Will Wright do the talk show circuit would raise more awareness for the medium in general. However, a recent podcast has me rethinking this opinion, at least as it pertains to one person: Guillermo del Toro.

I don't know much about del Toro's game, Insane (no one does yet). But after listening to the last two episodes of the Irrational Games podcast, I want to believe that del Toro is the real deal. Although he's best known for his directing and writing accomplishments, it at least sounds like he's taking the right approach to directing his first video game. Here are a few of the reasons why:

He Actually Plays Games

What a concept right? Actually, it seems like many film directors, including the ones who make movies based on games, don't have a huge amount of experience playing games. Del Toro is able to keep up with Ken Levine and Julian Murdoch, two sharp minds when it comes to games. He readily cites examples of his favorite moments in games and makes it clear that he's followed the medium for some time. This gives me confidence that he's aware of design trends and how players interact with game systems.

He Can Think Like a Designer

On a related note, one of my favorite bits from he conversation was del Toro's description of what he and his team do after designing a sequence in Insane. After constructing a sequence meant to convey certain themes and create a specfic experience, he asks "What would the asshole do?" Del Toro repeatedly acknowledges the unpredictable dynamics of player agency, which suggests he is thinking about story telling as a series of actions and reactions instead of a linear narration. No matter how hard you work to create an illusion in a game or funnel the player through a tightly controlled sequence, there will always be people looking to tweak the system. Every developer tackles this challenge in a different way, but it's reassuring to hear del Toro openly embracing it.

He's Enthusiastic

It's difficult not to become infected by del Toro's gusto. He's candid and outspoken about his successes and failures. It's easy for him to say that he's not simply stamping his name on Insane, but his past works and overall view of video games suggest that he wouldn't be doing this if he didn't truly care about it. Films like Pan's Labyrinth and Hellboy were clearly labors of love, and much of his excitement regarding video games stems from the potential of the medium itself rather than his specific game.

In this regard, he sounds very similar to people like Ken Levine or Peter Molyneux, people deeply committed to their own games, but also to the craft of storytelling. Regardless of how successful Insane ultimately is, del Toro's philosophy gives me hope that it will at least be a very interesting game.

Del Toro isn't the most mainstream Hollywood figure, but after listening to his passion for video games, I have high hopes for his ability as a cultural ambassador. Judging by the sound of it, he's working hard to make sure anyone he introduces to video games for the first time has a valuable experience.

Brave Design in Ico

2011-12-01T19:47:00.000-08:00

This week's PopMatters post is about some of the brave design choices in Ico.

I like playing an old game in the midst of new release season, because it helps put contemporary titles into perspective. Ico came out ten years ago, but many things about it still feel unique. I recently played through Ico again while reviewing The Ico & Shadow of the Colossus Collection and was struck by how risky the game felt in retrospect.

I had forgotten how quickly you are thrown into the game. Without any kind of tutorial, the game simply starts and lets the player learn how to navigate through experimentation. The game requires constant action: the lack of automation and quicktime events means you're responsible for making every jump and for helping Yorda over the course of the entire game. In 2001, the move towards more tightly controlled, streamlined experiences was well under way. Today, a game without an explicit tutorial and heavy automation is almost inconceivable.

Most games go to great lengths to pursue the player's attention. Flashy special effects, huge set piece moments, and extensive dialogue are standard features in most games, but Ico takes different road. Ico manages to feel large in scope without trading in bombast. Many of its most striking features are tied to its subtlety: the castle's soundtrack consists largely of wind and birds. Creaky machinery and worn stonework quietly tell the story of the game's world. Ico and Yorda's relationship is built up mostly through actions. It shows a lot of faith in the player: instead of being fed a story, you have to look for one and interpret things for yourself.

It can be hard to find thoughtful, thematically challenging games outside of the indie scene. Part of this is understandable: if you don't hook a player and keep them hooked, there's nothing stopping them from switching to another game. In some ways, it's very understandable that games assist the player and constantly present them with new stories and plot twists; it's a crowded market and people have plenty of choices when it comes to spending their time and money.

Because of this Ico strikes me as a very bold game. It requires more active investment in everything from the jumping dynamics to interpreting the story. It may have paid for its eccentricity during its initial release, but its lasting reputation and subsequent re-release vindicates Team Ico's brave choices.

EXP IndieCast #9: 2D Literacy

2011-11-30T17:25:00.000-08:00

This week on the EXP IndieCast, Scott and I are joined once again by game designer Nels Anderson, who's recent Montreal International Game Summit talk sparked a lively conversation about systems literacy, 2D indie-darlings, old television shows, player expectations, and so much more. Give this elongated episode and listen and let us know your thoughts by leaving your comments below. As always, you can find bonus material in the show notes below.

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 1 hour 4 min 44 sec
- "MIGS Slides and Talk Text," via Above49 by Nels Anderson
- Everything Bad is Good for You by Steven Johnson
- Thinking in Systems by Donella Meadows
- House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Assassin's Creep

2011-11-29T13:42:00.000-08:00

I don’t know about you, but I was shocked to encounter tower defense elements in my Gears of War 3. To be blunt, I absolutely hate tower defense. Wave after wave of enemies flood into your base at predictable intervals while you stand aside and watch turrets do all the work. Tower defense is a genre made for armchair strategists.

Much to my surprise, the tower defense elements incorporated into Gears of War 3 enhance the game’s Horde Mode amazingly well. Horde Mode, like its tower defense cousin, has sent predictable waves at players since it first appeared in the series. The ability to construct turrets, barricades, and even mechanized suits of armor, naturally extend the genre’s features into the shooter. Many of the features simply act as extensions to the cover-based philosophy in which the landscape defines player behavior. It all makes sense!

But why is there tower defense elements in Assassin’s Creed: Revelations? Here I am, climbing the rooftops of Constantinople, executing Templar guards left and right, stalking my prey from the rooftops, when suddenly: tower defense! Set up barricades, place archers on roof tops, rinse, wash, repeat. The beauty of Assassin’s Creed is, and always has been, its vertical exploration of a rich historical atmosphere. The scenes in which Ezio must defend assassin dens against waves of minions completely abandons the mechanical, aesthetic, and narrative core of the series. Since when does Ezio build barricades? And why can’t the Templars fire rifles or arrows at their rooftop attackers, or climb up themselves for that matter? The tower defense moments make up only a small portion of Revelations. Regardless, Ezio should never have to debase himself with glorified turret placement and micromanagement.

Assassin’s Creed has succumbed to feature creep. Rather than let its mechanics evolve and mature naturally, esoteric pieces of other genres appear hastily forced into the stealth assassin formula in a bid to maintain interest in the franchise. Elaborate bomb crafting also bloats the series, offering players largely uninteresting combat tweaks that explode cracks into the game’s poorly adjusted AI. Enemies may hear an explosion, find the mangled corpse of an ally, and then trudge along their predetermined route anyway, completely oblivious to the proximity bombs littering their path. Worst of all, Revelations forces players to make use of the new features. The level design of certain scenarios demands players either utilize bombs or abandon stealth in favor of hand-to-hand combat (never the series’ strong suit).

The genre feature creep of Revelations seems the natural outcome of a yearly release cycle that threatens to bore players with repetition. We can expect no different next year, when Ubisoft will release yet another Assassin’s Creed title, this time featuring mushrooms that make Ezio grow taller.

Thanksgiving Break

2011-11-24T13:48:00.000-08:00

Experience Points, and PopMatters for that matter, is taking the holiday off. Before Scott and I engorge ourselves on seasonal feasts, we would like to think each and every one of you who frequents the site, reads our PopMatters articles, listens to the podcast, and share your comments with us. We are incredibly thankful to have spent the past three years with such a welcoming community. Thanks a bunch and we will be back next week!

EXP Podcast #149: Thanksgaming 2011

2011-11-23T11:00:00.000-08:00

It's Thanksgiving time here in the U.S., so Jorge and I decided to get into the spirit of the holiday. In this episode, we each pick a few video game concepts for which we are thankful and chat about the reasons behind our gratitude. We cover everything from Batman to sado-masochism, and we're looking forward to hearing about the game-related things that make you optimistic! Additionally, Jorge and I reveal our new initiative to learn more about a certain sizable, yet often under-analyzed, segment of the video game world and we solicit your help!

Discussion starters:

- What sorts of video game subjects or trends make you happy?
- Is there anything for which you are thankful that you originally disliked?
- What do think we'll find in our adventure into the wild blue yonder?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 28 min 59 sec
- Our dedicated Experience Points Facebook ccounts:
Jorge's account
Scott's account
- The infamous Minecraft housefire disaster:

- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Fusion Feedback

2011-11-22T17:22:00.000-08:00

It's the holiday season, which means I'll be joining the hordes of joyful people spreading holiday cheer through the nation's airports. Thankfully, my trusty travel companion, the DS Lite, will also be making the journey. I always get nostalgic during the holiday season, so I decided to play a game with connections to fond memories: Metroid Fusion.

Despite the Metroid Prime series' outstanding accomplishments, I still think of the series as a 2D institution. It's a bit strange, since I'm not necessarily an expert on the franchise: I vaguely remember Metroid, I never played Metroid 2, but I loved Super Metroid. After realizing that Metroid: Fusion, came from the same development team as Super Metroid and that it bills itself as "Metroid 4," I was more than a little excited to check it out. I'm not finished yet, and I thought I'd offer some thoughts that came to me during various take-off and landing sequences.

Metroid Has a Story

Somewhere along the line, the Metroid saga accumulated a surprisingly huge amount of lore. In my head, the game is basically a story-less shooter, but Fusion is introduced as "Metroid 4" deliberately. This is the same Samus we've known since the 1980s, and apparently her many adventures can theoretically be laid along some sort of linear narrative. At times, the plot veers into the realm of cheesy anime with overwrought dialogue and telegraphed plot twists. At this point I'm not quite sure whether I should be as confused as I am regarding all of the talk about X Parasites, Galactic Federations, and SR388s.

Looking back at Metroid: Other M now, I can see that the absurd characters didn't spontaneously appear. Reading Samus' clunky dialog and puzzling through the chain of events that left Ridley cryogenic status on a space station has reminded me that, unlike the Zelda series, the Metroid chronology is openly acknowledged. So far, there's been nothing so poignant as the baby Metroid's sacrifice at the end of Super Metroid, but I appreciate the effort (or foolhardiness?) it takes to try to maintain a consistent character.

Hardware Limitations Matter

Metroid Fusion feels very much like a shrunk-down version Super Metroid, but the transition was not without casualties. Most damaging is the loss of the two face buttons that happens when going from the Super Nintendo controller to the GBA. Without a dedicated button to select alternate weapons, the right shoulder button gets appropriated, which then shifts an aiming option over to the left shoulder button. The practical result is that aiming diagonally while moving becomes very difficult, since it involves using a shoulder button and the control pad to point in the correct direction.

Some limitations, like the loss of a dedicated dash button, lead to logical streamlining. Instead of actively choosing to dash, Samus will automatically pick up enough speed given enough room to run. Still, running sequences are always dwarfed by shooting sequences, and even after several hours of playing, I still find myself reflexively hitting the shoulder buttons to aim and being rewarded by a ridiculously errant shot.

Demanding Difficulty

These little control quirks are irritating, but most of my deaths were nobody's fault but my own. After all these years, Metroid still makes you earn your victories, especially against the bosses. I've seen people laud Dark Souls for similar reasons: the enemies have specific behaviors that can be exploited, but doing so requires concentration and manual dexterity. It's not enough to simply figure out how to beat an enemy, you have to execute your plan.

On-demand Playtime

Metroid: Fusion is creeping up on its tenth anniversary, and its structure shows how much mobile games have changed over the past decade. The game is structured exactly like a console game: you can only save at certain points on the map and any progress made must be hard-saved in order for it to count. Additionally, since it was a GBA game, closing the DS' lid does nothing to freeze the game's state. Choosing to play this game requires a level of commitment that is unheard of in today's DS/PSP/iOS landscape. Rather than conforming to your schedule, the game demands your attention by threatening your progress.

Even so, I'm more than happy to give in to Metroid: Fusion's demands. It has the same emphasis on combining strategic thinking and quick reflexes that Super Metroid possessed. The environments are a bit smaller, but there are still dozens of hidden powerups and secret passageways to seek out. 2D Samus doesn't change much, but there are enough small innovations (you can hang from ledges!) to make players who left their heart in Super Metroid feel comfortable without getting bored.

The game feels like visiting a friend after a long absence: they're essentially the same person, but with a couple of new quirks since you last saw them. In this way, Metroid: Fusion's identity as "Metroid 4" is quite fitting.

Overstaying Its Welcome: The Place of 'Uncharted 3' in the Medium

2011-11-17T19:14:00.000-08:00

This week's PopMatters post is about Uncharted 3's existential crisis.

That sounds a bit pretentious, but I can't think of a better way to describe the position the game finds itself in. On one hand, the Uncharted 3 is an elegant roller coaster: beautiful set pieces, excellent writing, and substantive characters funnel the player along a meticulously designed track. On the other hand, Uncharted 3 is a surprisingly traditional video game: it is unforgiving of mistakes during crucial action scenes, it's combat attempts to create dynamic situation over lengthy battles, and progression is marked by contrived difficulty spikes. The game goes to impressive lengths to craft a brisk, unique plot, but its arcade-like difficulty and repetitive environments give the gameplay a retro feel. It's as if you're playing an updated version of a sidescrolling brawler, with all the frustrating deaths those games entail.

Clearly, Naughty Dog loves the Indiana Jones series. Uncharted 3 is basically a love letter to Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Last Crusade Flashback that shows the childhood origins of the protagonist? Check. Scenes where the protagonist runs towards the screen, away from giant environmental hazards? Check. Caverns full of creepy crawlies? Check. Fist fights with freakishly-large enemy bruisers? Check. Chasing a jeep caravan through the desert on horseback? Check. The list goes on, but you get the idea.

Richard Lemarchand, co-lead designer of Uncharted 3, has stated that they wanted to make the video game version of a summer blockbuster. From a visual and tonal perspective, they are clearly on the right track. However, the gameplay violates key tenets of good action movies: the game is repetitive and it allows us to fail. Indy only runs away from one boulder, only encounters one cavern of snakes, and he only fights one huge brute. Things get dicey, but he never fails. In Uncharted 3, we play through the same basic action sequences (and climbing sequences, for that matter) multiple times, we repeatedly encounter supernatural spiders, and we fight gigantic dudes every couple of levels. Before too long, the mechanics lose their novelty. Waves of enemies, unexpected obstacles, and good old fashion cheap deaths detract from Nathan Drake's image as action hero who always makes it out of even the most helpless situations. Ultimately, Uncharted 3 commits the biggest mistake action movies can make: it gets dull.

Uncharted's cinematography and storytelling is the best in the business. It's become so outstanding that it has become incompatible with some of the most important traits of the video game medium. Games are excel at providing settings that allow us to experiment, challenge ourselves, and learn from failures. Repetition and iterative learning environments are what make games special, but action movies don't work that way. We don't want to see Indiana Jones fail to jump out of a burning building in time or spend half and hour shooting two-dozen faceless guards; we want to see him succeed. The same goes for Drake: seeing him repeat the same challenges and slogging through multiple botched firefights doesn't play to the game's strengths.

I think Uncharted 3 demonstrates that the series needs to move on and shed some of its more traditional game-like qualities. I have a number of ideas as to how this could be implemented (which I hope to share in the future), but for now I'll simply say that not all video game traditions are appropriate for modern titles.

In many ways, the Uncharted series is experimental: it pushes technological boundaries, explores the line between cut scenes and interactivity, and makes a huge effort to develop its characters. I think it's time for the series to bring this innovative spirit to the gameplay: shed the notion that a game needs to have so many levels or that mechanical challenge necessitates fail-states. I hope the next installment charts a course away from traditional shooters and game mechanics. If any series is in the position to explore the possibilities of "interactive experiences," as opposed to "games, it is Uncharted.

EXP Podcast #148: Uncharted 3 Debrief

2011-11-16T17:20:00.000-08:00

Naughty Dog's latest cinematic achievement can finally wow players with a heaping load of spectacle and a fair bit of Nolan North charm. Scott and I get in on the "taste for adventure" this week while we discuss Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception. In this longer-than-normal episode, we discuss a range of issues, from the game's gun-play to its lauded story to the future of our witty treasure-hunting hero. If you have joined in on Drake's adventure, we would love to hear your thoughts in the comments section below.

Discussion starters:

- What are your thoughts on the slightly revamped combat system in the latest Uncharted addition?
- Where would you like to see this franchise go?
- What are your thoughts on Naughty Dog's multiplayer pay wall?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 57 min 10 sec
- Music provided by Greg Edmonson via the Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception Original Soundtrack (from the tracks Nate's Theme and Second-Story Work)

Home Ownership

2011-11-15T21:44:00.000-08:00

Back in my World of Warcraft days, I often heard guild mates and fellow WoW players lament the absence of persistent character housing. Whenever Blizzard released an expansion, I always heard friends and acquaintances lament the absence of a place to hang their hat. I never quite understood the appeal of player housing. Of course I understand the values and feelings related to being at home, a sensation still too rare in videogames, but why bind players to one place in such an expansive world. What would I use a home for? Many hours into Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim and I am beginning to understand the value of hearth all my own.

Above is an image of my Argonian Skyrim character in my home. It is in the town of Whiterun, nestled conveniently next to a blacksmith and a public forge, where I can craft my tools of the trade. When I fast travel to town, the house is just a moments away. It started out a cobweb infested disaster, but like most player housing, I could upgrade it piece by piece. It comes with an alchemy station where I can brew my poisons and potions. It also has a pot for cooking up restorative cuisine using food items I encounter on my journey or any of the meats, herbs, and vegetables stocked in the nearby cupboard. Chests and bookshelves sit conveniently near both the fire and the alchemy table, allowing me to store provisions I will use for later.
It feels quite “homey” if I do say so myself.

The beauty of home ownership in Skyrim is its utility. There is so much crap in this game. If it is not bolted down, you can probably add it to your inventory. Go out for a quick mission and you will return with a pack full of mushrooms, thistle, butterfly wings, and dragonflies, not to mention pounds and pounds of armor you might sell off or disenchant. Much of this stuff can be used to craft items or enhance weapons, but not necessarily right away. Yet every character can only carry so much without slowing their movement down to a crawl. The solution? By a house and store your belongings knowing you will never have to fear bandits or thieves making off with the goods.

The bookshelves are also useful not only to store interesting pieces of game lore, but to keep recipe books or notes you might want to peruse later. The home also has a weapon rack and wall plaque. Mine carries a pick axe I only use when mining and a sword I mean to enchant soon. The plaque, however, carries a useless but ceremonial axe. See, I started viewing my house as a giant chest, now I view it as a place to store my memories. I have filled my bookshelves with selectively chosen tomes my character might read, stored interesting artifacts from my journey in various cupboards, and filled my dresser with outfits I snagged outside the walls of Whiterun. I have thus far shunned owning property in other towns and often return to my cabin before logging off. I even feel a new found attachment to the town citizens.Slowly but surely, I am turning my house into a home.

A Venue for Spectacle

2011-11-10T17:54:00.000-08:00

My latest PopMatters article is now live: A Venue for Spectacle.

One thing I neglected to discuss in this article about Michael-Bay-explosive grandeur is the audience. Do you know why Bay's awful films and Roland Emmerich's nonsensical storylines earn so much money? It is because millions and millions of people love to watch huge things destroy other huge things in large scale visual spectacles.

Games have capture immense scale amazingly well for some time now. Shadow of the Colossus is every bit as thrilling as an action packed adventure offered up by so many trash directors of Hollywood. However, not that the visual fidelity and richness of our digital worlds competes with, and surpasses, the sparkling effects of Transformers and 2012, games offer a new source of spectacle for all the men and women who just want to watch the world burn.

None of his is a value judgement on the desire to simply watch gorgeous action unfold over otherworldly and immense landscapes. Sometimes I am perfectly content with watching spectacular garbage. flung at the screen, especially in 3D. But as the medium proves itself as a viable venue, or even a replacement, for the adventure spectacle long-maintained by the film industry, an audience shift may alter the entertainment landscape. An influx of adventure junkies into the games community would likely alter cinema more than it would the games industry. Action directors may find themselves producing movies more akin to games than vice versa. However, more than likely things will still roughly the same. People will always spend good money on watching things sway, topple, and go boom - more than enough money to keep the spectacle coming in triple-A games and Oscar ignore cinema.

EXP Podcast #147: Simply Irresistible

2011-11-09T16:42:00.000-08:00

What is the point of doing something if there aren't any points to be won? Radek Koncewicz's post on the irresistible, but ultimately pointless actions we take in games inspired us to think about the little personal flourishes we add to our game playing experiences. Maybe you're one of those folks who had to catch the Super Mario Bros. 3 wands in mid-air, or maybe you're a strict adherent to the jumping screen shift in Mega Man. Whatever the case, games are full of irresistible opportunities to form personal habits that don't always have gameplay ramifications. As always, feel free to jump into the comments to share your personal quirks. Thanks for listening!

Discussion starters:

- What are some "irresistible" actions you take?
- What are some examples of actions that blur the line between subjective choices and those that have objective ramifications on the game?
- How do rewards, achievements, and stat tracking influence your dedication to forming unique habits within certain games?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 32 min 32 sec
- "The Irresistible," by Radek Koncewicz, via Significant Bits
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Presenting Grand Theft Auto

2011-11-08T15:59:00.000-08:00

Recently, Rockstar debuted the first trailer for Grand Theft Auto V. As is the case with most Rockstar trailers, it doesn't say much about the game's story or mechanics. Instead, like most modern Rockstar trailers, it focuses on introducing themes and setting the game's tone. After watching it, I took a quick trip down memory lane to compare the GTA V trailer to some of those made for the previous games. What I found happened to offer some insight into the last GTA game I played, GTA: Chinatown Wars.

GTA: San Andreas was the last hurrah for the PS2-era GTA games. The trailer wasn't as cinematic as subsequent ones would be, but it demonstrated how far Rockstar had come in terms of creating open worlds that possessed both distinctive settings and time periods.

Everything from the color palette, to the music, to the on-screen action sets up San Andreas as a sprawling period piece. The smoggy orange-and-brown hue of fake California and early 1990s hip hop draw inspiration from real places and the culture associated with them. Images of metropolitan sprawl and young black men clashing with police position the game as a broad take on relatively recent history. While you'll probably only control one character, the game is about more than an individual.

GTA IV's trailer was more ambitious, from both technical and thematic perspectives:

It took advantage of the more powerful hardware to draw clearer links between our world and GTA's fantasy environment. Everything from the geography to the textures mimicked New York. The tone of the trailer adopts a more sweeping scope. The operatic score suggests a darker story, and Nico's narration is serves a dual purpose. It introduces his personal plot, but also speaks to one version of the American immigrant experience. GTA IV is presented as more than a story about one man trying to start over: the trailer taps into larger issues and hints at whether starting over is even possible. GTA IV is a darker, more realistic shadow version of our world.

All of this makes GTA: Chinatown Wars seem like departure. A few months back, I played through Chinatown Wars and, while I enjoyed elements of it, the overall experience felt somewhat generic. The trailer encapsulates several reasons I found this to be the case.

As shallow as this may sound, I think GTA as a franchise has moved past stylized graphics. Thanks to the limitations of the hardware, characters and environments take on a cartoonish quality. Huang and the crooks he deals with start to resemble actual stereotypes rather than satires; the dumpy corrupt cop, the hot-tempered family scion, the Chinese dragon lady, and the evil Confucian kingpin seem too archetypal to succeed as satire.

The text frames the story as a more narrow, personal tale. Huang goes on about his personal quest for vengeance, his own family's honor, and his personal relationship to the criminal underworld. The trailer gives us little indication as to how his story fits into the larger society. True to its name, Chinatown Wars is made to feel like a parochial conflict off from the Liberty City saga. Unlike GTA: San Andreas and GTA IV, there is little commentary on the American cultural experience; this is just a private little war.

The entire package seems more detached than the previous two games. The game is defined by its traditional camera angle: instead of being immersed in a world at the street-level, you look at everything as a distant observer. From this perspective, Liberty City loses some of its distinctive atmosphere, and the characters become flat props used to cram in unimaginative jokes. It doesn't help that these supposedly Chinese gangsters often lapse into British-isms (hearing Triads say things like "buggered" and vowing to "Get this situation sorted" is jarring).

This isn't to say that the game wasn't enjoyable. I have probably spent more time with Chinatown Wars' drug dealing simulator than with all other side quests/mini games in all other GTA games combined. The mayhem, humor, and violence that define GTA is still present, but the cultural relevance and high production values that have come to define the series is missing.

All of this brings us back to GTA V's trailer:

If this clip is any indication, GTA V is a return to form. Dramatic music, bold cinematography, and a layered message suggests that Chinatown Wars' small scale was a momentary diversion. The narrator's story of chasing the westward dream seems realistic on both personal and social levels. For years, people have dreamt about starting anew in California, only to realize that their old problems followed them and that new problems were waiting.

Maybe it's fitting that GTA V is returning to its own twisted version of Hollywood. Chinatown Wars, a game that resembles GTA's beginnings now seems out of place next to the glamorous console productions. If its reception was any indication, people aren't interested in a visually simple, top-down GTA, even if it has most of the mechanical trappings of its big-budget brothers. It's no longer enough to let players steal cars, GTA has to walk the line between crude humor and sharp social commentary, all the while keeping with the visual styling of a Hollywood blockbuster.

'Masters of Doom:' A Great Man History of Gaming

2011-11-03T19:51:00.000-07:00

This week's PopMatters post is historically oriented: it's a review of David Kushner's book Masters of Doom.

The book's subtitle "How Two Guys Created an Empire and Transformed Pop Culture" is representative of its focus. Kushner uses the stories of John Romero and John Carmack to trace not only the rise of id Software, but the trajectory of the medium. This works because those two guys were largely responsible for some of the most important developments in gaming. Without Carmack, who knows how long it would have taken to figure out smooth scrolling on the PC? The entire PC graphics card industry was pushed forward by his drive for increasingly complex technical feats. His consistent programming advances defined the way 3D and first-person environments were conceived and created.

Romero (a talented programmer in his own right) was an early ambassador for what we might call "gamer culture." Not only did his design and artistic insights inspire a generation of players and designers, his persona transcended his games. For better or worse, Romero came to personify the brash, raucous style of gaming that came to define the first-person shooter genre. While his enthusiasm often got him into trouble (Daikatana), his passion for the medium compelled him to unashamedly extol its virtues.

The book was written back in 2003, which makes it interesting to see where Carmack and Romero have gone since then. Their strong personalities sent them on separate paths that seem consistent with their different philosophies. Carmack is still pursuing technical excellence, perhaps at the cost innovative design (Rage) and Romero has continued his search for the medium's frontier (his most recent work has been on Facebook games). I can't help but think about how well their skills complement each other. In many ways, the two Johns go together like Lennon and McCartney, but we all know how that ended up.

Masters of Doom is also a valuable book in a historiographic sense. Video game history, especially the cultural side of it, is still a relatively new field. Kushner's work recounts historical events in an engaging manner, but it also demonstrates a strategy as to how to produce such a project. The book relies heavily on interviews and personal archives rather than technical data and periodicals. It's difficult to tease out the stories when conducting oral histories, but Kushner backs up his exhaustive reporting with a variety of sources to form a credible, entertaining story.

Video games have only been around for fifty years or so, but it's certainly not too soon to start writing the medium's history. The video game world moves fast and, as Masters of Doom shows, there's value in documenting the past while the people who helped make it are still with us.

EXP Podcast #146: HD Recollections - Shadow of the Colossus

2011-11-02T16:20:00.000-07:00

We have crossed ancient lands, traversed architecturally unsound bridges of questionable origin, journeyed to the heart of this forgotten temple, and placed our mics upon a demigod's alter to bring you part two of our Team Ico focused podcasts. This week, Scott and I discuss the marvels of Shadow of the Colossus as well as historical collections of notable games in general. As always, we would love to hear your thoughts in the comments section below.

Discussion starters:

- If you played Shadow of the Colossus at launch, what were your first thoughts of the game?
- How does your play experience differ the second, third, and fourth time you play a game?
- What game series would you like to see given a collector's treatment?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 51 min 36 sec
- Music provided by Koh Ohtani from the Shadow of the Colossus Soundtrack.

Occupy Videogames!

2011-11-01T22:45:00.000-07:00

The Occupy protests, the mass movement of the ninety-nine percenters rallying against the endemic greed and exploitation of the other 1%, has been underway for months. From Wall Street to Oakland and beyond, the Occupy movement has been gaining traction and attention, and may be a historical moment that demands the critical eye of the gaming community. Where then are the serious (or humorous) games about the Occupy movement? Several games appeared in response to the revolution in Libya, not all tasteful, and the WikiLeaks affairs also resulted in a variety of interesting games, yet none have yet stepped forward to immortalize the relatively leaderless movement in the digital space. There are systems at work in the Occupy movement, and all games are systems. The following are several aspects of the Occupy movement that just might spark the interest of creative indie game designers out there.

Protest Management:
As Occupy sites across the nation, state and local governments have admonished protesters over ostensible health and safety concerns, going so far as to threaten and carry out the forced removal of campers. Clever activists in Wall St. and elsewhere have offered to monitor and maintain the health and safety of their own, establishing committee’s to manage trash disposal and cleanliness issues, distribute potable food and water, organize tent arrangements and more.

This level of protest management requires administrative skills and know-how well above the exploits of Farmville. You think harvesting tomatoes is difficult? Try distributing a limited supply of coffee to an army of snow-laden protesters eager for caffeine. What about handling and dispersing the influx of donations from across the nation to an ever changing band of activist squatters with a variety of needs and desires. If Sim City can model a system of political and economic restraints, then Sim Zucotti Park can model an even more unique structure of democratic camp management.

Rhetoric and Reason:
“What do we want!?” According to plenty of news outlets, the Occupy activists do not know or cannot agree. Of course this is a dramatic oversimplification of a more nuanced context. Quite a few activists agree about plenty of actual policies and plans government officials could enact - ranging from job relief efforts to the dissolution of banks "too big to fail." Alternatively, others veer away from demands and prefer to express a general form of antagonism toward structures of oppression, corporate and otherwise.

Professor Layton has a grand time solving the riddles of townsfolk, exploring the cast of characters at Occupy Wall St. could offer eve more insight and entertaining conversations. Understanding a collection variable narratives requires some work, but could be quite rewarding for players. Exploring the values and beliefs of protesters can feel like detective work, which could work perfectly in game - extra points for locating counter-dominant narratives that illuminate the level of discussion beyond news clip rabble. These games need not glorify the movement either. I would be interested to see games explore issues of inclusivity and disagreements. There are many interesting stories with which to interact.

Scale It Up:
The Occupy movement is active well beyond Wall St. Perhaps to the surprise of pundits and protesters alike, Occupy actions have cropped up in major cities across the nation, almost spontaneously. Anyone who has worked in the non-profit sector knows how laborious it can be to wrangle a diverse group of people together for a one day event. How has the Occupy movement sustained such numbers, even in the face of sometimes violent action against participants?

Large scale analysis of the Occupy protests from a state, national, and global level could prove both entertaining and educational. In a digital system, we could test hypotheses about resource investment, the spread of popular protests, and public reactions to changing contexts. Could you maximum your protest score by allocating enough resources to the right locations? Could you adapt a national movement according to law enforcement actions and weather conditions to create a persuasive force? There are large scale systems at work with every major movement, and now is a great time to explore these political and social systems at play.

. . . . . .

These are just a few ideas of interesting aspects of the Occupy protests that could inhabit the digital games space. There are, of course, many more options available. You could make an allegorical game - I would happily fight an octopus with a top-hat. Also, protests and marches might lend themselves well to game treatment, particularly when facing police forces. Of course game designers must always navigate carefully serious issues such as these. Make corralling protesters too much fun, you might get across precisely the wrong idea. That being said, the Occupy movement is the political zeitgeist of the moment and certainly deserves the attention of “serious games” developers. For now I will occupy this little corner of the internet, eager to see what you all create.

Commercial Success: Positioning Games in Pop-Culture

2011-10-27T14:36:00.000-07:00

My latest PopMatters article is now live - Commercial Success: Positioning Games in Pop Culture

This piece is just an exploration of how three commercials that have caught my attention and the attention of some other Moving Pixels writers position games within popular culture at large. But for this addendum, I want to talk a bit about gamer icons.

I have mixed reactions to watching Harrison Ford play Uncharted 3. One one hand, I find him genuinely charming, every bit representative of the swashbucklers he has played on the big screen. On the other hand, he is clearly getting old. I almost feel bad for the guy. Did Sony really need to trot out an aging icon to convince Japanese consumers to buy Uncharted 3? Couldn't they have connected video games to film culture differently?

This raises an interesting question. Setting aside the oft cited dilemma regarding game designer auteurs, who might we turn to for game icons and ambassadors? At first I thought of other actors. Ryan Gosling is an upcoming action star; maybe he could bring some credibility to the Driver series. Sure there are some actors out there who genuinely enjoy video games and the culture that surrounds them. If it were Nathan Fillion on the couch playing Uncharted, would he better convey the relationship between storytelling in film and storytelling in games? Maybe actors will always come off as artificial, never quite reflecting the unique place games hold in popular culture.

I then moved on to other creative minds. What if a famous director appeared in a commercial instead, conveying to the audience an appreciation for design. Spielberg knows about world building, maybe he could convey the awe of inhabiting a rich interactive environment with credibility. Someone could tell Christopher Nolan to talk to non-gamers about the value of games.

Ah, that brings up an even better games ambassador: Batman. Specifically, the transmedia icon occupies popular culture through a variety of media. Rather than scaring non-gamers off with that bar room full of frightening player avatars worshiping some guy named Michael, Sony could use Batman as a bridge between consumers of all forms of media. Nolan's Dark Knight, the animated version of the bat, and Rocksteady's bulky hero, could all say "I'm batman" and speak the truth. Check out this commercial for Arkham City Walmart put out. The game appears predominantly in the background, secondary to a comedic bit about the caped icon himself. In this approach, games are positioned as one piece of a larger pop culture diet, offering one aspect of a story that has transcended its original medium. He might not be an appropriate ambassador for all games, but I could be comfortable with Batman as my icon of choice. Yet the positioning of games in pop culture is far from over.

EXP IndieCast #8: Closed, Fantasy, and Aquatic Worlds

2011-10-26T14:58:00.000-07:00

It's time once again for an independent game roundup! This week, Jorge and I discuss A Closed World, A Tale By Alex, and Fisher-Diver. All three games are free to play and boast interesting mechanical and thematic features. Each game is thought-provoking and well-worth playing; we have a wide ranging conversation that encompasses everything from considering the difficulties of incorporating LGBTQ themes in games to hunting the most dangerous game. As always, thanks for listening and fell free to jump into the comments with your thoughts!

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 33 min 11 sec

Games:
- A Closed World
- A Tale by Alex
- Fisher-Diver

Additional reading on A Closed World:
- "A Closed World: A Game About LGBTQ Themes," by Hal, via GayGamer
- "Interview: How GAMBIT's A Closed World Tackles Sexuality, Identity," by Leigh Alexander, via Gamasutra
- "'A Closed World' and thoughts on gay video games." and "LGBTQ game design knife fight!" by Robert Yang
- "a closed mind," by Anna Anthropy
- "Anna Anthropy on 'A Closed World,'" by Christine Love

- Music provided by Brad Sucks

A Fall Classic

2011-10-25T21:54:00.000-07:00

If you've been watching the World Series (and chances are you haven't), then you've been treated to a particularly exciting contest. The Rangers and the Cardinals might not be the biggest names in the league, but they've put on an exciting show. I still have a soft spot for Tony LaRussa thanks to his time with the A's, but I'm mainly rooting for the St. Louis in hopes of getting to see a seventh game. Today's a travel day, so at the risk of losing my sports credibility, I thought I'd share some thoughts on my favorite baseball video game: Ken Griffey, Jr. Presents Major League Baseball.

As regular readers know, I don't play many sports games. It's not for lack of interest; I love watching sports and am quite interested in the strategy and athleticism behind them. It's just that sports games, like many other genres, have become increasingly specialized over the years. Imagine if someone who only played Doom dove right in to Battlefield 3? It's hard to simply jump into a current version of Madden or The Show without feeling overwhelmed. I played Griffey when it came out in 1994, and that's pretty much where my skill at baseball video games peaked.

Griffey came out at a time when the line between arcade and simulation styles was blurrier than it is today. The game had deep rosters, accurate player statistics, and realistic representations of every major league stadium. At the same time, player collisions resulted in cartoonish fainting spells, fielders ran at twice the speed of on-base runners, and players routinely broke bats over their knees. It was the kind of game that let you play through an entire season and also regularly blast 500-foot homers.

For some reason, my friends, cousins, and brother took a shining to the quirky title. Because the game wasn't licensed by the players' union, all the names (except for Griffey's) had been changed to thematic pseudonyms. The A's were made up of famous authors like Byron and Twain. Seattle unsurprisingly boasted a roster of Nintendo employees like Howard Lincoln and Dan Owsen. Because the stats, numbers, and teams were true to life, it was easy to figure out who was who, but I never bothered editing most of the names. There was something great about seeing "J. Wayne" of the Angels hit grand slams.

When it got too dark to play three flies up, we would head inside and huddle around the TV, taunting each other with slow moves to first and disrespectful tag-outs. The hitting and pitching systems are rudimentary by today's standards, but they were more than adequate for strategic play as well as mind games. Just like in the real game, Griffey was as much about anticipating your opponent's decision as it was executing the play. Of course, the pros don't have to worry about their friends trying to slap the controller out of their hands in hopes of messing up an easy fly ball.

Today, I can still remember that iconic intro song that played over the title screen. It's as if Joe Satriani was distilled into MIDI format. Also: check out the sick base solo at 1:24.

It was the 1990's y'all! I spent so much time playing the game that modern sports games still strike me as eerily quiet. Alas, I feel like the day of digital organ-laden melodic loops are long passed.

Perhaps more so than any other American sport, Baseball is steeped nostalgia. Our memories of it goes deeper than the stats we record about every pitch. The game marks the change in the seasons and gets intertwined with memories of growing up. In this way, Ken Griffey, Jr. Presents Major League Baseball is a fitting tribute to the sport. After all these years, I still recall it like some sprite-based sandlot; a digital field of dreams whose fantasy elements imbued its more realistic features with the magic necessary to make indelible memories.

Promotional Adventures: Thoughts on the Subway 'Uncharted 3' Campaign

2011-10-20T20:57:00.000-07:00

This week, my post at PopMatters comes to you courtesy of Subway.

That's a bit of an exaggeration: Subway didn't sponsor my post, but it couldn't have happened without the Subway Uncharted 3 promotion. Jorge and I talked about the (unprecedented?) ad campaign a few weeks ago. Ultimately, my love of multiplayer and sandwiches surmounted my reservations about creeping corporatism and I went down to Subway to grab a code. The post is basically a debriefing.

As I've said before, I think Uncharted 3's multiplayer is very good. Therefore, I'm glad Sony seems to be pushing it. Unfortunately, it's popularity and the early access may ultimately be detrimental to its accessibility, as people have already become ridiculously good at the game. By the time the game is released, many players will be experts at navigating the maps and will have unlocked gear superior to what is available for newcomers.

I think the promotion is more interesting on a philosophical level, as it raises questions about what we should expect from video games and their characters. What does it mean when fictional characters become spokespeople for non-fictional products? How does selling parts specific parts of a game impact the entire package? Will this become a trend? As I say in the post, I'm certain people would pay extra money to get early access to the Modern Warfare 3 multiplayer. I doubt you'd even have to offer them a sandwich.

Finally: I'm interested in hearing from anyone who has unlocked and chosen to wear the Subway-themed gear in the Uncharted 3. In a word: Why? Do you view it as a mark of your skill? Do you like the design? Are you wearing it ironically? Do you consider it an advertisement for Subway? I'm genuinely interested.

Ultimately, I'm happy that I had another shot at Uncharted 3's multiplayer and that I was able to do some first hand research in a trend that has both design and artistic implications for the medium. However, my experiences have made me reluctant to embrace similar promotions in the future.

EXP Podcast #145: HD Recollections - Ico

2011-10-19T16:50:00.000-07:00

Somewhere in a forgotten castle in Japan, where the sound of ocean waves can drift through the remains of ancient keeps, Fumito Ueda is hard at work crafting The Last Guardian. The only tenable flavor of that otherworldly realm must come from the recent launch of the Ico and Shadow of the Collosus HD bundle. This week on the show, at the request of listener Chris Rickard, we take a look at the first half of the collection and revisit our time with Yorda, Team Ico's management of camera angles and scales, and the evolutionary tree of platformers. Surely you have played the game before (If not, get on it!), so be sure to leave your thoughts on the game in the comments section below, as well as your feelings towards the HD conversion. If you liked this show, come back in two weeks while we discuss Shadow of the Collosus.

Discussion starters:

- If you played Ico at launch, what were your first thoughts?
- Does the game hold up? Does anything stand out?
- What has been the impact of Ico on the games industry at large?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 37 min 22 sec
- Music provided by Brad Sucks and Michiru Oshima from the Ico Soundtrack.

A Darker Knight

2011-10-18T20:00:00.001-07:00

Warning: This post contains spoilers for 2009’s Batman: Arkham Asylum.

When Batman: Arkham Asylum launched last year, despite its very positive reception, it never quite caught my eye. To be honest, I have just never been that big a fan of Batman. Call me crazy, but I find it hard to relate to a rich white playboy who secretly buys expensive toys and uses them to beat people up. Now before you pull your own Wayne-pile-driver, I should say I’m actually adore a certain type of Batman. After finally giving Arkham Asylum a try, I can safely say the game captures many of the comic book elements introduced by DC’s great writers, which help make both a great game and a great protagonist. Now I am ready and eager to get my hands on Arkham City.

Like Superman, I never found Batman interesting growing up. I was busy engulfing the X-men and could not be bothered with the caped crusader. Then, in college, I read Arkham Asylum: The Serious House on Serious Earth by legendary Grant Morrison. You cannot read this comic book and look at Batman the same way ever again. Although Rocksteady only loosely based their game on this comic, the power of the source material is powerful enough to shine through. The heroes and villains Morrison presents are not glamorous or cliches, despite their ludicrous personas. The inmates of Arkham Asylum are deranged murderers living in a maddening and terribly dark world. The world they inhabit only mirrors the insanities of the outside world as well, which Batman inhabits tenuously. Some of these same adult undertones work marvelously in the game version of Arkham Island. Not only is the game genuinely dark, but the protective wards for inmates, the audio tapes dotting the island, and the disturbingly sadistic characterization of Killer Croc and Victor Zsaz are quite unsettling.

Arkham Asylum also upholds some of the more nuanced elements of Batman established in comic book form. Frank Miller’s run of The Dark Night Returns and The Dark Knight Strikes Again portrays Bruce Wayne as a far more human and fallible hero than the norm. Although Rocksteady stayed clear of some of the most interesting ethical and political dimensions of the Dark Knight’s actions, Batman still comes off as vulnerable, albeit quite capable. The jitter of the controller and the dazed camera effects make each punch Batman takes dramatic and punishing. Even the locked off areas of the island express how reliant Batman is on his tools of the trade. The build-up of wounds and damages to his suit over the game also add-up to a character who is forcing himself to suffer to achieve his ends. He is tenacious, not magically imbued with mutant powers. All of which make his decision to use the antidote on himself, to stop from becoming super-human, far more powerful.

Even the elements of the Arkham Asylum comic and Alan Moore’s run of The Killing Joke that characterize Batman as partially insane himself appear in Rocksteady’s efforts. The Scarecrow hallucinations vividly exploring just how disturbed Bruce Wayne still is. After all, he dresses up like a bat because he couldn’t handle the death of his parents. The villains play as much a part in his pysche as he does in theirs. “You need us as much as we need you,” Scarecrow calls out to Batman while tormenting him with nightmares, some of which incorporate a hidden recognition of his own insanity. How cool is that? And some people call Nathan Drake a complex hero?

Ok , I see now why you all put Arkham Asylumon on your game-of-the-year lists of 2009, and why undoubtedly so many of you are playing through Arkham City right now. No spoilers, but does it live up to the hype? Do the downtrodden cops of Ed Brubaker’s amazing Gotham Central make an appearance, those unfortunate detectives forced to live in a hero’s shadow while watching their city crumble? Have they made the Bat even more interesting? I am certainly eager to find out. While I wait though, I might write a letter to Rocksteady telling them to read Kingdom Come and All-Star Superman and plead for them bring our red-caped protector back into the modern age of videogames.

A 'League of Legends' Balancing Act

2011-10-13T15:34:00.000-07:00

My latest PopMatters article is now live: A League of Legends Balancing Act

I have written about League of Legends a startling amount of times. This is partly because I still play the game, getting in at least two or three matches a week (and sometimes a lot more), and partly because the game is always changing. I admire Riot's commitment to not only adapting and growing their product, but making their community feel like an integral part of the experience. It's not just the frequent videos where they highlight fan art, or the champion highlights and "how-to"s, but also their apparent respect to their fan base. The player judgement system is a perfect example of Riot recognizing the community's complaints and concerns about griefers and their willingness to create a system that acts on this need by tapping the very community it serves.

Riot's pro-level circuit and livestreams are also fascinating to watch, and always offer accessible and entertaining commentary. Riot has also shown support for indy devs, and after talking with a few of the devs at a hackathon they supported in New York last summer, I get the sense this admiration for player and indy ingenuity is genuine for the entire team. For those interested in community relations, particularly in competitive multiplayer environments, Riot is the company to watch.

This is precisely why I find 'Dominion' so interesting in relation to game balance. The new launch is just a reminder of how quickly Riot has grown since launch, both their game and their design team (for which they are still hiring). When I compare their community efforts with Blizzard or CCP, I wonder if there are inevitable growing pains for companies working in the multiplayer sphere. Players always demand more content, but more content bloats a product and makes is harder to wrangle. I'm certain Riot will do just fine, but I certainly consider their work to be an experiment in balancing design goals and community expectations.

EXP Podcast #144: The Wonder Gears

2011-10-12T10:00:00.000-07:00

Time moves fast in the world of video games. Technology changes (remember Rumble Paks?), franchises rise and fall (just ask Guitar Hero!), and it's hard to predict what will gain popularity (Minecraft, anyone?). With the recent release of Gears of War 3, Jorge and I decided we would take stock of what we consider to be one of most important franchises of the last five years. This show is less about the games' specific story and more about their narrative within the industry. We talk about everything from the influence of cover to blurred genres distinctions, and close with some thoughts (and hopes) regarding Epic's future. As always, thanks for listening and feel free to voice your thoughts in the comments!

Discussion starters:

- How does Gears differ from other big franchises of last few years?
- Is the series' influence understated, properly recognized, or exaggerated?
- What are your hopes for Epic's future projects?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 41 min 20 sec
- "No Glory for Gears," by Jorge Albor, via PopMatters
- "'Gears of War 3:' A Triumphant Past, a Familiar Present, and an Uncertain Future," by Scott Juster, via PopMatters
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

The Fog of War: Notes from the Battlefield 3 Beta

2011-10-11T20:07:00.000-07:00

The beta for DICE's upcoming Battlefield 3 recently closed. As an avid on-line shooter dilettante, I was excited to get a look at what seems to be a very important release for EA. Battlefield is a long-running franchise, but this installment is being positioned to directly compete with the industry's reigning military shooter juggernaut, Modern Warfare 3. Designing a successful first-person shooter is difficult; designing one that works well enough to capture the console audience is even more so. Will Battlefield 3 be able to pull this off?

It's hard to tell, but to be honest, I'm not optimistic. I've been in a bit of a visual design mood lately, and because of this, certain aspects of BF 3's visual presentation stood out. Complex, fast-paced games need readable, navigable on-screen information systems, especially on a console where control inputs are limited. Unfortunately, BF 3 does a sub-par job of conveying crucial information.

The in-game HUD is pretty, but its symbols and numbers could be redesigned to be more readable. Instead of denoting grenades with "G," why not use a widely-recognizable pictogram? Implementing this symbol would also allow for multiple grenade types with different physical profiles. It took me a while to figure out that the three dots near the ammo count represent the gun's firing rate. Changing them to be shaped like bullets would have communicated their significance much more quickly, as it would be clear that a group of bullets meant auto-fire while a single-bullet meant a single shot.

The health percentage number is interesting, but is usually irrelevant, as a few bullets is enough to kill you and your health is also denoted by visual distortion. A simple health bar would have sufficed and had the added bonus of offering a visual representation of how damaging a particular attack is, rather than forcing the player to try to keep track of the numbers in their head.

Much of the game's encounters hinge on seeing enemies from afar and constantly monitoring distant terrain. Unfortunately, the mini-map's position in the lower-left corner of the screen draws your eyes away from the horizon. Of course, this may be by design, but it still makes maintaining situational awareness difficult.

The loadout screens also fail to make practical use of screen space. When cycling through weapon and item options on the class selection screen, you have to press a button to display the possible options for each weapon and piece of hardware. The menu that pops up inhabits what was previously empty space, so why hide it in the first place? Similarly, the more detailed weapon views only show you one weapon and one set of accessories at a time. Getting a description or changing require button presses that completely replace what you just had on the screen, thereby making it difficult to compare equipment without inadvertently changing it. Making more efficient use of space by employing pop-up menus or multiple columns would be faster and more informative for new players.

Large-scale communications problems also detracted from my experience. Jorge and I attempted to join each other for a game, but without an in-game invite notification system or the ability to back out to a lobby without quitting the entire game resulted in a comedy of errors. Even if you successfully team up with a partner, BF 3's huge maps and objective-focused rules make a anyone without a good headset a liability. Ideally, you could learn from your mistakes and modify your tactics after you are killed. However, the game's ridiculously zoomed-in kill cam act mainly as a showcase for how weird the game's animation looks from a third-person perspective. Of course, not all shooters need copy Modern Warfare, and I can see the philosophical argument against kill cams, but I'd rather have a static scorecard than the headache-inducing, jittery view that follows a death.

Admittedly, these criticisms are very specific (some might say "nit-picky"). BF 3 is a solid game with impressive scope and I can see its appeal. However, when you're trying to go head-to-head with Modern Warfare, simply being "solid" doesn't cut it. A polished experienced is crucial, especially in the console space where other colossi like Halo and Gears of War roam.

Still, the Battlefield 3 beta did hint at a couple of secret weapons the game can use in its campaign for shooter domination. No other game can claim to have bionic aircraft technology:

And if the following clip is any indication, there seems to be some sort of "demon spawn" character class that I failed to unlock:

'Gears of War 3': A Triumphant Past, a Familiar Present, and an Uncertain Future

2011-10-06T17:16:00.000-07:00

This week's PopMatters post is a meditation on the past, present, and future of Gears of War.

Gears is probably not the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the word "meditative," but I'm always interested in searching for the brains behind the brawn. I have a certain soft spot for Gears in much the same way I do for the God of War series. While the violence and impressive set pieces attract an understandable amount of attention, there are plenty of impressive design choices and thought-provoking thematic elements. Sometimes these things things start getting a little bit meta, which is where this week's essay comes in.

I wasn't surprised to see mostly positive reviews for Gears of War 3. Epic knows what it's doing. I was intrigued by a small, but noticeable undercurrent of dissatisfaction that appeared in a variety of reviews. For some, Gears 3 delivered everything it was expected to provide, and yet it felt somewhat lacking or perhaps even boring. Nothing specific is wrong or missing. On the contrary, its many elegant systems and game modes make Gears 3 one of the most robust games out there. What then is the problem?

My theory is that the franchise's fate resembles that of its protagonist. By the end of the trilogy, Marcus has turned the tide of the war and cleared a space for a new world to emerge. But now that the battle is over, what will become of him and the unique skills that define him? As a series, Gears fought a battle to claw out a space for a new kind of shooter. Third-person can basically be broken down into two groups: pre and post-Gears. Things like one-button cover systems have become ubiquitous, as have blockbuster games with both expansive single-player and complex multiplayer modes. Gears helped changed the landscape, but what comes next?

Gears is still the best at what it does, but perhaps its own successes have diminished its impact? Years after the first and second games, we have seen scores of titles learn and implement Gears' lessons. The result is things that initially felt innovative have now become commonplace. Gears of War 3 may be the ultimate refinement of a once-innovative style, but it no longer surprises people. This leaves Epic, Marcus, and players with the same question: What next?

EXP Podcast #143: Deli Club DLC

2011-10-05T10:00:00.000-07:00

If Antonio Banderas can sell sinus medication, why can't Captain Olimar sell herbicide? Maybe he can. Video games have been used to sell a wide variety of non-game related merchandise, but have our iconic protagonists ever been spokespersons? If not, then Nathan Drake is changing videogames again, and this time he is doing it was sandwiches. This week on the EXP Podcast, we discuss the fourth-wall breaking personification of Nathan Drake, how it reflects the status of games cultures and narratives, and the ethical concerns about connecting game content with real world consumption. We encourage to watch, and the re-watch, the Uncharted 3 Subway commercial embedded below, and then leave your thoughts in the comments section.

Some discussion starters:

- Does this ad campaign water down Uncharted 3's story?
- Do you think this type of marketing will weave its way throughout videogames more often?
- Did you already buy Subway before even listening to this episode?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 32 min 58 sec
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Crossing the Shooter Divide

2011-10-04T23:04:00.000-07:00

I have wrapped the campaign for Gears 3, killing my final locust grub and triumphantly yelling “shit yea!” at the top of my lungs while gyrating in front my apartment window, fist raised to the sky. As a personal reward (it’s important to enjoy the little things), I hopped onto my computer to try out the Battlefield 3 multiplayer. Now I have played Battlefield games before, most of which I enjoyed immensely. I can comfortably say no one comes close to creating the sensation of fighting in a large scale battle than Dice. That being said, I had no idea what I was getting into. I quickly abandoned the illusion that these two games belonged in the same genre. Far from it. Gears is to Battlefield 3 as Woody from Toy Story is to Clint Eastwood from Unforgiven.

Like stepping out of darkness into the bright outdoors, I was blinded by the visual fidelity of Battlefield 3. I had grown accustomed to the browns and greys of locust hordes, so much so that I became overwhelmed and quite confused by the landscape before me. One of the maps in the beta takes place out doors in a park, with sunlight shining on the bushes, rocks, and assorted park accessories. In an environment awash with light, picking out enemies can actually be quite hard. Crouched in a bush leagues away, or even standing next to a tree, other players can seem like just a part of their environment. With all the detail, you have got to train your eyes to spot subtle movement or the glint of light off an enemy’s scope. In multiple instances, after I had been shot out from an unknown location, I frantically scanned my surroundings, looking for signs of life, wondering if perhaps my assailant had fled, only to be shot down from who knows where. Trying to read Battlefield 3’s landscape can be like staring at a magic eye puzzle you just cannot see.

Even in the subterranean subway, light plays a crucial role in combat. Well lit expanses become dead zones where players are easily taken out from a distance, their movement visible from anywhere. Localized fires create smoke and distracting flares that obscure enemies hiding behind them. Unlike Gears your enemies will not make loud grunting sounds or telegraph their presence with a battle cry. More often than not, I died quickly and efficiently by the hands of players I could not see. The flashlight, an unlockable piece of equipment, made matters worse by disorienting and blinding me when confronting players armed with a mag light. Not knowing if the source was friend or foe, I found myself shooting the air haphazardly like an inept villain.

Speaking of shooting, the weaponry in Battlefield 3 leaves me baffled. I thought I had grown familiar with guns - scoped ones kill people from far away, rifles take out mid-range one, and shotgungs blow close things to shreds. Regardless of what you wield, everything bullet is fatal in Battlefield 3. Whereas each weapon in Gears has some clever gimmick to it, making it unique, the differences between weapons seem minuscule. Of course I have yet to unlock the cornucopia of attachments to increase for murderous efficiency. After collapsing to the ground, for the fourth time, from what seemed like a bee sting, I began to miss the heavy-set impermeable of Marcus Fenix and a gun with a freaking chainsaw on it.

Sometime in between racking up kills by laying prone next to some boxes, waiting for enemies to walk into my sights, and running like a madman into battle hoping to drop a radio beacon to gain points without having to shoot anything, I realized the genre term “shooter” is damn near meaningless. There is enjoyment to be had in Gears of War 3 and Battlefield 3, but moving from one to the other can be shocking. From hence forth, I will move gradually across my genre divides, lest I panic, run for cover, and hide in bushes for twenty minutes... again.

No Glory for Gears

2011-09-29T23:49:00.000-07:00

My latest PopMatters article is now live: No Glory for Gears

While the main article contains major spoilers for Gears of War 3, I'll avoid any spoilers here.
In a medium absolutely saturated with sequels and spinoffs, finales and last installments in a franchise become more significant. Can we appreciate Gears of War 3 as much if it did not some how comment on its own history, success, and failures? As I see it, Epic had a huge responsibility with this game, a capstone to a astonishingly successful, controversial, and influential franchise. This weighty burden must have come across in the game's narrative.

As is clear in the article, Gears 3 surpasses its predecessors in storytelling by a wide margin. That being said, it is still Gears, and thinks are not perfect. There are plot holes you can drive a Brumak through, and some story arcs are so shockingly convenient and unexplained, you might begin to think they wrote this script overnight. In some ways, these contrivances actually work quite nicely. Marcus and the gang are gears after all, they do respond only to the circumstance presented and seldom bother to think things over for more than a few seconds. At several points, Baird question significant plot details and then is largely ignored. The task at hand is always paramount: kill as many grubs as you can.

The killing, ie the gameplay, is as fun as ever. While I may save most of my assessment of the game for a future post, suffice it so say Epic upholds many of the feature that made the series fantastic. While I think the level design takes a step down from Gears 2, they are various enough so as to largely avoid tedium. The new weapons are not particularly interesting either, but when you have the trusty chain-saw gun, one of the weapons in any game, who can complain?

I may already be growing nostalgic for Gears, now that the series has come to an end. The story of the cogs, while not always well told, has fit so comfortably into its aesthetic environment, that its hard to call even the annoying segmens anything but a success. With this conclusion in particular, Epic has managed find a particular type of war story to match the brutality and tone of the series.

I am certain many of you have already played Gears 3. Let me know what you thought of the story in the comments section. (And be sure to mark your comments with a spoiler warning if necessary.)

EXP Podcast #142: A New Hope in The Old Republic?

2011-09-28T10:00:00.000-07:00

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....Jorge and I recorded a podcast about Star Wars. Inspired by the recent announcement that the Bioware-developed MMO, Star Wars: The Old Republic would indeed be released this year, we discuss our expectations and the nature of Star Wars video games in general. We've flown from one end of this galaxy to the other, and we've seen a lot of strange stuff, but finding a great Star Wars game is rare and precious thing. Many Bothans died to bring us this podcast, so make it worth their sacrifice by sharing your thoughts in the comments!

Discussion starters:

- Will Star Wars: The Old Republic become more fun than you can possibly imagine, or will it cause a great disturbance in the Force?
- What are your favorite Star Wars video games and what elements of the universe do the depict?
- Which lesser known characters or themes would you like to see in a Star Wars game?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 39 min 32 sec
- "Star Wars: The Old Republic Launching Dec. 20, starts at $15 per month," via Joystiq
- Wikipedia's list of Star Wars games
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

The HUD and the Huddle

2011-09-27T18:21:00.000-07:00

It's fall in the U.S., which means football season is back. After missing practically all of last season, returning to the ritual of the Sunday football marathon has been especially enjoyable. The fact that both the 49ers and Raiders are off to strong starts only sweetens the experience.

However, even when watching football, my mind never strays too far from video games. Recently, it occurred to me that football broadcasts have become increasingly similar to video games in regards to how they communicate situational information. As a way of sorting through some of the changes and challenges of designing on-screen information systems, I'll share some thoughts about the HUDs (heads-up displays) used in both video game and televised football.

Today's on-screen displays are pretty slick, but they haven't always been that way. Check out this clip from a 1993 NFL broadcast:

By today's standards, the screen is naked. Instead of existing as a persistent overlay, game time, scores, and other statistics bookend the action and disappear during play.

Compare this with a Madden video game from the same era:

Although the game information disappears after the ball is hiked, it stays visible before and in-between plays, delivering frequent updates about the game's situation.

Other franchises like Tecmo Super Bowl went even further than Madden and implemented persistent HUDs that displayed time, score, and player info:

By the late 1990s, technology and production techniques finally allowed television to catch up to the point video games had reached years earlier. "Score bugs," (small, rectangular on-screen graphics displaying game data) became ubiquitous and eventually morphed into full-screen banners. Augmented reality elements marked important yard lines with bright colors and projected virtual signs onto the field. Today's football broadcast is composed of screens filled with information in a small, yet dense layout:

From this picture alone, you can see what teams are playing, the score, how many time outs each team has, the down number and yardage needed for a first down, how many seconds are left on the play clock, the remaining time in the quarter, and (of course) which network is broadcasting the game.

Of course, all of this assumes you have some working knowledge of football's rules. Because it is comprised largely of words, abbreviations, and numbers, it would be difficult to learn much about the game's rules simply by looking at the HUD. For a more symbolic approach, we can consider Halo: Reach's HUD:

Even a person who has never played a Halo game would likely recognize and discern the basic meanings behind the grenade, gun, compass, crosshairs, and arrow symbols. While the Halo UI organizes information and implicitly imparts the game's rules, televised football HUDs are more focused on efficiently conveying data to people who already know the rules.

Football broadcasts are increasingly utilizing augmented reality techniques to supplement the HUD overlay. The yellow first down line and down count are digitally imposed on the field. Most broadcasts also show a blue line representing the line of scrimmage and certain channels have taken to digitally imposing the play clock on the field. All of this is done very smoothly, with stylish animations that create the illusion that the graphics are part of the field itself.

Television networks have created a graphical information system with both diegetic and non-diegetic elements. The score and clock information acts as an overlay fitted over the top of the screen and creates a window through which we see the game. In practice an in shape, it is basically the Doom HUD:

At the same time, football broadcasts digitally augment the real world with virtual symbols. The first down line and yardage numbers appear as parts of the field, just as grenade symbols and mission markers function in Call of Duty.

This gives rise to a strange paradox: by making games more readable, HUDs can widen the gap between reality and simulation or participant and spectator. A football player can't see the digital down line on the field; they have to physically look away from the field to see the clock. They don't have the luxury of seeing the receivers' hot routs highlighted with virtual colors; they must remember the play formations. Similarly, a real soldier's comrades don't have green "friendly" tags hovering over their heads and enemy grenades are not denoted with convenient "toss back" symbols.

Some people pursue the elusive concept of "immersion" by purposefully seeking to disable video game HUDs or by playing minimalist games like Far Cry 2. By forcing themselves to sort through the chaos of a dynamic situation by relying their own wits rather than on-screen readouts, they experience a close connection to their avatar and the virtual world they inhabit. Perhaps these same people would prefer to watch a HUD-less football game?

I could understand such a preference. Having a ubiquitous, informative HUD makes you aware of everything going on around the huddle, but having to keep all that information in your head might make you feel like you're in it.

Hitting Close to Home: Relating to Catherine's "Family Values"

2011-09-22T11:52:00.000-07:00

This week's PopMatters post is about Catherine's uncomfortably-familiar story.

Plenty of people have taken Catherine to task on narrative and thematic levels. Regardless of what ending you get, Vincent seems to be one of the most hapless, unlikable characters in video game history. Most of his problems could be avoided with the slimmest shred of social competence and emotional maturity. Instead, he spends the entire game in an ill-defined personal malaise. Something is clearly wrong with him, but it's never clear what that something might be.

I think Matthew Burns is on to something when he identifies Catherine's setting as a "weird mishmash world" containing elements of both Japanese and American culture. I'd go even further and argue that Catherine is a fable for a certain segment of society in America and Japan: young adults beholden to the expectations of a world that no longer exists.

Regardless of whether Catherine takes place in America or Japan, Vincent is a member of a "lost generation." Coming of age in the midst of economic, political, and demographic catastrophes, many American and Japanese 20 and 30-somethings have realized the idealized middle-class life might be an illusion. On the bright side, they are more free than ever to marry whoever they want, whenever they want and to pursue non-traditional careers. Unfortunately, the specter of the Leave it to Beaver life looms large and success is still largely measured by one's ability to have it all: a spouse, kids, a stable job that pays the mortgage, and all the rest of Pleasantville's trappings. I speak from personal experience when I say it's a tricky balancing act.

I was excited to see how Catherine's characters would confront this problem. My interest grew as the game's villain, Dumizid, came to represent a physical manifestation of the old, idealized, sexist interpretations of the well-lived life. Here was an opportunity to explore alternatives to either a life of conformity or an aimless existence.

Disappointingly, Catherine's characters offer little in the way of heroism. It's true that art is not obligated to offer solutions to social and cultural problems, but it was extremely depressing to see Vincent and the rest of Catherine's cast choose between living by a set of unquestioned social rules or a never-ending existence of extended adolescence. Catherine's morality system offers "freedom" and "order" as polar opposites, but fails to grasp that the two concepts are both mutually reliant and made possible by personal responsibility. Catherine posits that the lost generation find their way by either living according to fallacious social mores or embracing unchecked self-indulgence.

Catherine raises the question of what it means to be an adult in a liberal, post-industrial society and offers a few options as to how to achieve a meaningful life. It's a depressing game, not only because these solutions are distasteful, but because they are familiar. My dislike of Vincent's story is personal because it hits close to home.

EXP Podcast #141: TGS 2011 Rundown

2011-09-21T11:04:00.000-07:00

Like some sort of radioactive monster from the sea, the Tokyo Game Show has risen and invaded Japan. This week on the EXP Podcast, Scott and I discuss the most interesting tidbits out of TGS, touching on a variety of subjects, from our longing for the "Japanese" aesthetic to pregnancy peripherals and the prospects for the PS Vita and the 3DS. Let us know what news caught your eye in the comments section below, and be sure to check out the show notes for some of the games we mention in the show.

Discussion starters:
- Do you miss traditionally "Japanese" games?
- What games out of TGS piqued your curiosity?
- Are you more or less excited for the Vita? How about the 3DS?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 42 min 53 sec

- Ni No Kuni TGS Trailer
- Gravity Rush TGS Trailer
- Mommy Tummy TGS Footage via Joystiq
- "Opinion: 'Expansion Slide Pad' Reflects Lack Of Confidence In 3DS," by Kyle Orland via Gamasutra
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Making "Good" Games for Change

2011-09-20T22:09:00.000-07:00

Over the past two days, a heated and lively discussion has taken place on the listserv for Games for Change (G4C), the New York based non-profit focused on so-called "serious" and social impact games. While some have bickered, the majority of the advocates, academics, and game designers contributing to the conversation have offered well-meaning insight into the dilemma of uniformly supporting the painfully vague concept of a "game for change." After all, what kind of change are we talking about here?

The topic resulted from a question by a listserv member (none of whom I will name here), asking how best to market a free online game meant to educate youth about career opportunities in the nuclear energy industry. Nuclear power, particularly in the United States, has a tumultuous history. Naturally, another user replied with a critique of nuclear power, stating that "G4C members should seriously question whether to help a game that promotes such an industry." While the decision to help is a personal one, the issues this dilemma poses is a valuable one. As another G4C member states, "the definition of 'doing good' seems to be what is under debate here."

Nuclear energy aside, how do we decide whether a "game for change" promotes positive change? We could firmly deride a game that encourages young kids to abuse drugs, but such clean-cut examples do not exist. As games become increasingly employed as educational and persuasive tools, games with politically diverse and even contradictory themes will arise. Objectively qualifying and separating each and every serious game into positive and negative camps is a futile task.

Games can both educate and indoctrinate. Indeed, we imbue all our cultural constructions with our own personal beliefs and ideologies, both intentionally and unintentionally. As one G4C member astutedly pointed out, "education is a political act." The difference between persuasion and propaganda is a thin line, particularly when it comes to digital systems, that can all too easily hide their intent behind a shroud of "fun."

Social impact game designers should feel comfortable with well designed games, even when they disagree with the game's message, in much the same way an academic can respect a person's argument even if they disagree with its core assumptions. That is to say, our own arguments must be flimsy if our only defense against another sound argument is censorship. To use this analogy further, like a sound logical argument, a "good" game for change must be well constructed in addition to accomplishing its persuasive or educational task. Most of us can agree that subliminal messaging, while potentially effective, is an ethically dubious persuasive strategy compared to logic and reason. Games can foster incredibly rewarding discussions, particularly when in dialogue with each other, but they can only do so on even terms.

As digital systems, games can inadvertently foster simulation bias. The work of Sherry Turkle, Kurt Squire, Chad Raphael, and Kiri Miller all make note of the "black box" problem, in which players interact with a system without questioning its hidden assumptions. All social impact games that model real world systems must always simplify their subject material to make it accessible to players, and in doing so, as one G4C member points out, "we are showing our viewpoints, are we not?" Good games for change then, above all else, should avoid the obfuscation of assumptions. Players should be free and capable, if not encouraged, to interrogate, analyze, and critique a game's procedural rhetoric. Games for change should promote systems and games fluency, arming players with the tools to comprehend and engage in a dialogue with games of all sorts, even those games we disagree with.

I consider my advocacy for social impact games as similar to my advocacy for political practice based on logic and reason. Just as students learn (or should learn) the components of a well honed argument, so should players learn the components of games-based persuasion and education. Social impact games can and should disagree with each other, but they should all do so with an emphasis on transparency.

The Sensationalist: Assessing Digital Diseases

2011-09-15T15:23:00.000-07:00

This post is part of "The Sensationalist," a continuing series here at Experience Points in which we examine games' abilities to evoke emotions and sensations in video game players. Please have a look at the series' introduction as well its previous entries.

My latest PopMatters article is now live: Assessing Digital Diseases.

I mentioned my illogical fear of diseases at the beginning of this article, but as a child it was even worse. Outbreak gave me nightmares for weeks and I absolutely refused to touch my brother's copy of Hot Zone. Contagions are absolutely terrifying. They cannot be easily fought, death may come suddenly and painfully, and people you know and love can become carriers. I find few places as conceptually frightening as quarantine zones. At least games often give me something to shoot, necromorphs, the flood, zombies, etc., physical and vulnerable embodiments of disease.

I intentionally left out tactile games, some of which capture the paranoia and desperation of an epidemic. Pandemic, which I have discussed before, pits up to four players against a host of rapidly proliferating diseases. Cities on the game board can "hot zone," spreading the plague to neighboring cities, which can cause chain reactions. The cooperative game is quite difficult, and victory often comes in a moment of complete panic and mental exhaustion. The On The Brink expansion adds disease mutations, virulent strains, and even a bio-terrorist into the mix, which in combination can wreak havoc on one's sense of safety and control, a rare and delightful treat.

The aptly named Panic Station, a board game to be released later this year, evokes the same sense of paranoia, disgust, and fear created by Jon Carpenter's The Thing (probably my favorite horror film). Set in the confines of an alien occupied military base, you and your team must arm yourselves with flamethrower fuel, then seek out and destroy the hive. However, one of your teammates is a host for the alien. Even worse, this enemy menace can infect your entire crew. Before long, the sense of paranoia and isolation that comes with survival in a hot zone becomes overwhelming.

While I have yet to play Panic Station, it and a few board games like it, including Pandemic, masterfully play with the pop culture horror of disease, manifestations of the intangible real-world fears we so long to fight.

EXP IndieCast #7: Talking Trauma with Krystian Majewski

2011-09-14T13:21:00.000-07:00

This week, Jorge and I are pleased to welcome Krystian Majewski back to the show! Krystian is designer of Trauma, an independent game that blends puzzle solving, exploration, and interactive storytelling.

We discuss the Trauma's development process and ask Krystian about his approach to game design. We also find time to talk about everything from urban exploration to Lego robots, and we find out whether Krystian ended up with "Katherine" or "Catherine."

Unsurprisingly, we had a great time talking with Krystian and we hope you enjoy the conversation as well. Be sure to check out the links in the show notes if you're interested in Trauma, as well as Krystian's many other projects. Thanks again to Krystian, and to you all for listening!

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 1 hr 04 min 17 sec
- The Official Website of Trauma
- Krystian's writing on Game Design Scrapbook and Game Design Reviews
- The Monster Hunter Podcast on Social Dissonance
- Krystian's Design Portfolio Website
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Soulja Boy Silliness

2011-09-13T20:47:00.000-07:00

Last week, I wrote a fairly serious (and lengthy!) essay about video games and art. To help make my point and to add some humor, I included a video of Soulja Boy analyzing Braid:

I didn't have room to go into all the reasons I find this clip so amusing, but I want to expand on a few of them here. Jorge and I try to strike a balance between gravity and levity in our work, and I think this video is a great example of how something can be both light-hearted and insightful.

"You just walk around jumping on shit"

When you get right down to it, the basic structure of Braid, as well as countless other games, pretty much boils down to "jumping on shit." Replace "jumping on" with "shooting at," and you've probably described the majority of video games. Often, the line between an "art" game and an "entertainment" game is an aesthetic one, rather than a mechanical one.

"He looks like Mario in the future...in a business suit, with his hair dyed orange."

Intertextuality, anyone? As a medium, video games have reached a point where allusions to iconic figures denote meaning. Players have grown accustomed to the implications such allusions make. Something that initially looks and feels like Mario primes the player for a specific experience.

"Shit I'm gonna die! Woooooooop!"

One of the best about having established conventions is twisting them in unexpected ways. Like any experienced player, Soulja Boy knows that jumping into a pit while playing a platformer means "death." But Braid subverts that almost instinctual knowledge and lets you do what we've spent decades dreaming about: instantly rewinding a mistake.

I could write a thousand words about the mechanical and emotional resonance of such an action, but it is just as easily expressed by a long, giddy yell.

"He don't never run out of the 'go back in time potion'"

Pause to think about all the arbitrary elements of a game for too long and you'll quickly find that most titles are riddled with inexplicable oddities. Why do red barrels always explode? How can a character survive such a long fall? How exactly does "health regeneration" work? As Soulja Boy points out, the rewinding mechanic in Braid might as well be governed by some sort of mysterious, never ending supply of magic potion. The point is not the rationale behind its existence, but the effects its existence have on the game world.

"This shit's stupid as hell, man."

There's no rule that says games can't be both thought-provoking and stupid. Red Dead Redemption was great because of its bleak message about civilization's failings. It was also great because I was able to jump off of buildings and scare unsuspecting crowds of people. Far Cry 2 conveys a sobering story of war and violence, but it also provides an inexhaustible supply of stories about the sheer stupidity of starting a fire in the middle of a forest or letting a grenade roll back downhill towards you.

Enjoyment doesn't necessitate solemn reverence. Clearly, Soulja Boy is having a great time laughing at Braid's absurdity. He calls the game stupid as hell, but he does so with a smile. I suspect it's the same smile I have when I'm chainsawing an alien in half while playing Gears of War. It's one of the things I value most about video games.

"Video game" can often be a cumbersome term, especially in the context of ever more sophisticated titles that blur the lines between scripted media and dynamic systems. However, it's still useful for reminding us of the medium's inherent playfulness. It's alright to be silly and poke fun at games. There's always some kind of hidden depth behind even the stupidest situations.

Telling Hamlet What to Do: Video Games, Art, and Cultural Hierarchies

2011-09-08T18:29:00.000-07:00

Brace yourselves: This week's PopMatters post is about games and art. I figure it's best to get this off my chest as we enter the big release season.

I try not to get bogged down by the "Are video games art?" question for a few reasons. There are other folks out there who have stronger philosophy and art history backgrounds. I also think that proving the case by highlighting good design and producing insightful criticism is just as important as constructing a theoretical argument. It's also easy to get sucked into a black hole inhabited by subjective statements masquerading as fact and lose sight of specific games altogether.

Fittingly, it is this last reason that prompted me to write the essay. People (myself included) often treat art as if it is akin to a physical law: "Somewhere out there is the One True Art that can be applied to all human expression!" The reality is a whole lot messier.

I use Lawrence Levine's book Highbrow/Lowbrow to demonstrate one recent example of art's ever-changing definition. In the U.S., the current concept of "high art" is a relatively recent phenomenon. By the dawning of the twentieth century, Shakespeare's works had been transformed from central pieces in U.S. popular culture into sacred icons of high culture. Along with things like classical music and the nature of museums, Shakespeare was used to solidify a change in what social elites considered "art." A cultural hierarchy that prized an artist's "pure" vision as opposed to one that could be molded and appropriated by the audience was constructed. The Shakespeare that people parodied for political satire and that audiences modified mid-performance morphed into the Shakespeare that is considered an untouchable artistic symbol.

As my editor G. Christopher Williams pointed out, this tension between the sacred and the profane (or perhaps secular?) ideas of art is not a new one, nor is Levine the first author to discuss it. For centuries, people have been writing and arguing about the impact that authorial control, democratization, and accessibility has on the things we consider art. I used Levine's study of American culture as convenient example of just how rapidly cultures change their beliefs. Spontaneously calling for a musical interlude or the extension of a fight scene in Hamlet would be unthinkable today, despite the fact that such actions were once common. The ideal form of "art" changed, and along with it our relationship to the material.

Video games pose a direct challenge to the idea of the untouchable, sacred version of art. Like early-American theatergoers, players have the ability to interact with even the most scripted material. Video games return us to a place where human expression can be a system rather than a sequence: Instead of following a single path through a film, book, or play, games explore the human condition through interactions that model our thoughts on philosophy, art, and the environment. These models are often unpredictable, but that does not necessarily mean they are less meaningful than non-interactive works; they simply don't conform to our current definition of art.

As I say in the essay: we have to be careful when arguing that games are art. All to often, we are simply chasing an ever-shifting historical illusion. Whether or not games are considered art is more of a commentary our definition of art than it is on the games themselves. The sands of time will eventually erode our current historical, ethnic, and cultural dispositions about art, but the games will remain. Therefore, we should worry less about the status of our games and instead celebrate their beauty.

EXP Podcast #140: A Catherine Conversation

2011-09-07T18:25:00.000-07:00

We have wrestled with sheep, turned blocks into staircases, and climbed the highest towers to bring you this Catherine themed podcast. This week on the show, Scott and I discuss the latest erotic-story-focused-puzzle game from Atlus, its cowardly and ineffectual protagonist, and its take on gender, marriage, and fidelity. As always, we encourage you to share your own thoughts on Catherine in the comments section below.

Some discussion starters:
- What do you think of Catherine's protagonist?
- Do you feel your ending fit within the story well?
- What sort of message came through Catherine?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 48 min 07 sec
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Place and Memories of 9/11

2011-09-06T22:33:00.000-07:00

Thomas Hoepker refused to publish the photo above until 2006, five years after he snapped this scene of New Yorkers seemingly chatting and enjoying the summer day while the city suffered and burned in the background. Of course, the reality of that moment captured in time differs from the relaxed and care-free aesthetic represented on film. Indeed, one of the men in the photograph has long since illuminated the circumstances of the scene. Regardless, the photo remains an evocative reflection on human nature in the face of catastrophe and an irreparably altered future. As Hoeker later discussed, the picture seems to ask so many questions. How could such a dramatic moment in history be met so leisurely? “Was everyone supposed to run around with a worried look on that day or the weeks after 9/11? How would I have looked on that day to a distanced observer?”

Like most people born before the nineties, I remember that day with relative clarity. I first heard about an explosion in New York from the car radio on my way to school. I was tired though, and the news was difficult to hear over the grumbling of my father’s truck, so I did not comprehend the severity of the situation until I was struck by the silence and fear pervading my high school campus. We all knew class would be canceled well before the announcement over the intercom made it official. While we waited for reality to catch up, one of my teachers rolled in a television and turned on the news. We all watched in shock until some faculty member deemed the footage too disturbing and shut off the monitor.

The rest of my memory is cloudy. I remember picking up extra editions of the newspaper and watching the news at home, but that’s it. Of course the event was on all our minds at school the next day, and for some time, but so were other trivial matters. We still had chores, and grades, and rumors, and plans to make. 9/11 was a tragedy, but even on that first day, it all felt so removed, like I merely felt the aftershocks of an earthquake centered many miles away. Other days, good and bad, have since replaced my memories of that day.

This past June I spent five weeks in New York while interning for Games for Change. I stayed in Manhattan, in the Lower East Side, and worked near Union Square. I spent much of my free time exploring the city, meeting up with friends in Manhattan and Brooklyn, and doing what so many others have done before me: falling in love with the city. While I’ll always be a Californian at heart, New York did start feeling like home.

While looking at photo collections of New York on September 11th, 2001, I realized how deeply my perceptions and memories of that day have been affected by my time in New York. I have walked those streets once shrouded in dust and debris. The fear and grief on the faces of New Yorkers strike an entirely different chord now that I have walked amongst their brick and mortar homes, chatted with their barbers and bartenders, stumbled late night through their subway turnstiles, and meandered my way across Manhattan from East Harlem to the Financial District. The photographs evoke thoughts about the history and conflict that birthed that day, and all the political ideologies and misery that grew from the catastrophe. They also now illicit a new found mix of sympathy, shock, and defensiveness, undoubtedly a response to my time in Manhattan.

Of course I can never truly share that day with New Yorkers, but my sense of place within such a diverse and iconic city has fundamentally altered my memories and understanding of September 11th, a profound moment in history. This is where videogames intersect. Games can create a sense of place like no other medium, and this sense of place can become powerfully evocative and change the way we see the past and present. I think Inside the Haiti Earthquake achieves this with its story of the island nation and its natural disaster, and Grand Theft Auto IV to some extent with New York itself. If fantastic fictional lands can captivate us so deeply, why not immerse ourselves within digital versions of real places we barely know? If we are daring enough to build them, we may find occupying a historical place more personally significant and evocative than visiting alien worlds, their vapid landscapes devoid of the memories and weighty implications imbued in our own backyard. There are so many places for games to go and so many memories to explore anew.

Exploring the Death in The End

2011-09-01T10:56:00.000-07:00

My latest PopMatters article is now live: Exploring Death in The End.

Call me morbid, but I am fascinated by death as a sociocultural phenomenon. An huge economy exists around death and dying, and our how we respond to our own mortality has changed over the years and reflect a great deal about our culture at large. As cultural artifacts, games provide valuable insight into some of the way we approach our imminent demise.

Interestingly, Preloaded and Channel 4 Education made The End to address what they saw as a generation of youth struggling with death in a largely secular and urban culture. As an engagement tool, games lend themselves well to a young adult audience already familiar with games and social media. I mostly overlooked The End's Facebook integration, but being able to compare answers to serious philosophical questions with your friends can be immensely powerful. As teens and young adults, we may isolate ourselves amongst our friends without ever really exploring the diversity of beliefs even within our friends circle. While playing The End, if you see your friend far away from your location in the Mystic track, you may be inclined to spark up a conversation about their choices. The game's questions are deeply personal and seldom easily answered, but game seems to create a safe place to approach the subject without demonizing the beliefs of others. As a kid, struggling with my own beliefs, I certainly would have enjoyed the type of validation and exploration of belief systems offered by The End.

I should also point out most clearly that The End is actually quite fun. Several trophies and challenges offer players reasons to test their platforming skills to the limit, and multiplayer "Death Cards" allows players to challenge each other and the AI to the hex-based puzzle game. Preloaded, the game's developers, have quite a bit of experience of working with Channel 4 on both promotional and educational games, and their experience shows. With enough compelling gameplay and some allegorical elements, they manage to wrap the subject matter around the mechanics and create an overall interesting and effective experience. The accomplished this same task with 1066 as well, their excellent game about Medieval warfare.

In modern culture, we largely avoid confronting death and dying, particularly with others. How we approach death is deeply personal, but not discussing our perception on the matter can be quite isolating. Indeed, The End is designed specifically to shatter the notion that our belief systems should remain private and unexplored. Play The End, and you may find yourself confronting death in a whole new way.

EXP Podcast #139: The Mega-Music Show

2011-08-31T12:35:00.000-07:00

This week's show is all about music games. It's a big topic, so Jorge and I recruited a talented trio of musicians and video game writers to help us out: Dan Apczynski, David Carlton, and Kirk Hamilton were all kind enough to stop by to discuss the merits of music games. We cover a huge swath of topics ranging from pedagogy, to musical philosophy, to Bon Jovi's genius. We've known Dan, David, and Kirk for a long time and it was a blast to have an excuse to hang out with them and record the show. Hopefully you all enjoy listening to our podcasting jam session as much as we enjoyed recording it. Thanks again to all our guests and thank you for listening!

And now, inspired by Kirk's reference, here's a kid playing Guitar Hero while solving Rubik's Cubes:

Some discussion starters:

- What is your take on the state of the music game genre?
- What do games like Rock Band teach us, both about music and game design?
- What are your hopes for the future of the genre?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 1 hr 15 min 34 sec
- "the beatles, rock band, and genre," by David Carlton, via malvasiabianca.org
- "Rock Band, Guitar Hero, and Musical Convergence," by Kirk Hamilton, via Kirkhamilton.com
- "Games of the decade: Rock Band," by Mitch Krpata, via insultswordfighting.blogspot.com
- Shameless self-promotion: "A Day in the Life," "I'm Looking Through You," and "Yesterday," posts about The Beatles: Rock Band by Scott
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Feed Updates

2011-08-31T12:07:00.000-07:00

Hi folks! In case you missed Jorge's programming note at the beginning of last week's podcast there have been some small changes to our various RSS feeds. Here's a quick run down:

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Being Annoyed by Catherine

2011-08-30T21:21:00.000-07:00

I usually avoid writing about a game before I finish it, but this week I'll make an exception for Catherine. I've held off on reading much criticism on Catherine, but I know it has generated a lot of insightful criticism, especially from Jorge and the rest of my fellow PopMatters writers. I'm looking forward to reading more of their commentary on Catherine's treatment of gender, relationships, and design after I finish the game. But before I do, I feel the need to gripe about what is probably a comparatively shallow topic: the game is extremely annoying.

Hell's bells

I get it: the constant, ominous ringing of the church bell at the top of the tower represents Vincent's inexorable progress towards an uncertain fate. It's a nice metaphor (if a bit on the nose) and it provides some heightened tension towards the end of the stages. But does it really have to keep ringing after the level is over?

Maybe it was specifically designed to grate on my nerves? I don't know how Vincent feels, but the maddening tempo and tone of that bell has become one of my most despised video game sounds. I find its constant ringing far more dreadful than any of the monsters that pursue Vincent as he scrambles up the tower.

I've taken to simply skipping most of the optional dialogue between levels in order quiet that infernal chime. It's a shame, as the dialog and voice acting in Catherine is reasonably good (if poorly mixed, but more on that later) and I'd like to talk to all the other wayward sheep. However, the price for being social is listening to that incessant ringing and my sanity just can't afford it. It's bad enough I have to listen to the game say "edge" every time two blocks become attached at their sides. As if the blue light that signifies a connection and the hundreds of previous "edge" announcements hadn't clued me in...

Speak up...WHY ARE YOU YELLING?

As an (admittedly) amateur audio editor, I appreciate the difficulty of achieving consistent sound levels over multiple audio tracks. Jorge and I try to keep the sonic peaks and valleys to a minimum on our podcast, but sometimes mistakes happen. However, the sound mixing problems in Catherine are truly baffling.

Why are the cutscenes drastically louder than the in-engine sound? Why must I adjust my volume between the bar and the tower sequences just to hear the dialog? I am honestly interested in the answer. I mean, when all else fails, can't you just ratchet down the gain? What about giving me some in-game audio options instead of making me reach for the remote every time the scene changes?

"What we got here is a failure to communicate"

Catherine is largely a story about miscommunication, and its dialog systems to an irritatingly good job of conveying this theme. Your responses to the game's questions flings the morality meter to and fro with little feedback as to why certain choices elicit moral shifts. Honestly, I can't get too worked up over this, as I think it is actually a clever representation of how seemingly benign conversations shape people's perceptions of one another. Sometimes you just can't make the rules in a social situation, but you're still bound by the very forces you don't understand. Still, being the downtrodden Cool Hand Luke to Catherine's arbitrarily punitive "Captain" can get wearisome.

Vincent's texting habit is also clever, but suffers from frustrating usability issues. Sending texts in lieu of having real conversations is the natural way to communicate for an evasive loser like Vincent, but the actual act of sending those texts is exasperating. Cycling through each reply option necessitates inputting and erasing the same line repeatedly until the choices repeat. While this isn't efficient, I do see the artistic statement that is made by forcing the player to mirror Vincent's indecision. Who hasn't deleted and restarted a text or email half a dozen times?

However, I think it's fair to say that most people have a "tone" in mind before they begin writing. This idea could be integrated into Catherine's dialog options in much the same way Mass Effect handles its communication: players could choose an abridged message option that hints at what will eventually be said. The player could choose from "apologetic" or "angry" without having to continually backtrack through dialog options. This would eliminate superfluous inputs and tedious backtracking while still allowing the writers creative room to give the final responses unexpected connotations, causing the player to erase them and choose something else.

A Slippery Slope

This is perhaps the most subjective irritant I have, but it's an important one. Something about the Catherine's controls feel off. It's difficult to articulate, but after multiple stages, Vincent's movement still feels unintentionally unpredictable. You would think that a game in which movement is locked to a grid would be precise, but I am constantly finding myself guessing as to how long I have to press a button down in order to get Vincent to move.

This is a problem when the stage is falling away at my feet and Vincent inexplicably climbs to the back of the tower rather than to the left like I expected. All too often I find myself frantically hanging off the side of a block, scooting past the square I want to be on, and messing with the camera. Maybe I've been spoiled by VVVVVV's precision movement or maybe Vincent's spastic clambering is a conscious decision. All I know is that it is frustrating.

Despite all this, I fully intend on finishing Catherine. My stubbornness and masochistic streak will ensure that. I do find the themes and concepts in Catherine interesting, but I keep coming back to the same question: Where is the line between purposefully pesky and accidentally aggravating? Once person's challenge is another person's nuisance, and I'm trying not to let my exasperation cloud my sight. Even so, it's awfully hard to admire a game that is so annoying.

In Defense of Spoiler Warnings

2011-08-25T22:52:00.000-07:00

This week's PopMatters post is about spoilers.

I'm sympathetic to Tom Bissell's frustration by gaming's obsession over spoilers. Too much tongue-biting stunts the critical discussion. While there is no consensus over how soon is "too soon," I think it's fair to assume that if you are reading a critical piece on a particular game, you take responsibility for your own exposure to spoilers. Maybe there should be a one year statute of limitations on warnings in general? Whatever the case, the ultimate onus is on the reader.

That being said, I am firmly of the opinion that spoilers matter, and that "going in blind" is an important experience, especially for critics. A recent study out of UC San Diego suggests that people find spoiled stories more "pleasurable" (whatever that means), but it's important to remember that stories are about more than hedonism.

Puzzling through an obscure narrative may not be as immediately pleasing as simply consuming the story, but such experiences are crucial learning experiences. Gaining the skills to make sense of a confusing situation is a skill applicable to life in general; life rarely offers convenient spoilers. From an artistic perspective, we must acknowledge that any preconceived notions impact our reactions to a piece of work. For those that say spoilers stunt the critical conversation, I ask the following: Is not an "unspoiled" perspective a legitimate, even useful perspective?

One of the most valuable things video games give players is the opportunity to make sense of new systems. Like literature and film, Video games tell stories with characters, plots, and cinematography. They also tell stories with mechanics: the player's journey from neophyte to an expert is a story about discover, learning, dedication, and practice. Being told that there is a secret block in level 1-1 in Super Mario Bros. is different from discovering it. In the former situation, the player is given the knowledge. In the latter situation, the player obtains the knowledge and has a story to tell afterwards. In my opinion, this is a far richer experience, and is one of the reason I avoid mechanical spoilers more seriously than I do plot-related spoilers.

Again, I'm not calling for critics to practice self-censorship. I am simply pushing back against those who would say that spoiler warnings are meaningless, especially when they claim to speak with empirical authority. Lively, honest discussion about games fosters a healthy critical community, but carelessly discarding the unspoiled experience destroys some of the rarest, most unique stories games provide.

EXP IndieCast #6: Traumatic Parables

2011-08-24T22:13:00.000-07:00

We have clicked though the photograph, plummeted through spiked filled tunnels, and shattered the fourth wall entirely on this week's independent games focused podcast. Join Scott and I as we journey through the surreal landscape of Trauma, flip ourselves upside-down in VVVVVV, and try to wrap our heads around the strange construction of The Stanley Parable. As always, we encourage you to check out these games on your own, listen to our discussion, then chime in with your thoughts in the comments section below.

Also, as you will hear in the episode, all listeners who subscribe to the show using the feedburner RSS feed will need to switch your subscription to the libsyn feed to keep the flow of juicy EXP podcasts coming. How you ask? Simple, just click the stand-alone feed below and subscribe as normal. We thank you all for your patience as we make some technical adjustments.

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 38min 21 sec
- VVVVVV
- Trauma
- The Stanley Parable
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Watching the Pros

2011-08-23T21:10:00.000-07:00

GamesCom, the largest game-related convention in Europe, just wrapped up its third annual showing. Held in Cologne, Germany, the event draws thousands of gamers, journalists, and industry insiders to appreciate and exhibit the latest industry happenings. It also draws seasoned gamers, the best of the best, to participate in weekend long tournaments. Blizzard, Riot, Valve, and others held championship games with some of the best players around, offering hefty awards to the victors. Valve went so far as to offer a one million dollar prize to the winners of their Defense of the Ancients 2 tournament. Riot upped the stakes by announcing a five million dollar purse to League of Legends Season 2 champions. While I will certainly never claim such a reward for myself, the act of watching tournament level play alone enhances my own gaming experiences.

Although I caught a few viewings of Starcraft 2 and DOTA 2, I paid most attention to the League of Legends tournament. If you have never watched tournament level play of a game with which you are familiar, I urge you to visit youtube fix this promptly. Eight LoL teams of five faced off over three days, changing their team’s composition and strategies during each match to outsmart and counter their opposition. The skills exhibited by these teams are mind-boggling. Individuals skirmishes occur with great intensity and precision, with pro-players managing their resources expertly while also demonstrating a supreme sense of spatial awareness. Team fights occur with precision, with players taking hits and getting out of combat as necessary, often before coming back and unleashing hell. Watch one match and it becomes perfectly clear why these players rank among the best in the world.

The difference between how I play LoL and how the pros play LoL is astronomical, and recognizing the difference dramatically changes how I view my own play. Watching someone pull off a near miracle with ease is humbling. I have trouble escaping ambushes all the time, yet I’ve seen pros face a group of five, take out two enemies, and then flash through the level geometry like a wizard, with just enough health to survive. At other times, I’ve watched a team chase down an enemy like a pack of hyenas on the hunt. In comparison, my own actions must look like the spasms of a child. As a result, I have started to constantly question my behavior. I now play safer in general, while taking greater risks in certain circumstances. If a pro can dive an enemy player low on health to snag a kill and get away easily, then maybe I can too.

My shame is abated whenever the minor deities at work falter. During one match, the knowledgeable shoutcasters called out a player for walking into bushes where the entire enemy team were waiting. It was clear, even to me, that “face-checking the bushes” was not a smart move. Of course I do this all the time, but this behavior is less risky when you are not playing against other championship opponents.

Watching high level play of any game, besides likely making you a better player, changes how you approach your own matches. Although I have not started playing more competitively, I have started paying greater attention to my own play styles, mistakes, and victories. If I am lucky and just skilled enough, a transcendent moment occurs where I do the impossible, leap into battle, play my cards just right, and seize an amazing victory. On occasion, with high level play in mind, I can feel like a pro.

Want to watch a match? You can view the recent GamesCom recaps here.

Sheep Men: Choice and Individuality in 'Catherine'

2011-08-18T15:20:00.000-07:00

My latest PopMatters article is no live! Sheep Men: Choice and Individuality in 'Catherine'.

I have a hard time thinking of a videogame protagonist I dislike more than Catherine's Vincent. The dolt has very few redemptive qualities, shows little if any foresight, and has the most sudden, bizarre, and incomprehensible character arc I have seen to date, regardless of what decisions players make. In regards to the greater themes through which Catherina navigates, I agree with Michael Abbott lamentation that "prime moments for player choice - situations that might lead one to fully explore Vincent’s darker desires - are off the table." In some ways I feel bamboozled by Catherine's marketing and risque subject matter. It was a weird game, yes, but it fell far short of expectations.

In regards to the tower-climbing puzzle levels, I actually quite enjoyed the gameplay. Various reviews cite the Catherine's sudden difficulty spikes. Knowing of this complaint going in, I played the entire game on easy. In this mode at least, the difficulty seldom posed any serious problems. There were certainly a few daunting moments in each section that took a frustratingly long amount of time to surpass. The worst puzzle sections demand one specific solution from the player. If the solution does not come quickly, then you will likely force your way through the puzzle using trial and error.

The fact players can make the game more difficult for themselves while playing is an interesting part of Catherine's gameplay. One might make a staircase to reach a certain point only to realize the same staircase now impedes their progress. Alternatively, pushing blocks out of the tower entirely to cause entire sections to lower can both help and hinder players. With the higher reaches sometimes difficult to comprehend from Vincent's vantage point, even with a quick camera peek, the strategy proves quite risky. At times, however, one quick push of a block can result in a beautifully elegant solution opening up before your own eyes.

Each of the puzzle segments, themselves composed of three or four stages, add new block types or reward new strategies, making for compelling adjustments to play styles. In certainly behooves players to learn techniques from their fellow sheep, some of which become invaluable in subsequent stages. By game's end, I found myself quite confident in my abilities, speeding through towers until I hit one or two snags, and then forcing my way through using trial and error. I should say I made liberally use of the "undo" feature available, I believe, only in easy mode. The game plays far better as a puzzle than a race against time. If you do want to give Catherine a try, I encourage you to play it on easy. Also, do your best to drown in Vincent's incessant whining and remember you're just a sheep in the herd.

Image from ~ClydeVII via Deviant Art.

EXP Podcast #138: The Halo: Reach Recap

2011-08-17T10:19:00.000-07:00

Jorge and I love talking about Halo almost as much as we love playing it. This week, we discuss what was supposedly Bungie's last Halo game: Halo: Reach. It's a wide-ranging conversation that encompasses everything from the gameplay systems to the grand plot of the Halo universe. As always, feel free to join in with your thoughts and comments.

Some discussion starters:

- For those of you who played the game: What are your thoughts?
- What challenges and opportunities do video game prequels present?
- What aspects of Halo do you wish to see Bungie bring into their next project? What should they leave behind?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 46 min 19 sec
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Six Vs and Me

2011-08-16T22:16:00.000-07:00

I wanted to start writing this post a bit earlier, but I was so close to grabbing that tempting shiny trinket. I could finally see the the path I needed to take in order to avoid the spikes and hit every crucial bounce wire.

"Just a few more tries," I thought.

One minute and ten failures later, I still had nothing to show for my efforts. "A couple more tries," I promised myself.

After what felt like several dozen deaths, I looked at the clock and realized five more minutes had slipped by. I figured that wasn't such a bad time/failure ratio and decided to give it a few more tries. After all, I had perfected my strategy; it was only a question of whether my fingers would cooperate.

When I hit the fifteen minute mark, I still didn't have a trinket. I did, however, have a deep admiration for VVVVVV.

Like N and Super Meat Boy, VVVVVV tempers its punishing difficulty with a generous checkpoint system and extremely precise control. You'll die hundreds of times in VVVVVV, but you'll know exactly why you died and what you can do to prevent it from happening again. The game's gravitational tricks are initially disorienting, but the consistency of its sparse, 2D worlds makes it easy to learn the rules. Every challenge requires some combination of gravitational inversions. There's no middle ground: you're either right side up or upside down. As simple as this to grasp intellectually, keeping the rules straight while maintaining coordination is anything but easy.

My words can't do justice to VVVVVV's inventive platforming sequence, so I'll offer a video of my favorite level. I can't even imagine how long it took for whoever is playing this to pull off:

There is so much going on here from a design perspective. VVVVVV discards the traditional jump mechanic that is the hallmark of almost every other platformer ever created. The floor and ceiling have to function as a cohesive unit in order for the level to work. The sides of the level aren't hard boundaries, which gives rise to an MC Escher effect that only becomes more pronounced in the game's later levels. The player is forced to constantly ascend to avoid the lower spikes, but if they leap up before looking, they hit a second set of ceiling spikes that scroll upward. This is both a punishment and a teaching mechanism: it prevents players from "cheating" by making blind jumps, but it also communicates that such blind jumps are unnecessary. Checkpoints sprinkled throughout the sequence sooth failure's sting while optional treasures provide heightened challenge for those who seek it.

All these things remind of the last great platformer I played, Super Mario Galaxy 2. Both games offer intense challenges, but their ingenious designs and consistent rules elegantly convey their gravity defying mechanics. In some ways, VVVVVV is even more impressive because it does all this in two dimensions with only two inputs: run and flip.

This simplicity makes VVVVVV's level editor an attractive prospect. I've been wanting to tool around with some level design for a while now, and VVVVVV's low technical requirements and spartan sensibilities are appealing. I think I'll read through some tutorials and then start messing around a little bit. Putting this on the site should be good incentive to keep up with it. I'll be sure to report back with my results (and solicit playtests if/when the need arises!). Maybe I'll even turn it into a regular feature with updates about the learning process.

But before I get back into the level editor, I'll just try to get that token a few more times. Or maybe a few dozen more times. It will probably only take a minute...

Getting to Know Zelda

2011-08-11T14:08:00.000-07:00

This week, my PopMatters post is about Zelda.

In this case, "Zelda" isn't shorthand for the franchise title "The Legend of Zelda." I'm talking about the Princess herself. I recently finished The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks and was pleasantly surprised to find that Zelda was an active participant in the adventure. She usually spends the majority of the game imprisoned or in hiding, emerging only at the end to offer Link a tightly-scripted helping hand. Spirit Tracks bucks this trend by pairing Link and Zelda at the beginning of the game and forcing the player to master both characters' unique skills.

The Zelda series is regularly criticized for being stagnant. Some of this criticism is deserved: its overall format haven't changed much since the early 1990s and the games' specific plots are essentially interchangeable. However, in terms of specific design choices, they remain some of the most clever games out there. Every challenge builds on the last by forcing the player to learn new uses for old tools and apply some actual thought to discerning the puzzles' solutions. The Zelda games are about the player mirroring Link's transition from novice to master through developing skills rather than grinding for experience or groping around for a random solution.

Still, it's all grown very familiar to veteran players. Link's bombs might have multiple distinct uses, but they're the same uses we discovered years ago. Spirit Tracks shakes up the routine by including Zelda as a playable character, one who has drastically different abilities with novel applications. This creates a familiar sense of growth over the course of the game while adding some welcome variety to Link's traditional arsenal.

From a plot perspective, I love seeing Zelda and Link actually interact with each other. Zelda herself is usually a non-entity, and her relationship with Link is usually taken as a given. Spirit Tracks isn't a masterpiece, but it does manage to give Zelda a personality in its own quiet way. The combination of Zelda's amusing dialog and her ludic contributions in some of the dungeons reminds me of the dynamic between the Prince and Elika in 2008's Prince of Persia. Both games include princesses in danger, but neither is reduced to simply playing a damsel in distress.

So, what is the future of Zelda as a character? The trailers for the forthcoming Skyward Sword don't inspire confidence, as they suggest she'll be returning to her role as a prize to be won at the end of the game rather than a meaningful character. This is a shame because Zelda's involvement in Spirit Tracks, modest though it may be, is a breath of fresh air in an often-stuffy series.

EXP Podcast #137: Cross-Media Legends and Downfalls

2011-08-10T15:51:00.000-07:00

Last week Scott and I discussed Mark Filipowich's article on cross-media storytelling. Out of that podcast came a challenge: We would put Mark's theories to the test by watching Halo Legends and Dead Space: Downfall. We have returned with our lives, if not our dignity, intact, bringing you our views on these films and what they add/take-away from their parent franchises. If you rank amongst our bravest listeners, you joined us on this journey and we encourage you to leave your own thoughts in the comments section below. If you have not watched them but are curious enough to do so, both films are currently streaming on Netflix for those with the service.

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 42 min 13 sec
- "Games and Cross-Media Storytelling," by Mark Filipowich, via PopMatters
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Review: Limbo

2011-08-10T12:03:00.000-07:00

My review of Limbo is up over at PopMatters.

I was excited to finally play it, as the game caused quite a stir last year. Even now, it still provokes strong feelings. The people that loved it and those that hated it provided one another with enough rhetorical kindling to keep the debate alive for the better part of a year.

I was ready to fall into one of the extreme camps, but I ultimately had a fairly neutral experience. I didn't like it as much as Brad Shoemaker. I didn't hate it as much as Mitch Krpata. I wasn't as moved by its themes as Kirk Hamilton. There were flashes of brilliance alongside some questionable design choices. Ultimately, I decided that the game looks like it has a lot to say, but never commits to making any meaningful artistic statements.

My thoughts on Limbo's sound design didn't make it into the review, but it definitely deserves praise. Limbo is a very quiet game, but its sound effects are more than just aural set dressing. In several instances, sections of the puzzles are off-screen and sound effects serve as crucial clues. It made me realize how often I take sound for granted when playing a game. Sometimes it can be tempting to tune out background noise or to start multitasking by listening to music or a podcast while playing a game. Limbo requires the attention of your eyes, hands, and ears, which makes it a great example of how a game's sound works with the mechanics and visuals to create a rich experience.

I'm interested to see what Limbo's developer, Playdead, will create next. Clearly, they have a talent for creating intriguing game environments and evoking strong feelings. Hopefully, the underlying mechanical and thematic messages in their next game can match these strengths.

Vampiric Temptations

2011-08-09T22:55:00.000-07:00

As many of you have experienced first hand, Steam sales have an enthralling power. When classic high-quality games go on sale for less than a deli club, I have serious trouble resisting spontaneous buys. Thus, when I saw Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines for just five dollars, a game that has earned a minor cult following and a great deal of critical praise well after release, I took the first opportunity to purchase it. Developed by Troika Games and released in 2004, VTMB suffered from numerous bugs upon release. While many of these technical problems have been fixed, many still exist today. In my effort to overcome these issues and create a better play experience, I am tempting myself with power a player should never have.

After installing VTMB, my first goal was to install the “Unofficial Patch,” a community made collection of improvements that address a vast amount of bugs plaguing the game. In my pursuit of home-brewed fixes, I happened upon a fairly rich selection of player generated mods. Some offer new quest lines, others gameplay adjustments or character re-skins. If I so choose, I can make the background NPCs more appealing or re-texture bland environments.

The older a game is, the more intrigued I am at the prospect of breaking its rules. Surely we have all felt, at one time or another, the temptation to bend a game to our liking. Justifying game adjustments demands an assessment of the developer’s intent. Vampire’s unofficial patch repairs serious flaws that Troika never intended to appear in the game. Perhaps they would have also approved of the addon I installed to improve NPC eye textures, giving their characters a more realistic and alluring look. Would enhancing the game's diner environment be going to far? What about modernizing character outfits?

The line between cheating and simply “adjusting” game elements is thin. At one point while playing VTMB, I encountered a bug that locked me behind a gate that needed crossing. In order to pass the barrier, I opened the console tool and turned on noclip mode, allowing me to move through the game’s geometry. Once the console was open, I could do almost anything with the game. Unsatisfied with Vampire’s ranged combat mechanics, I gave myself experience points to make up for wasted points allotted in firearms. While stuck in a particularly difficult warehouse, my skills not high enough to overcome my situation as stealthy as I wished, I turned on notarget, making me invisible to the enemies I effortlessly slipped behind and finished off.

Alright, I’ll admit I cheated, and here is why:VTMB is almost a great game. Within the first two hours of play, I knew it offered something special. Unfortunately the best parts seem buried beneath frustratingly unpolished mechanics. I am trying to resist the urge to abandon normal play entirely, making my character a minor deity amongst vampires, but the temptation is strong. While I feel comfortable making the game my own, with too much power in my hands, I may end up sacrificing a meaningful experience in pursuit of a better game.

Divine Responsibility in From Dust

2011-08-04T23:23:00.000-07:00

This post is part of "The Sensationalist," a continuing series here at Experience Points in which we examine games' abilities to evoke emotions and sensations in video game players. Please have a look at the series' introduction as well its previous entries.

My latest PopMatters article is now live: Divine Responsibility in From Dust.

My original plan for this article was to discuss the sensation of responsibility in games in general using From Dust as a jumping off point. As a god game, however, From Dust raised too many interesting themes to casually brush aside.

On the subject of responsibility alone, I believe there is an inverse relationship between the sensation of responsibility and the scale of the game. I have written before about how successfully Bioshock 2 creates a unique parental bond between Eleanor and Delta. Ico similarly creates a bond of responsibility between the protagonist and Yorda. These relationships are not predicated on weak supporting characters. I felt deeply responsible for the fate of my team in Mass Effect 2, despite knowing they were all loyal and proven soldiers. The tribesmen of From Dust are far more dependent on the player than the crew of the normandy is on Shepard, yet my feelings of responsibility dwindled as the game progressed and I become both more powerful and more busy.

How can we talk about a god game without talking about god? Naturally, my mixed feelings about the game's attempt to personalize the relationship between the player and her flock brought reflected some of my own interests in divinity and spirituality in From Dust. I should say I am not a religious person. I am agnostic at my most devout, although I find religion a deeply interesting and important topic. While contemplating the prayers From Dust's villagers shout to the heavens and my own mostly catholic upbringing, I wondered how my island inhabitants would interpret the failings of their minor deity. As I grew distant, why did they not turn to a different god, perhaps the one causing all the devastation in the first place?

From Dust is a decent experience and more than a little interesting, but when think upon my time spend with the villagers I feel sadly disconnected. I feel uncomfortable playing an impersonal and inadequate god who fails to maintain divine responsibility.

EXP Podcast #136: Cross-media 'Cast

2011-08-03T10:51:00.000-07:00

Today, it feels like more games than ever enjoy an "expanded universe." Books, TV shows, comics, and movies all develop worlds and characters that first appeared in video games. This might be great for devoted fans, but what does it imply about games' abilities to stand on their own? This week, we use Mark Filipowich's article on cross-media storytelling as a starting point for discussing the ways in which supplemental media affect the stories games try to tell. We also lay out some plans for a cross-media adventure that will be the topic for a future show. As always, we're glad to have you all along for the ride and look forward to reading your comments!

Some discussion starters:

- What are some of your favorite examples of game-related cross-media storytelling and why are they effective?
- How can we separate marketing cash-ins from legitimate additions to a game's story?
- Does an abundance of ancillary material degrade in-game content? How can games tell stories that stand on their own?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 32 min 00 sec
- "Games and Cross-Media Storytelling," by Mark Filipowich, via PopMatters
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

3D Day Dreams

2011-08-02T20:58:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about the 3D since reading Jorge's post on 3D gaming's lack of high-profile proponents. Between the 3DS' lackluster debut, the shaky 3D movie market, and the relatively small number of 3D television sets in people's homes, the future of 3D technology still looks a bit blurry.

Jorge called on people like Ken Levine to lead gaming into the third dimension. Ken seems like a busy guy, so I thought I'd throw out a few ideas as to how to integrate 3D in meaningful ways. I'll preface this by saying that I am in no way an expert on the technological capabilities of 3D technology. For all I know, these ideas might be technologically impossible. This is more about theoretical design applications. However, if 3D technology can't at least implement parts of these ideas, I think we should ask some hard questions about what 3D has to offer the medium in the first place.

With that being said, here are some of my 3D day dreams:

1. "Reaching" with avatars

While playing Super Smash Bros. Brawl recently, I was reacquainted with the smash ball and the frantic chaos it brings to a match. I started to think about widening the range of the smash ball's movement with 3D. Although Smash Bros. has a 2D perspective, the characters and stages have depth. Perhaps 3D would allow for players to "reach" into the foreground just as they can dodge into the background? The auto-grab button could be converted into the 3D grab/attack button to allow players to strike at things drifting outside the screen.

The problem with this idea is that most of it could be accomplished with simple perspective work (make the ball bigger to suggest it is "closer" to the player, just as making something smaller suggests it is more "distant"), which suggests that 3D is not crucial to implementing this idea.

2. "Deep" platforming

2D side-scrollers often have platforms that glide left and right. I'd be interested in whether 3D displays could simulate platforms that glide front to back. Ideally, as a platform moved into the foreground, it would seem to disappear from the screen and exist mainly in the player's room rather than the TV screen. The player would then have to time their jump to coincide with the platform's return to "inside" the screen.

The problem with this idea is that it is basically necessitates a hologram rather than a screen-bound image. 3D is an illusion drawn from objects on the screen and what I'm envisioning requires the on-screen platform to almost completely disappear as it moves towards the player. Without an on-screen platform, I doubt a 3D platform could exist.

3. Split screen gaming

In my opinion, the most promising and practical application of 3D technology is exemplified by Sony's forthcoming TV that will allow two players to see separate images on the same screen. True, such technology is still bound to irritating, expensive, and goofy looking glasses, but the idea of having multiple parallel game states running goes beyond the simple visual tricks commonly associated with 3D.

Sony is touting its TV as a great solution for multiplayer gaming, but I'm just as intrigued with its single-player possibilities. It would be cumbersome to continually fumble with glasses, but a game like Henry Hatsworth on the Nintendo DS offers a model of how 3D technology might be put to more dynamic uses. Just as Henry Hatsworth has players switch between side-scrolling action on the top screen and match-three puzzles on the bottom, games with polarized glasses could offer experiences that simultaneously mix disparate art styles and genres.

Of these three admittedly half-baked ideas, only the last one has strong gameplay applications. I'd say the first two fall into the rut 3D already finds itself in: they are visual gimmicks. In his article, Jorge quoted Scorsese who said that, when filming in 3D: "Every shot is rethinking cinema, rethinking narrative—how to tell a story with a picture." Scorsese may have unwittingly articulated the reason 3D gaming hasn't taken off: "video games" rely on more than visuals to tell their stories.

Polygonal environments, force feedback, motion control: all these successful technological advancements did more than change the way games look; they changed how they "feel." Designers and critics have spent countless hours arguing that gameplay tells a story that is just as important as the ones told by art, sound, and dialog, if not more so. This is what makes the current 3D fad so worrisome: no one is talking about its mechanical applications. The mainstream industry is lurching halfheartedly towards a new technology without a plan, simply because it seems like the thing to do.

At this point, I could see 3D following the trajectory that full motion video followed: a brief boom followed by the realization that it is only useful if applied judiciously in highly constrained situations. Hopefully, I'm wrong and someone more talented than me will find a way to integrate 3D in way that is as functional as it is ornamental. Today's 3D technology is a fancy visual illusion created to suggest that things exist when, in reality, they do not. This is fine in movies, which are only meant to be watched. Games, however, are meant to be touched. If 3D can't add anything to the interactive, dynamic process that is playing a game, its ultimate importance is more illusory than the images it creates.

Youth in the Age of Mortal Kombat

2011-07-28T15:57:00.000-07:00

My latest post at PopMatters is about growing up alongside Mortal Kombat.

It's kind of a weird essay: part history, part memoir, and a heaping serving of nostalgia all rolled up into a package I hope will seem familiar to some folks out there. The past few months have been full of Mortal Kombat for me. The release of the latest game last spring coincided with some reading I was doing about the U.S. video game rating system as well as the general media climate of the 1990s. Everywhere I turned, I saw Mortal Kombat's influence.

It's hard to be serious when discussing Mortal Kombat. The game is inherently goofy. Its exaggerated violence and ridiculous characters simultaneously create and mock video game stereotypes. As far as I can tell, Mortal Kombat has never been about making a grand political statement or leading a cultural zeitgeist. So why do I think that this game about blood and guts is so important?

The answer is because people treated it seriously. Ignorant politicians and clueless Baby Boomers saw it as a sign of America's moral decline (or at least a good chance to snag some easy political capital). The older generation's disdain only stoked my enthusiasm: not only was I doing something adults couldn't understand, they were also scared of it. Mortal Kombat, and video games more broadly, became a space to carve out some cultural independence. My friends and I were having fun, but we were also solidifying common generational touchstones. Years later, the phrase "Finish him!" still elicits knowing grins from many twenty and thirty-somethings.

The medium has changed a lot since the original Mortal Kombat's heyday. The newest game is probably the most polished, sophisticated version of Mortal Kombat I've ever played. Despite this, its biggest attraction for me stems largely from nostalgia. It's a kind of nostalgia that runs deeper than the pleasure of seeing familiar sights or hearing old music; Mortal Kombat reminds me of a time when I started to become the person I am today.

EXP Podcast #135: Overrated

2011-07-27T13:45:00.000-07:00

Does the entire world love a game that you despise? You are not alone! We invited games journalist and brave contrarian Mitch Krpata on the show this week to discuss his criticism of Ocarina of Time, the value of terrible games, love/hate relationships with indie games, and more. As always, you can find Mitch's original article and more of his work in the show notes below. We encourage you to share your own isolating experiences in the comments section below.

Discussion starters:
- What are some games you have disliked that everyone else seems to enjoy?
- Is there a value in playing a game you despise?
- What are the dangers of universally praised games?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 49 min 57 sec
- "Hey! Listen! The Case Against Ocarina of Time," by Mitch Krpata, via Joystick Division
- Insult Swordfighting blog by Mitch Krpata
- "Review: Limbo," by Mitch Krpata via The Boston Phoenix- "Mass Effect: Massive Interface Fail," by Krystian Majewski via Game Design Reviews
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

Choice in the Bastion

2011-07-26T23:20:00.000-07:00

In a post released today on PopMatters, Kris Ligman rightly describes Bastion’s narrative as both entrancing and confining. As she states, “It wasn’t long at all until I felt like I was being held captive by the narrative, rather than engaging with it. I have known scripted cutscenes that have felt more interested in player agency than this.” Yet this gives the game a "truly strange and wonderfully entrancing" feel. SuperGiant Games, their first title released as part of Microsoft’s “Summer of Arcade,” managed to use Bastion’s linearity to make a game about choice.

The world of Bastion is constructed of floating tiles, the remnants of a once great city succumbed to a mysterious “calamity.” The remaining pieces of the environment appear before The Kid, the game’s protagonist, as he walks, supplying narrow pathways and arenas through which he navigates. The map very much constrains the player, veer to far in either direction and the Kid might fall off into the void. The world map itself ushers players along in with few divergences or options.

The game’s dynamism comes from its rich RPG elements. Players have a great deal of choice when it comes to how they want to play. With eleven unique weapons, each with five tiers of upgrade options, ten possible tonics to equip that grant passive bonuses, and an assortment of special skills to employ in battle, the amount of combat combinations is enormous. Additionally, players can invoke deities to make combat more difficult.

All of these choices matter. Besides weapon combinations, the divine invocation that make the game harder also dramatically affect gameplay. While some simply make enemies more resiliant, others make them quicker or cause grenades to drop upon death, forcing players to adapt accordingly. These gameplay decisions are also informed by the game’s narrative. Ruck, Bastion’s narrator, comments on player decisions as they occur (although not with such frequency as to become annoying). Select a certain weapon combination, and the player might hear “That’s just plain overkill. Come on.” Ruck might also comment on your favored weapon of choice, recognizing your preferred play style. Additionally, the weapons, gods, and abilities all tie into the game lore. The play choices reflect the Kid’s relationship to the past and future of Bastion, making them deeply personally and narratively significant.

There are only two traditional narratives choices during the end of the game, neither of which I will spoil here. Both decisions, particularly the final one, are emotionally powerful. In a world devastated by hatred and the folly's of the past, the games asks, what does it mean to forgive? How do we make amends for the choices of others? By asking these questions in the confinement of the game, Bastion reminds us that even in constrained environments, our decisions matter.

Prepping the 3D Audience

2011-07-21T20:02:00.000-07:00

My latest PopMatters article is now live: Prepping the 3D Audience.

It seems common knowledge that software sells hardware. If there were enough interesting 3DS games on the market, then maybe Nintendo would have higher than expected sales numbers. I personally know only one person with a 3DS, and they have abandoned the handheld since launch. The 3D market is languishing because there are no great games on the platform, but that is but one reason.

We quickly get stuck in a chicken and egg problem when we ponder the dearth of quality 3D titles. Is the 3D consumer market too small because there are not enough interesting games? Or are there not enough interesting games because developers and publishers believe the 3D consumer market too small? Clearly both are problematic.

Even now, upconversion of film to 3D is commonplace and often poorly implemented. Yet the sales boost from these conversions have generally rewarded producers with increased revenue. For the most part, we have come to expect a slew of gimmicky 3D films, with a few nestled gems hidden within (Did anyone else love How To Train Your Dragon?). Developers and publishers must overcome this expectation of 'gimmickyness' we have built up.

I have no doubt that, done well, 3D gaming technology could greatly enhance a gaming experience. Indeed, games built specifically for 3D could be commonplace amongst the best games released every year. Yet game developers and consumers must be convinced of the technology's value. This process does not require a title of epic proportions, a 3D Halo or the like. What we need is a designer or development team willing to experiment, to take a risk on our behalf simply to explore the technology's potential. We need a James Cameron or Scorsese who can not only push boundaries but teach others how to better employ 3D visuals.

Who would I like to see become these spokespersons? I would pick Ken Levine, Jenova Chen, and Cliff Bleszinski as my vanguard. Who would you choose to prep our 3D gaming audience?

EXP IndieCast #5: A Conversation with Peter Brinson

2011-07-20T12:04:00.000-07:00

This week, Jorge and I are happy to welcome Peter Brinson to the show. Peter was one of the lead designers on The Cat and the Coup, a independent game about the 1953 CIA-orchestrated Iranian coup. After talking about The Cat and the Coup on a previous show, we thought it would be a great idea to have Peter on to learn more about the game's inception as well as his approach to incorporating history, art, and design in creating a documentary game. As we said before, we highly recommend the game. Thanks again to Peter for taking the time to chat with us and thanks also to everyone listening. We hope you enjoy the show!

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 53 min 47 sec
- You can download The Cat and the Coup for free and learn more about its subject matter on the official website: http://www.thecatandthecoup.com/ The game is also available on Steam.
- La Maison en Petits Cubes
- The Power of Nightmares
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

The Mean Streets of Assassin's Creed

2011-07-19T22:29:00.000-07:00

As part of my summer sojourn into the recent past, I finished playing the first Assassin's Creed. Despite its flaws, I enjoyed my time with the game and its surprisingly dense environments. Although there is plenty of repetition in terms of character models and ambient dialogue, I feet that the game captures the essence of what it is like to walk through a crowded city. In particular, Assassin's Creed's beggars and panhandlers give the game's world a recognizable, albeit sad, sense of authenticity.

When I play open world games, the environment usually becomes a glorified obstacle course. The skyscrapers in Infamous become obstacles and the vast expanse of Red Dead Redemption acts as dead space between settlements. Human NPCs quickly become moving set dressing that I usually ignore unless I see a colorful "!" above their head. These familiar quest-givers exist in Assassin's Creed, but so do beggars, whose actions influence the game more subtly.

Assassin's Creed affords no real way to help these down and out digital denizens, but they still impact the player's experience. I can't recall another game in which characters would run up and begin touching my avatar, impeding his progress while soliciting money. I've lived in urban areas of California most of my life, which means I'm no stranger to homelessness and aggressive panhandling. I found myself performing the virtual equivalent of an act familiar to many city-dwelling folk: don't stop, don't engage in conversation, justify your
rejection ("My taxes help him...I give to charity...It's probably a scam...He'll just end up buying booze, etc.") and stay focused on the task at hand. I'm sure overthrowing the Templars will do more for the downtrodden a few shekels. Their plight, tragic as it was, could not be solved with a blade and was thus relegated to the back burner.

Try as I might to live on the rooftops and take in the city as an elevated observer, I often found myself on the ground, surrounded by the people I sought to ignore. Though Assassin's Creed has no formal "morality" system, panhandlers do present a dilemma. I routinely found my progress slowed by an insistent beggar. As arrows zipped past my head, I cursed the pushy panhandlers that had knocked me into a group of surly guards. Occasionally, I'd lose my temper and shove people to the ground and out of my way. Any satisfaction in doing so was short lived: aggressive actions either alerted the guards or elicited jeers and disapproving shouts from other citizens. At times, it was hard not to feel like a jerk, even though I knew they were only virtual people.

For me, the beggars in Assassin's Creed demonstrate that games don't have to express morality quantitatively in order to effectively explore the concept. True, being rude to the beggars invites mechanical penalties, but their biggest impact comes on an emotional level. The beggars were designed to frustrate me and they did so splendidly: I was frustrated that they were getting in my way, frustrated that I couldn't do anything to help them, frustrated that I would sometimes give in selfishness and treat them cruelly, and frustrated that all of these feelings were uncomfortably familiar.

Turning the game off silenced the pleading, desperation, and hostility of Assassin's Creed's world. I could walk away, confident in my powerlessness. I couldn't help those people; it just wasn't in the programming, but I still felt a twinge of guilt now and then.

Such twinges were sharpened when I realized that my attitude towards medieval Jerusalem's poor was a derivative of my experiences in real, contemporary cities. Retreating into the relatively luxurious privilege of my daily life doesn't mean that San Francisco's streets have been switched off. Helping real people might not be simple or easy, but it is possible, which makes the similarity between my responses to virtual and real panhandling all the more troubling.

My Reconciliation with Uncharted

2011-07-14T09:29:00.000-07:00

This week's PopMatters post is about the recent Uncharted 3 multiplayer beta.

I've talked a lot of mess about Uncharted's single-player design in the past, but that hasn't stopped me from thoroughly enjoying the multiplayer mode. In short, it incorporates all of the innovations popularized by Modern Warfare and Gears of War without sacrificing Uncharted's unique traversal dynamics and vibrant art style. In fact, I argue that Uncharted's gorgeous visuals and platforming systems are more meaningful in the multiplayer context than they are in the single player context. Instead of dopey AI and scripted jumping sequences, you have to deal with human enemies actively looking to use the world to their advantage (and to your disadvantage).

I'm not sure anyone has made this comparison, but I feel like Uncharted might be what a modern-day Jet Force Gemini game would look like. The third person view is unique and allows for more intricate platforming, but the game is still heavily dedicated to shooting. I'm not sure how many people played it, but I still remember that game fondly.

Finally, the Uncharted 3 multiplayer beta has me thinking about the nature of "betas" in general. There are a handful of things I think could be improved (melee is still wonky, double kills happen frequently, and there is some interface stuff that could use work), but the overall experience is extremely polished. I imagine Naughty Dog is looking at the statistics very carefully and tweaking the networking and matchmaking systems, but I don't expect many changes in the final version. Instead, this seems like a great opportunity to get people hyped up for the game.

I doubt a company like Naughty Dog could afford to put out a true work in progress. The triple-A market is packed with shooters and, with Modern Warfare 3 lurking around the corner, it would be suicide to try to introduce people to a half-baked product. It's telling that (as is the case with many console "betas") there is no in-game way to report a bug or send feedback. This strengthens my belief that, in addition to testing the game, modern betas are equally important as advertisements. They act as demos, giving people a taste of the what the full game has in store and stoking excitement in the months leading up to the full release.

I'm not sure how much I like this, but I do know that it works: after playing the multiplayer beta, I can't wait for Uncharted 3.

EXP Podcast #134: Currently Playing

2011-07-13T14:35:00.000-07:00

The summer gaming dry spell is upon us, yet Scott and I both have our gaming dockets full. After a long month of work for the both us, we have returned to our backlog with a ravenous appetite. This week on the Experience Points podcast, Scott and I discuss what we have been playing, from Zelda sequels to isometric shooters, and a few things in between. Let us know what you have been enjoying lately in the comments section below, and be sure to chime in with your thoughts on the games we've discussed in the show.

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

- Run time: 32 min 18 sec
- "Cold As Ice," by Nels Anderson via Above49
- Music provided by Brad Sucks

F3AR for 2wo

2011-07-12T23:01:00.000-07:00

F.3.E.A.R or, as I will henceforth call it, Fear 3, lacks the compelling story and atmosphere to make it a great game. Confusing level design and some infuriating enemy types also hinder the experience. Admittedly I am completely new to the franchise, which severely hinders my ability to understand anything going on, but the game is unforgiving of my newness. Having abandoned its horror roots, Fear 3 is a decent shooter at best; that is until a second player joins the match. Cooperative play, like Steve Rogers’ super serum, can turn a weak game into a marvel. With a friend along for the ride, Fear 3 overcomes many of its nuisances. Highly authored stories aside, I wonder why I should ever bother playing a single-player first-person shooter again.

To be clear, Fear 3’s cooperative mode differs from others quite significantly. Rather than play a duplicate of Point Man, the game’s protagonist, coop partners control his ghostly brother Paxton. A spectre with just enough corporeality to receive bullet wounds, Paxton’s abilities are quite unique. Armed with an endless supply of “mind bullets,” he can fire on enemies from afar as though armed with a pistol. In his ethereal form, Paxton cannot wield weapons. He can, however, levitate enemies and most notably, possess them. The second player can leap across the battlefield with the possession ability, taking control of particularly troublesome or distant enemies for a short period of time.

More than just a clever gimmick, the possession mechanic vastly improves Fear 3’s combat encounters. In the single-player game, intelligent AI and room layouts force players to constantly move from cover to cover, never quite getting the advantage over opponents. The game feels more hectic than strategic. By giving a second player the ability to essentially teleport across the room, coop partners can devise offensive plans on the fly, flanking enemies in an instant or drawing fire as necessary. During most battles, I found myself calling out targets for my partner to dispatch while I positions myself to help their forward movement. Likewise, my teammate would describe which enemies he possessed and their weapon loadout, keeping me knowledgeable about our circumstances.

Paxton offers a completely different play experience than Point Man. Possession lasts only for a short period of time, but can be extended by picking up orbs dropped by enemies. Since the possessed soldier body must be killed first, the coop partner has every incentive to dive into the fray, killing as many enemies as possible without too much concern. Even the suicide bomber enemy types (uninspired annoyances in most games, perhaps save for the Gears of War and Halo series), are entertaining when players can take them over and become walking explosives.

While my paranormal partner and I are only halfway through the game, I see no reason to continue without them. I can safely say were it not for its clever use of cooperative play, Fear 3 would hold no interest for me. In fact, I am most shooters seem increasingly irrelevant without cooperative play. The one exception, of course, is the much anticipated Bioshock: Infinite. But what if Irrational were to allow someone else to join the battle? I might be even more eager to explore Columbia with a friend.

'Tiny Tower' Ethics

2011-07-07T20:44:00.000-07:00

My latest PopMatters article is now live: Tiny Tower Ethics.

I'll happily receive the brunt of the blame for my dissatisfaction with Tiny Tower. I should have known to turn off notifications immediately. I should never have allowed it to wake me up moments before falling into deep sleep to remind me to tend my wares, and I should have gotten up to obey its command.

Brendan Keogh wrote an excellent review of the game over at Paste which I recommend you check out. While he gave the game an eight, my criticisms are in no way incompatible with his praise. In fact, some of his descriptions of the game could have easily merged with mine:

"Tiny Tower is a drug, easily enjoyed and easily abused. In moderation it is an absolute blast to play, with compelling-yet-simplistic gameplay, an intuitive interface and utterly adorable visuals. Yet, to play Tiny Tower only ‘in moderation’ can be more challenging than the game itself."

The game does compel one to play it, and it does so with its approachable interface and adorable visuals. No one can deny the cuteness of a tiny mini-golf course. The game also mimics the MMO reward system in which I gain levels by doing mundane tasks and am driven on by the desire to acquire yet more levels. Jonathon Blow criticized World of Warcraft for delivering what he called artificial rewards, delivered specifically to exploit a psychological button of which designers are well aware. In an interview he did in 2007, he states:

"I actually think that Skinnerian reward scheduling in general (which you see in most modern game design, MMOs being the canonical example) is unethical and games should not do it... scheduled rewards, to keep the player playing, are a sure sign that the core gameplay itself is not actually rewarding enough to keep them playing, and thus you are deceiving your players into wasting their lives playing your game."

The core gameplay of Tiny Towers extends into the real world, asking players to manage their personal time in service to the game. While Brendan Keogh on Facebook rightly points out that the game does not punish players with a lose condition, I can personally dish out enough punishment on my own. Humans are amazingly adept at admonishing themselves with guilt or shame on their own, even without the help of bitizens moaning about closed shops on their faux facebook or my friends overshadowing my own tower.

This is not the first time I have criticized a game for unethical design. I denounced Pokemon in an older article for its artificial rewards as well, even when I found other aspects of its design quite appealing. Maybe I am just weak. Even so, I am not the only one. As far as I understand, Nimblebit is making plenty of money back through micro-transactions. Apparently people are willing to pay to skip "gameplay" entirely.