Inside Man: inserting social commentary on video games into film

Spike Lee's Inside Man got a bit of attention in the gaming community earlier this year for a scene that showed a computer generated sequence made to look like a violent video game. I just saw the DVD on the weekend, and I have to admit I'm a bit suprised at the clumsily inserted social commentary. I could understand using the wounds of the World Trade Centre as a point of reflection in 25th Hour, but Inside Man's approach to criticizing violent video games simply felt gratuitous, from multiple viewpoints. It seems that the bigger Lee's budget, the lesser his tact.

Rebirth of the Arcade: a false alarm

After I wrote last week's post for The Cultural Gutter, I was given a link to an interview at Gamasutra that had been published a week prior. The interview was with Clint Manny, vice president of sales and marketing at GameWorks. The arcade chain was recently acquired by the Sega-Sammy Group, who has big plans to boost GameWorks' market share - and rebuild the U.S. arcade scene while they're at it.

DS lite: fashion wins again

As much as I enjoyed holding Nintendo’s glistening white lozenge in my hands, something about it didn’t feel right. The DS Lite was more screen than portable gaming device – which is fine for showing off the significant difference in brightness from its predecessor. In a game like Metroid Prime: Hunters, I almost didn’t notice the difference when using the plastic nub and touch screen because my thumb was naturally closer to the edge of it. However, in any other game, having the ABXY buttons packed together and so close the edge of the unit can be a little unnerving when you’ve got oversized man-hands. The easiest comparison to make is playing any GBA platformer on my DS and then going back to play it on the GBA SP: my hands felt cramped in the smaller playing space. The old DS may be unattractive, but it wasn’t overdesigned to the point of being almost unusable. Are we really past the point where it's unfashionable to carry around an ugly piece of hardware?

On a general DS note, I wouldn’t advise changing the Gameboy/Gameboy Advance display screen on the DS while a game cartridge is in the slot. I lost all of my progress in Castlevania: Harmony of Dissonance (including my recent replay) when I switched from the upper to the lower screen, though I haven’t read of this happening to anyone else. It wasn't a big deal; I already know how it ends and my opinion of the game hasn’t changed two years later.

What Happened to the Arcade?

After exploring the relationships formed by console gaming, I thought about the place of the arcade in the evolution of the bonds shared by gamers. The friendly competition established by beating a high score in Galaga or mastering the moves of Street Fighter II seem like such simple pursuits when compared to the complexity of multiplayer gaming today. The Internet, voice chat and anonymous challenges have supplanted the community building that took place inside the local arcade. While a form of this pastime may have made its way onto home consoles, it's hard not to lament the loss of these hallowed dens of gaming. This month's article at the Cultural Gutter tries to figure out what happened to the arcade.

backward compatibility: is it really that important?

Back when the specs of the Playstation 3, the "Revolution" and the XBox360 were originally unveiled, the idea of backward compatibility was latched on to by many as a deciding factor between the three platforms. In the reactions that followed each company's announcement, it seemed that whichever platform would be stupid enough not to include the feature would immediately forfeit their position in the console war. Because the Playstation 2 has already set the precedent (with the GBA one year later allowing the use of both original Game Boy and Game Boy colour cartridges), there is now a demand for old games to work with new consoles. The cycle between generations has roughly stayed the same, but consumers want to be given more than an incremental graphics update for their dedication to a platform. In my haste to dismiss the next generation as merely imitating computers, I missed a crucial point: is backward compatibility even necessary for a console to succeed?

revisionist fantasy

With the success of Grand Theft Auto III and its many skins, or more recently the Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, you'd almost get the impression that more open-ended gameplay is a requirement to be worthy of critical acclaim. In a completely original setting, this is easily accomplished. But what about movie or book adaptations? Is a move towards player freedom a necessity in these games that are heavily dependent on narrative that has likely already been experienced by the player? How can a movie adaptation be made so that it isn't simply a passive experience hampered by the constraints of a story, and actually empowers the player? In this month's article at the Cultural Gutter, I delve into this matter with a certain game in mind.

Dawn of Sorrow: Julius mode

From what I can tell, the upcoming Castlevania: Portrait of Ruin is introducing another playable character, with a series of puzzles that can only be solved while using both characters. It follows that a co-operative multiplayer version of the game is also available. Other than that, it seems like a return to pre-Symphony Castlevania. It also sounds like a game that I played last year.

Dawn of Sorrow's "Julius Mode" is unlocked by completing the ending where Soma (the character in the main game) assumes the mantle of Dracula. As Julius Belmont, you must go through the same castle to fulfill the destiny of the Belmonts. Subtracting the details of spell and inventory management, what remains is a veritable tribute to the Castlevania games of old. In fact, this same premise was used for Julius Mode in 2003's Aria of Sorrow. Only this time you have friends.

Dawn of Sorrow's Julius Mode gives you a team of three characters. Aside from the whip, Julius comes with a solid collection of traditional Castlevania powers like holy water, axes, and a cross boomerang. Yoko Belnades, who was a character from the main game, adds fire, ice and lightning spells into your repertoire of powers. Last, but certainly not least, as Julius you run into Genya Arikado (a returning character from Aria of Sorrow), who reveals himself to be none other than Alucard. While not having as many powers as the other two, he can change into a bat which allows entrance into some of the castle's otherwise inaccessible areas. The current character is switched at the press of the "X" button.

As such, balancing the use of these three characters becomes an entirely new game that focuses on the straight ahead side-scrolling action of Castlevania before it had been fused with Metroid. The game even allows you to level up the characters. Aria's Julius mode simply gave a full powered static character to plow through the game with, which was no easy feat during the last third of the game. My only criticism for this experience system is that the levelled-up life and mana pools are shared among the three characters, so the weaker Yoko will tend to drain the health pool faster than say, Alucard. Yoko's mana will recharge a lot faster, though. With regard to castle exploration, there are quite a few dead ends such as the "Ice Blocks" area that is extremely time consuming to clear with the whip, only to find that there's nothing at the other end worth pursuing. Though I'd hardly fault Konami for these shortcomings - they've essentially turned a bonus for completing the main game into a completely separate adventure.

E3 2006: in which I try to hate the games industry

The gaming mob is fickle.

The novelty of E3 continues to wear thin, for me at least. I'd rather selectively watch coverage on the internet than be stuck in line with a bunch of people who are probably not even supposed to be there. It's become an amusement park. A giant, throbbing, noisy commercial for games that might not even see release, but we're going to get super happy excited about anyway. How much can you really glean from a game's trailer or 5 minute playtest that's been built up after waiting for two hours? The software isn't even complete. Is it to say you've played it first? I'm having a hard time figuring out my former longstanding desire to attend an E3. The gaming mob is fickle.

the not-so casual gamer

What is a casual gamer? It's a term that gets used a lot more lately, as a larger audience is introduced to the world of games. It's also become a very lucrative demographic, because console manufacturers and game publishers aren't interested in selling their product to existing customers. They are in the business of making money, after all. And that includes reaching a wider audience. As games become more accessible, the definition has been muddied somewhat. Is a casual gamer someone who is content to play solitaire on a Windows 95 desktop? Or Diner Dash for days on end? What about sports gamers, who ground themselves in some form of reality instead of the blood and guts escapism of first person shooters? What about players of flight simulators?

In this month's article at The Cultural Gutter, I examine that the casual player of flight simulators may not be so casual after all.

exploring Coupland's views on gaming

I recently finished re-reading Douglas Coupland's Microserfs, a well-written tale about a group of Microsoft employees that leave the company to start up their own. I first read it back in 1999, partway through University. Though published in 1993, I had avoided the book due to the overwhelming praise heaped upon it by media that had become newly obsessed with the growing subculture of the tech savvy "geeks" that would be storming the business world with big ideas and half-baked business plans for the next seven years. I felt that it captured the sentiment of this period very well, despite having been written before this subculture went mainstream. I give Coupland credit for that. The first project for the start-up company in the book is a free-form "game", and through that he tackled the concept of "multimedia": the software industry's favorite buzzword at the time, and something most gamers were exposed to through games like Myst and the infamous Sewer Shark.

Besides the nuances of geek culture described within the book, what remains startlingly relevant is the main character's list of "The 8 Models of Interactivity", which were summarized after he attended a multimedia industry conference (see pages 139-143 for some very thoughtful remarks). I think these observations are entirely applicable today, and provide an effective touchstone in witnessing the evolution of the game industry.

F-Zero GX: a reappraisal

I played a bit of vs. battle F-Zero GX on the weekend. It's probably the first time in at least two months that I've even turned the Gamecube on. Thinking about having to start a battle over again in Path of Radiance because I've permanently lost a party member is enough to get the bile ducts flowing. But I assure you I'm coming to a point here.

When I first got my Gamecube, F-Zero GX was the first game I "reviewed" for the platform. I say that with a smile on my face because in hindisight I completely missed the fucking point of the game. Focusing on things like "story mode" and getting pissy over it being hard to unlock more vehicles (a trend that has sadly continued in every racer I've played since) is really not important. I would happily play the game with the default four racers, the ones that were introduced in the original F-Zero. It wouldn't make a difference. Because F-Zero GX is not about pulling stunts or rewinding time or launching red shells or realistic physics. It is about winning a race. Crossing the finish line is the only goal that could ever matter as the landscape blasts past you at 1200 km/h with the siren blazing that you need repairs badly.

F-Zero GX is about going fast at all costs. It is a racing game in its purest, most concentrated form. And that's why I still love it.

the hunted

Is Metroid Prime: Hunters really the best first person shooter for a handheld? More than likely, even though it's probably the only one in the eyes of the average gamer. Some people seem to forget that both Doom and Doom 2 were released on the GBA just a couple of years ago, not to mention the countless number of homebrewed Doom and Quake ports on portable devices. As a finely tuned FPS, Metroid Prime: Hunters certainly delivers what you would expect, carrying over elements from the Gamecube versions that made them some of the best games I've ever played. The controls are suprisingly easy to get used to, but the lack of custom configurations is limiting for those that aren't huge fans of the touch screen and default button assignments for Right and Left handed players. The aiming and "mouselook" with the Thumb-strap felt completely natural as someone who plays FPS on the PC regularly, and I'm impressed how easily this control scheme has been adapted for the DS. As a result, the multiplayer feels fast and action-heavy, and a lot like playing Quake III Arena. The race for the big weapons and bunny hopping to dodge rockets is usually most players' default strategy. The fact that it plays so well without me realizing I'm using a handheld is evidence enough that Hunters has managed to make full use of the DS' abilities. But that's where some reviews seem to end. What about the game?

xbox 360 quick hits, Part 2: Full Auto

At its best, Full Auto is a tease. For a game that calls itself "the world's most destructible racing game", I guess it's pretty accurate. You can destroy lots of things in this game. Buildings, street-side cafés, fences - well, as long as it's accessible from the race track. You aren't offered much flexibility to drift off of it. And if you were to compare it to Rock N' Roll Racing as I noted in Part 1, it might be a more accurate representation of the style of gameplay that is being offered.

However, while we were playing I couldn't help but reminisce about Carmageddon 2, which was a lot more open in its design. I'd even call it ahead of its time. Free form "races" with multiple conditions for winning (like killing a certain number of pedestrians, or destroying all of your opponents), and all of it doused with a thick red coating of ultra violence. As long as you could suspend your disbelief when you ran over the pedestrians with cubic heads. Full Auto doesn't allow you to simply go after your adversaries and destroy them, because you're in a race. Unless the objectives at the beginning of a mission stated otherwise, crossing the finish line was the only necessary goal to complete.

To be fair, you can do a lot of damage to the environment in Full Auto, but it has no real effect on the way you drive. You can plow through three fuel tankers causing massive explosions and keep going as if nothing happened. This apparent lack of repercussions is even stranger in the face of the detailed damage modelling of the vehicles.

I found that my car was exploding without any real warning beyond the damage indicator on the bottom of the screen, which I rarely checked due to the fast-paced nature of the action. My vehicle may have looked like a scrap heap on wheels, but it didn't drive any differently. It didn't cause me to rethink my strategy to conserve energy or shields - I simply kept driving until I was ultimately destroyed by gunfire, colliding with another car, or simply diving headlong off of the top level of a parking garage.

Though all this can be avoided: the "Unwreck" feature is a Prince of Persia-styled reversing of time to make a jump, avoid a rollover, or even being targeted by an adversary's machine gun. I wondered if a feature like this was even necessary. Is the ultimate point of Full Auto total destruction or winning a race? Carmageddon had an auto-repair feature you could use while driving (depending on how much money you had available). It was equally unrealistic, but was at least suited to the overall theme.

What bothered me was the lack of originality and variation in the weapons available to upgrade vehicles. They're often made up of one forward weapon and one rear, and categorized into "packages" like Assault and Melee. Individual components of the sets can't be interchanged. What's worse, like the other cars in the game, the weapon sets must be unlocked.

The available game modes are pretty straightforward, and actually kind of dull after the initial novelty of driving clear through a brick building with a hot rod wears off. The most glaring omission was the lack of a free for all or arena mode included in the likes of Carmageddon or Twisted Metal. In a game that's bent on providing wholesale destruction, why is it so focused on racing? Perhaps I was simply attributing features to the game it was never intended to have.

Nevertheless, there was something about Full Auto that just felt rushed, as if Pseudo Interactive started with a sound concept that got stripped down to meet the "arcade racing" requirement for the 360's library. I'd call it "Semi-Auto", but that's too obvious. It isn't a bad game. Just an unremarkable one.

xbox 360 quick hits, Part 1

A couple of weekends ago I spent the afternoon with fellow über-gamers Tony and Chris, where we gathered for some quality time with Chris' new XBox 360. I've since had the time to record some of the following impressions. Unrelated: Chris is an excellent cook.

Black: a first person shooter

There is a science in creating an edgy title for a game. Despite its simplicity, I'm positive that a lot of thought went into the name for Black. It's a first person shooter with big guns and destructable environments - definitely appealing to the average gamer. Well, the ones that didn't already play Red Faction anyway. Developers Criterion needed to keep it short and simple, so that no one will forget it easily. Like Halo. Except they have to make it darker sounding, because this game is about killing and blowing shit up. So what's a dark word? Blood. It's already taken. Sin. Nope, that's gone too. Wait a second - Black. What's darker than "Black"? I mean it's black - darkness in a word. The shade of gunmetal. The heart of a mercenary. Perfect!

Now, about the actual game.

The Xbox version was pretty easy to pick up and play, because the control scheme is an exact duplicate of Halo. The demo I played dropped me into the middle of a building on a decimated city block. Shattered glass exploded all around me with the sound of gunfire drawing closer. I blew open the door with my shotgun and ran out into the street. I must have surprised my enemies because they didn't fire at first; though don't think I was able to get the drop on everyone. Bullets ejected from windows on the upper levels of buildings nearby and peppered the street in front of me. I threw a grenade into a nearby wrecked car that someone was using for cover and it exploded in suitable movie-styled fashion, bringing down a nearby wall.

I then rushed headlong into the next group of enemies with my AK-47 blazing, the shell casings decorating the bottom half of the screen. All of the weapons so far felt substantial and responsive, with the accompanying sounds strengthening the effect. I felt tough. I felt untouchable. I was soon entranced by the dull roar of gunfire.

But what was I doing here? Was the objective simply "kill or be killed"? Are we really still at the point where that's reason enough to keep playing a first person shooter?

From what I've read the game is one of the shortest in recent memory. Like the name. I guess the devs wanted to distract you until it was too late, to prevent you from thinking that the game you have been playing for the last 8 hours didn't have a story. Or worse - that it was not anything of consequence in the genre.

evolving virtual worlds

In hindsight, David Sirlin's seemingly harsh remarks about what World of Warcraft offers the MMORPG scene could be considered flame bait - they certainly caused enough of a stir within the games community. I think the important point he brings to the discussion is the insistence of the current game model to reward players based on time spent in the game. Based on my own experiences in World of Warcraft, it was often infuriating to watch friends who had more time to spend gaming accelerate through the game, participating in high level instances that I could never hope to be a part of. As a result I was forced to play solo - definitely not a bad thing - but still feeling like I was missing out on something. While pure exploration is always a worthy pursuit, the game should be able to be experienced by all participants - not necessarily the ones willing to spend the most time staring blankly into their monitors.

Sirlin's article prompted a thoughtful list from Raph Koster, which in his words was more of a lament of the state of MMORPGs than a bona fide response. I think the most fascinating aspect of this list is that is speaks as much about the gamers than the games themselves (see: "Staring at someone who is talking the politest thing you can do. Because the only other option is to not look at them at all.")

There is an ongoing conversation at Terra Nova about this list. Ignoring the attack and defense of SOE and Koster, I think the antagonist in the discussion brings up an excellent point:

From this point on Talent will be one of the biggest determining factors in the success of any given MMORPG. When you see a screenshot from WoW you know it’s WoW. When you see a screenshot from Eve Online you know it’s Eve Online. When you see a screenshot from Chronicles of Spellborn you know it’s Chronicles of Spellborn. You can’t create the artistic talent reflected in those games with polygons, pixel count, or realism. You can’t replace the musical talent in those games with a movie soundtrack. You can’t substitute the depth and beauty of the lore created for these games with player created events. In order for a MMORPG to be a true success it has to have genuinely talented and inspiring artists working together to bring it to life – just like in any other artistic endeavor.

The first thing I noticed when I joined the beta of World of Warcraft were the incredibly unique environments. I was able to ignore the low poly character models and drawn-on shadows, because this game had style. The limited amount of background established by the Warcraft series had been fleshed out to make you feel like you were living amongst a contintent-spanning conflict. While I enjoyed Star Wars Galaxies immensely (before it was irreversibly changed into another Everquest), I tend to agree that it suffered from a lack of a definable style. To be given such a powerful license and still not manage to convey what made the movies so magical did irreperable damage to the game's reputation. And placing immediately accessible, famous NPCs into the revamped version is no substitute. There's nothing unique about World of Warcraft's gameplay - in fact, before I cancelled the gameplay had become mind-numbingly tedious. But that never stopped me from exploring, because there was no shortage of skillfully constructed atmosphere to take in.

I'm all for changing the current play model for modern MMORPGs; Star Wars Galaxies gave me a taste of what was possible. But first and foremost, I want to be entertained.

Resident Evil 4: the most overrated game of 2005

"You are Dead," Resident Evil 4 tells me as my avatar gets fried for the fourth time by the trap with erratically moving laser beams. It's this type of hamfisted advice that seems to be the undercurrent of the entire experience. The game isn't content to set up a rustic, chilling atmosphere for you to cautiously explore, and instead offers you many, many reasons on why you should be killing the things on screen, as if the player couldn't figure it out for themselves. If Michael Bay and Jerry Bruckheimer had made a game, I'm pretty sure this is how it would turn out. Only with less plot.

A Just War

What is the allure of the World War 2 shooter, exactly? As someone who's unapologetic about supporting this genre, it's a topic I enjoy exploring. You know, instead of just sitting around and complaining about how many were released last week (and by the way, that joke never gets old). Obviously there's something about them that resonates with gamer culture, though I'm sure with casual gamers to a greater degree as they are only exposed to the ones that get the most hype. And developers still manage to come up with new ideas for interactive war experiences, because they keep selling. An article I wrote over at The Cultural Gutter attempts to coalesce some of these thoughts.

Also, from this point on I'll be supplying material once a month for the video games section at the Gutter. Though I don't expect this to affect anything around here.

forging relationships in console gaming

Lost Garden brought attention to a very thought provoking aspect of console gaming and online play. Does online console gaming cultivate the same type of relationships as PC gaming?

Technically speaking, multiplayer originated on the console with two player games like the venerable Pong. Some of the best memories I have of the NES involved going over to my friend's house around the corner and playing Contra after school. Years later Mortal Kombat and Super Mario Kart on the SNES further strengthened this notion: multiplayer gaming was to be enjoyed with people you know. They were right there to mock, strangle and laugh with as the situation applied.

During this time, the PC was playing host to a little multiplayer of its own - and not of the hot-seat turn-based variety, but through the phone line. With the advent of the Internet, this model would be adopted by PCs and consoles alike.

We are now at a point where a successful, PC-like multiplayer model has established itself in the console marketplace: Xbox Live. It has a ton of useful features, including "Friends lists" to manage friends that are universally implemented across all games. Even games that don't support online play can still be monitored through your profile, allowing friends to see exactly what you're playing. It allows easy coordination between players outside of the game, as it is clearly modelled after Microsoft's own Instant Messenger. Live also supports random encounters: if none of your friends are online you can just as easily join any game that supports online play. Voice chat further deepens this contact between players. However having this ability at hand does not guarantee meaningful communication.

Sony's strategy is a little more directionless, and is applied on a game-by-game basis. Final Fantasy XI and SOCOM, for example, are games that allow anonymous interaction, but only FFXI has managed to assist in maintaining these relationships as this is intrinsic to the game's design. I've never played SOCOM, but I would like to think that there is some kind of Favorites list on the server browser so as to provide an indication of who you're playing with. Though where this information is stored is another situation entirely.

Similarly, Nintendo's WiFi service launched last year on the Nintendo DS, which now has a few titles that are supported that are dependent on "Friend Codes". Speaking from my experience with Mario Kart DS, it's extremely difficult to set up matches with Nintendo's WiFi network. The reliance on Friend Codes that must be reciprocated to even be useful followed with the coordination of a play session through other means (e.g. phone, email, IM) implies you should already know the person you're trying to play with. There are of course options to play random opponents through Rivals, Regional and Worldwide groups, but there's no way to keep track of these people. These random battles are passively obtained by the user - you can't set criteria, and it's not like you can add their friend code after a race, because everything is hidden except the user's nickname, wins and losses. They become single serving opponents, if you will, because the probability is extremely low you will ever face them again once you quit the race. There is no interaction in or out of the game; they might as well be AI-controlled bots.

However, a service like Nintendo's Wi-Fi network significantly broadens the accessibility of multiplayer gaming to the casual gamer. There's no need to purchase additional hardware (such as an ethernet adapter for the Gamecube or PS2) or sign up for an account (such as with Live). All you need is a wireless access point to the internet, which most internet-using households are equipped with these days. Continuing with the Mario Kart example, the the game itself is extremely basic so as not to be intimidating to the newcomer, which makes the overall experience a little more palatable. This is something that Tetris DS will be taking advantage of as well.

Animal Crossing: Wild World allows in-game chat, and the upcoming Metroid Prime: Hunters will apparently include voice chat. As new features like these get added to the online experience on the DS, I'm wondering if it will be as viable as a relationship-strengthening platform. My guess is it is simply acting as a testing ground for features to be implemented with the Revolution. Most importantly, though, I'm still left wondering where Sony's strategy is at. There hasn't been much talk about unified online play service, and while I hardly think they need it to survive (unfortunately a stranglehold on market mindshare and better hardware is still enough to sell the platform to their target audience), I think they owe it to themselves to show they are willing to advance with the rest of the industry. Though I still think it's important to ask: do console gamers even want online play? Or are they satisfied with the companionship that an additional controller or two will provide?

Further to this discussion, Raph Koster declared the single-player experience abnormal - unnatural, even. This is clearly a sensationalist statement - similar to Greg Costikyan's rant last year about the state of the games industry - but they both end up making some good points that are worth discussing. Obviously Raph is interested in online-only gameplay, being a part of MMORPG development himself. I'll submit that online-only play has its place in certain genres, but should in no way be the norm. Speaking for myself, I hate having to depend on others just so I can enjoy a game. That's why the solo experience in MMORPGs should still be rewarding; there's nothing like feeling forced to be "friends" with people just to complete a quest or experience the game the way it was "meant" to be played. It's frustrating in the way it limits the control of the player, and is dependent on so many other factors: connectivity, bandwidth limitations, etc.

I always thought that online play was for the gamer elite; traditionally only the hardcore would be able to set it up in the first place, not to mention submit themselves to the twitch gameplay offered by FPS or RTS and the strange satisfaction in playing with complete strangers. And while MMORPGs changed the face of the online gamer, their increase in accessibility expands the user base to the point where the casual gamer may not want to play with strangers, and the idea of guilds and other such social networks are more appealing. Whether we want to admit it or not, this is how the future of the industry is being directed: those that typically pushed the technology forward are disregarded in place of making this frontier more comfortable for new recruits. Gaming has no need to make new headway with existing players; this market has been captured for some time.

a rose by any other name...

Geek On Stun asks a very important question: "Will the Next Generation Be Wankable?" (Part 1, Part 2), with references to the recently released Dead or Alive 4 and the upcoming Rumble Roses XX. Sophomoric commentary aside, I think they bring up a disconcerting trend. Especially when the industry is "doing its part" to curb the sleazy use of booth babes at E3.

Ever since I saw Mai Shiranui coyly jiggle her way to victory in Fatal Fury 2, I was certain there would be a market for this kind of stuff apart from obviously sexual Hentai games that contain a disturbing number of transgressions against what is considered natural human contact. But anyway.

Partially clothed female characters have always been a staple of fighting games, even before Lara Croft's hot pants made their way onto the screens of PC gamers. It's like any issue of Maxim; it's covert enough to be sold on any news stand, but it still may as well be porn.

The girls in Dead or Alive were obviously popular enough to get their own outing in Dead or Alive: Xtreme Beach Volleyball, a game I'm convinced is as practical as a comic character swimsuit issue and did more to embarrass the games industry than anything else. Rumble Roses XX - a game that features all-female wrestlers - has taken it one step further to allow modification of character bodytypes. The title implies that there might actually be twenty of these games, but I think they're just missing the third "X". Though the opinion of a female gamer is probably much more useful; I'm a member of the group these games are supposed to appeal to.

I'm O.K.!

Remember Splatterhouse?

I remember parents being up in arms over the game's presentation of ultra-violence, afraid that their children would don a hockey mask and run out into the street to whack people with 2x4s while praising the name of Satan. Except without the flying heads. Or shambling mounds of undead flesh. Of course, that was before Mortal Kombat made its way into the arcades, educating young children on the wonders of spine removal.

Now we have Jack Thompson, the self-proclaimed White Knight for parents against violent videogames everywhere, and a repeat offender when it comes to putting his foot in his mouth.

In a comment that was probably intended to be a joke, Thompson asked game developers to create a game about Osaki Kim, a man "swearing revenge upon the video game industry whom he is convinced contributed to his son's murder." In this statement would be a task that gamers would take to the bank.

Shortly after this proposal was handed over to the entire Internet, "Defamation of Character: A Jack Thompson Murder Simulator" was revealed. Even though it really had nothing to do with Thompson's idea, it was sure to mock publicly the sensationalist campaign he was waging upon the games industry. What's more, this game was a modification of Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas - a game at the very centre of his crusade against the video game industry. How deliciously poetic.

Bodythumper, the first original game to be based on Thompson's "modest proposal" was released shortly after. Though I think it was made out of principle than to actually create something worth playing.

With Thompson's proposal having such a stunted viewpoint on violence in videogames, I didn't think anyone could create a game that was actually, well, a game that would still be worth spending some time with. Insert a few over-the-top conventions of violent video games, make a few jokes at Thompson's expense, and call it a day.

Last week, Thompsonsoft released "I'm O.K.", the latest game to adopt Jack Thompson's design proposal. I didn't think I'd end up actually enjoying it.

After an extremely humorous cutscene that borrows heavily from the poor art direction in intros from the NES titles of yesteryear, you're given a bat and the violence begins. This is what made me think of Splatterhouse. The endless, almost nonsenical beatings that erupted into blood and gore. Enemies would drop coins that could be used to purchase bigger and better weapons between levels. But I didn't bother. I liked the bat. All of the elements of Thompson's proposal are in there: the detailed opening cutscene, the bloody trail blazed across a map of the U.S. and a visit to the fictional Paula Eibel's house.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any more gratuitous, I was asked to pee on the dancing brains of people I'd just bludgeoned to death. At this point I was speechless.

With "I'm O.K.", Thompson's sarcastic remarks have been given right back.

gaming in 2005: the year's best

The list is shorter this year, because frankly I felt 2005 was a weak year for gaming. There were a lot of very good releases, but there was no game that stood above the rest, immediately recognized for its strengths or unique contribution to the medium. World of Warcraft made great strides in capturing audiences worldwide in 2005 - what is it, five million concurrent subscribers now? The XBox 360 launched with one of the worst lineups since the Saturn, with an engineered product shortage that somehow convinced people they actually needed one. But in terms of a singular victory on any platform, I am hard pressed to name one. I also could have easily padded a list with the other games that I played last year that left me satisfied, but to do that would lessen the meaning of the other selections. These are, after all, the best games I played from last year, and as such should come across as titles actually worth playing, not just looking into.

mario kart DS

It's hard to imagine a Nintendo console without a version of Mario Kart. Ever since the mold was cast on the SNES, there have been numerous imitations. Even Nintendo's own following iterations didn't seem to capture the same charm as the original. This time Mario Kart DS provides the entire package, borrowing only those components from its ancestors that worked well and created one of the best games I played last year.

still waiting for a revolution

He may have taken six pages to say it, nevertheless Eric-Jon Waugh points out that Nintendo more than anyone is in need of something new and exciting to captivate the minds of gamers. Ever since the announcement last fall that revealed the Revolution controller, debate continues about the viability of the platform as a destination for some original - and practical - titles. He accurately points out that merely developing around the control scheme is not a solution; rather, the game's concept should be the governing factor. Five pages of game controller history may have benefited the point somewhat, but I focused on the underlying theme - Nintendo is too comfortable in its strategy.

Of course, this isn't entirely their fault, as third-party developers have become deathly afraid of their platforms since the moderate successes of the N64 and the Gamecube, and so Nintendo have had little to rely on except their existing franchises. We're seeing this again with the Nintendo DS, where new and improved versions of guaranteed sellers (Super Mario 64, Mario Kart, Animal Crossing and the recently announced Tetris) are overshadowing the unique releases (Meteos, Nintendogs) that explicitly take advantage of the platform's features. Not that there's anything wrong with releasing a better Mario Kart, but...it's still Mario Kart. Is that really the limit of their vision?

As always, it's impossible to predict where these things are going to end up. I'm as excited as anyone to see what the console has to offer beyond the tech demos and the resultant gameplay scenarios conjured by overactive imaginations and the radical redesign of what we've come to accept as a controller.

these clothes don't fit us right

online gaming addiction: a new disorder?

A great article by Nick Yee explores the foundations of "Internet Addiction Disorder" (IAD) and whether it actually applies to habitual online gaming. His conclusion is that it does not, and in fact attempts to disassemble the criteria established by Kimberly Young in a 1996 study to diagnose "internet addiction" in general. I really like how he compared gaming to what our society deems as acceptable timesinks: watching TV (annoyingly passive for a gamer), playing golf every weekend or working long hours. While he makes his own share of generalizations, the crux of his argument is that this "disorder" is not new, and actually stems from underlying problems the person usually possesses like low self esteem or depression - the same approach taken to address addiction to drugs, alcohol and gambling.

By calling it "online gaming addiction", the media encourages us to think that we're dealing with a very new problem…If people can develop behavioral dependencies on any activity, then why are we surprised that some people develop dependencies on online games? Why is it news? I contend it is mostly because we've always used the word "addiction" to mark out deviant social activities in a way that treats them as unique predators, as emergent problems which we've never seen before. But once we shift our framework to one of general behavioral dependencies, then we have to abandon this view. What we're seeing is actually a very old problem.

After enjoying World of Warcraft for just under a year, I contend that I drifted dangerously close to the point of what may be considered "addiction", where I actually questioned my level of involvement with the game. I never played for more than 4 hours at a time, but it was the routine of it all - nothing else seemed to matter. I needed to log in every day to check my mail to see if I won auctions, or to journey to a new area so I can get some quests off of my list. In-game social activity was minimal, which was even more disturbing. On days where there was server maintenance or I couldn't log in, I occasionally felt listless and didn't want to do anything else - not even play other games.

I can appreciate the allure of MMORPGs, because they are dynamic in the sense that there is real-time interaction between actual humans. Whether it's trading goods or joining a pickup group, even if no actual words are exchanged, it's easy to get the feeling that maybe there is more to the game than originally thought. Sadly, there isn't, and it's no replacement for real life. One of my favorite mental checks for any game is to think about what was actually accomplished after each session. What did I really have to show for the past two hours? Though don't be alarmed - this is no different than sitting in front of the TV for hours on end. I would much rather engage in a series of inconsequential quests than passively subject myself to someone else's idea of what is entertaining or exciting.

All of this also makes me wonder about the term "addiction": should we really be using it as a favorable descriptor for games? Many reviewers like to fall back on calling a game "addictive" because there really is no other way to describe an immediately absorbing brand of gameplay. But we have to be reminded that society at large views this term in a wholly negative light, and as Yee points out in his article, is associated with "deviant social activities". With gaming enthusiasts eager to have their passion recognized as an art form, perhaps it's time to start viewing the games on their individual merits instead of wedging interchangeable words into a game's qualities, which only serve to perpetuate the negative reputation of the medium in the long run.

no sinister plague will poison us

of course it's not dead you idiots

Without fail, the question "Is PC gaming dead?" is dredged up by self-proclaimed video game industry pundits every fucking year without fail. This time it's Daniel Morris, the former Editor-in-Chief of PC Gamer. And I'm tired.

I'm tired of reading the articles that ramble on about the successful sales of certain titles for whatever platform, while paying little attention to what's really happening in the industry. At least Morris rightly points out that both Valve and Electronic Arts are pushing their download service. With XBox Live and the XBox 360 moving towards more downloadable content and online play, and more multiports of traditionally PC-only titles, we are beginning to see the convergence of platforms. I have stressed this point before. PC gaming will never disappear because console gaming is destined to become PC gaming.

Of course industry mainstays like Nintendo will continue to advance the concepts of gaming, as September's announcement about the Revolution's controller sparked the most passionate debate about the future of gaming I have ever witnessed. They also unexpectedly made their mark with the Nintendo DS, convincing everyone - even pessimists like myself - that they can still innovate while providing accessible entertainment.

The Playstation 2 failed to provide an equivalent to XBox Live over its lifespan, and there is little promise being shown for the Playstation 3. Even Nintendo plans on offering a download service that would give gamers access to their classic titles of yesteryear. The thrust of this argument is that the console manufacturers are thinking about games online, because they all know that's what the market wants. Nintendo launched their WiFi service for the DS this year, and this is likely how they will provide online functionality with the Revolution. Aside from securing big-name publishers, what is Sony's plan for the Playstation 3? I am convinced that the average gamer is going to wake up any second and realize what is happening. Fancy new graphics can only carry a game so far. After playing Dawn of Sorrow I was enraged to the point of blindness that a third dimension had ever been invented.

Be reminded of the 3D engine wars from the late 90s. It's 2005 and Unreal is all but declared the winner. Then what? Does that mean we will begin to see an increase in creativity or a sudden interest in PC games? It does not. It means that PC gaming will continue to do what it has been doing forever, and that is releasing a variety of genre titles of varying quality. Just like every other platform.

Update: It appears the editing gremlins at Next Gen changed the title from "PC Gaming 2005: Not dead yet" to "PC Gaming: 2005" since the time I was first linked to the article and started writing this. Why, I wonder? Perhaps it was the "yet" that rankled a few PC gamers, or maybe the fact that there was no basis in the entire article for a solid argument against this point. A list of successful releases is not a defense!

Halo gets 2D treatment

I'm not big a fan of Halo by any means, but when I saw the announcement for Halo Zero, I knew I had to check it out. This isn't the first time a beloved FPS has had a dimension removed: nuclear vision's Codename: Gordon was based on Half Life. Of course, the Codename: Gordon project was officially sanctioned by Valve and was the first game available through Steam. Whether Microsoft opts to take any legal action over this fan-created platformer remains to be seen.

In terms of gameplay, Halo Zero takes everything familiar to players of the XBox version and translates them directly: the recharging health meter, the Covenant's many plasma weapons, the Warthog - and all with their original sound effects. It's great fun, and like Codename: Gordon and Abuse before it, the mouse is integrated perfectly into the action. While the game's developers say this is the "Final" version, there are still a number of small bugs to be found (such as a finnicky weapon swap), and the game's resolution makes the art look worse than it should. Still, the bright, colorful graphics and campy cutscenes brought me back to the days of the Genesis and SNES. Though don't kid yourself - it doesn't provide the fast paced arcade action of Gunstar Heroes or Metal Slug, but instead offers an enjoyable diversion that's more novelty than anything else.

some candy talking

actors should never quit their day jobs

Especially when they are terrible at it.

According to a few vague quotes in interviews Jessica Alba alludes to being involved in the design of a "non-violent X-Game where you can basically create your own character". This is fucked up on so many different levels I'm having a hard time forming sentences, but I had to record this somewhere so that my future decline into a swirling vortex of insanity can be traced back to this event. Someone hurry up and name the publisher so they can be branded a leper by the gaming community for all time.

I don't even want to speculate what this mystery "extreme sport" is; I'm sure it's whatever is currently airing in between the music commercials on MTV. When you see that this is considered "extreme", can an announcement for a game based on this dexterous display of everyday housework be far behind? I'll bet an actor somewhere with a career in a tailspin is just aching to get involved.

In the 80s, we were inundated with actors that stepped away from the camera in pursuit of short-lived musical careers: David Hasselhoff, Patrick Swayze, Rick Springfield...I'm disgusted with myself that I can actually put that kind of a list together. The embarrassing displays at the Spike TV awards last year showed both actors and music industry personalities wanted a slice of the video gaming scene. Is gaming the fashionable arena for this generation's hip-with-the-times celebrities?

This isn't to say that all actors should avoid the game industry. All you have to do is look back on Escape from Butcher Bay, one of last year's movie-based games that was actually well-produced, had design input from the movie's main actor and stood tall on its own as a game. I cannot hold the same sentiment, however, for the mind-numbingly incomprehensible movie it was based on. The irony!

sort of rotten and insane

Nintendogs continues the distortion of reality

I own a dog. She's five months old, and has been a ridiculous amount of work. But my wife and I love her. Despite whether the favour is returned or not, we spend time on her. Housetraining, obedience, and general manners - it's all important if you want to be able to live comfortably with a pet. It's because of these efforts she is growing into a fantastic animal companion for us. When I read about Nintendogs I see that exactly 8% of what I've spent the last five months doing is actually represented.

With hints of the Tamagotchi craze of the mid 90s, Nintendogs takes the features of DS and creates an entirely new interactive experience with a virtual pet. From a technology perspective, seeing how the voice and touch screen elements of the DS come together makes Nintendogs sound like a genuine accomplishment. Reading through some of the reviews, it seems that the underlying simulation is lost amid the praises for using the DS's capabilities to their fullest. Let's take away the fact that there is a cute puppy on screen waiting to be played with. What is the ultimate goal?

Nintendogs can hardly be considered a "game" in the traditional sense, as it takes elements from what we have come to expect from a "virtual" pet with that of a simulation of sorts. You can record yourself saying "sit", and your dog will eventually learn to do it on command. After three or four tries. You can "walk" your pup around the neighborhood where you might find accessories for your new dog, like a new...hat. You can enter your dog into obedience and frisbee catching competitions and win awards to buy more stuff for your dog. You can feed your pup to keep him happy, but he will never grow. It all might seem very appealing to some people, and it's entirely possible that Nintendogs' undeniable cute factor will prompt new sales of the DS. Though what I'd be more curious about is whether this game causes someone to go out and actually buy a dog. They'll be in for a surprise.

Where I thought this game would excel is in player-to-player interaction. A proper component of raising a dog is socialization, so what better way to exploit the DS's wireless connectivity? Through something called "Bark Mode", Nintendogs players can meet each other's pups in a generic-looking play room. However, all you'll be seeing is a "local" version of the other player's puppy; none of the activity is happening in real time. That means the other player can't call his dog back to him, or throw a frisbee and the both of you watch your dogs go after it. With the inclusion of dog competitions in the single-player game, it's all the more unfortunate that players can't compete with each other in obedience trials or even something simple like a race.

The most notable aspect of multiplayer interaction is that the game assumes the dogs will get along. You don't need me to tell you that every dog behaves differently, regardless of breed. Walking your dog through a park with other dogs usually results in friendly play, but you will occasionally go through the harrowing experience of having to put up with an aggressive dog and an owner that can't control it. Nintendo obviously chose a selection of lovable, cuddly breeds to include in Nintendogs, but that doesn't mean they can't be - or become - aggressive. It's obvious this game was made for kids, but is there any kind of reaction for poking your dog repeatedly with the stylus? Or neglecting it for long periods? Something tells me the experience is intended to be short term, with the results of this negative parenting never affecting the development of your virtual puppy.

I enjoy gaming because it's an escape from reality. This is main reason why I avoid sports games: as much as I can appreciate the "fantasy" aspect of controlling one's favorite team, I'd sooner go outside and play the real thing (which rarely happens anyway). The same can be said of Nintendogs. Where's the fun of actually walking with your dog? How empty would you feel yelling into a machine, only to have the insolent collection of pixels disobey the command? Would you show this virtual pet to your friends and expect some kind of reaction? This process of thought made me question where games in general are going. To simulate real-life physics to put a player in the middle of a compelling fictional setting is certainly an admirable goal; simulating the triviality of real life seems wasteful and indulgent. I'm sure a direct relationship can be found between obsessing over virtual lives with the popularity of reality TV.

While the thought of spending $40 plus the cost of a DS for a "dog" is probably appealing to some parents, the fact of the matter is you can still turn off the game. Your dog will never die of starvation or neglect, it will never run away, and will remain a puppy forever. I'd hardly call that a simulation, and it simply reinforces a fundamental flaw in game design: the lack of any real consequence.

it's a perfect day to lock yourself inside

PC gaming on the DS

A strategy I never anticipated for the DS was to host a series of PC ports. I should probably call them "re-imaginings", though, because an initial inspection of Age of Empires DS reveals only a passing resemblance to its forebear. The game has been turned into a turn based strategy title, with battles looking like something out of Advance Wars as opposed to the RTS classics of yesteryear.

Strategy First followed this up with news that turn based franchises Disciples and Jagged Alliance would be available for the DS as well. Along with Age of Wonders, Disciples helped re-galvanize the weakened state of turn-based fantasy epics and secured a position in my catalogue of PC favorites.

On a similar note, Paradox announced last month that their turn-based Europa Universalis II would be available for the DS sometime in 2006, with seemingly little visual modifications.

Nintendo has always been known to capitalize on past successes, as any Gamecube or Gameboy Advance owner can tell you. Instead of simply re-releasing old games, however, developers will be taking advantage of the DS's interface. The buttons coupled with a stylus will attempt to mimic the mouse and keyboard, the PC gamer's requisite control scheme. With two screens at a player's disposal to display information, I can see these titles succeeding in concept, though what remains of the gameplay will be the ultimate deciding factor.

The trend continues in homespun ports, with agile programmers utilizing a growing number of DS development tools to get SCUMMVM running on the DS. I've only seen photos of The Secret of Monkey Island running - but that's enough to get the gears turning. I've said before that Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis is easily one of my favorite games of all time; to think that I would be able to play it on the DS has me considering the purchase of a wireless network card to interface with my DS.

Based on my experiences with Metroid Prime Hunters: First Hunt, the first person shooter is another genre that has the potential to broaden the DS's library. Case in point: Heretic DS. Forget for a moment that Heretic was a feeble attempt to recapture the success of Doom. The programmer responsible for the port has not only managed to get the game to run with both screens in operation, it appears that he has essentially copied the design concept of Metroid Prime Hunters. Do not think for a moment that the lack of an analog control stick somehow cripples the DS. When you realize that the touchscreen is an extension of the control pad the potential for this platform becomes perfectly clear.

he hands the drill to his son

meteos: not quite tetris

Comparisons have been made between the release of the PSP and its flagship Lumines and the original Game Boy that allude it's some measure of the platform's success. These comparisons would be entirely valid, too, except for the fact that Lumines is a separate purchase from its already overpriced do-all platform. Tetris came with the Game Boy, and for some people that's all they ever played. Reviews claim that Lumines is the only game you will need for the PSP. Let's contrast the DS. Released four months previous, the standout launch title was Super Mario 64 DS. An excellent port, but it doesn't promote the short game sessions portable gaming should be striving for. It's also not a title that embodies the unique gameplay opportunities gestating within the DS.

Polarium was a puzzler released for the DS earlier this year to noncommittal reviews: it used the stylus, to be sure, but the gameplay was dreadfully uninspired. The color scheme was equally boring, and the game wouldn't seem out of place on a cellphone. DS owners were left feeling cold. Until some colorful blocks started falling from the blackness of space.

the new relics

"Technology is the knack of so arranging the world that we do not experience it." - Max Frisch (1911-1991)

As we move into the future, we love to reminisce about how we got by with merely 512 KB of RAM or toted around king-sized cell phones before this era of hyper efficiency. But no one ever seems to think about where this stuff goes once labeled "obsolete", while the usefulness period of modern electronics continues to shorten at an alarming rate. Sure there are eccentric collectors out there that are content to fill their garages with arcade cabinets, Apple IIs and the occasional 8-track player, but that's not everyone. After many attempts at getting some return at the neighborhood yard sale, this stuff invariably ends up in a city dump, buried amongst the wastage.

I was out walking the dog on the weekend and I noticed a large, weather-worn piece of black plastic from a distance in the dusty wasteland that is our neighborhood. A familiar looking shape glinted in the sunlight, and as I got closer I made out the "Sega Genesis" logo. The case was cracked open, and it was clear the elements had not been kind. A knockoff six-button controller missing its wire was found nearby. While thrilled with the possibility that this was uncovered in an archaeological dig of modern times, a more likely explanation is that the wayward console was simply dumped here as part of someone's garbage.

Electronics are deeply entrenched in our culture, and will naturally make their way into our waste stream. However game-related hardware can be considered fairly recent - the Genesis that I found was originally released in 1989. That our consumer cycle has already spit out this timeworn machine into my desert of a backyard amazes me.

What will future civilizations think of the byproducts of our wired society? Useless without power, how will they determine what these devices were originally intended for? Finding a clay jar or stone tools buried underneath layers of dirt and rock tells a simple story, but as our culture complicates itself with new ways to distract ourselves from reality, our purpose here is similarly clouded.

with rusted metal heart

carnival or bust

I have been invited to the Carnival of Gamers. Twice.

Flattered to be considered part of the "heavy hitters of the gaming blogosphere" that were so noted on the invitation, I still didn't bother responding. What was the point of asking someone to link to one of my old posts? I'm happy to write for myself. I went about my business.

The first ever Carnival of Gamers has come and gone, and left a few people's egos in its wake. Some have been inflated, and others put in check, but I was mostly interested in the flame war sparked by one man's rage against the gaming media machine.

It all started with a post over at Tea Leaves, which cried foul over the news that Gamespy modified the review score for Donkey Konga 2. According to Tea Leaves, this was evidently another strike against the current state of video game writing, though the post was styled as a typical rant common to most blogs and should not have even been dignified with a reply, let alone a post on the Computer Games website. This poorly formulated response to a haphazard collection of links caused an avalanche of commentary, most of them located at Buttonmashing's follow up post. I was a little disturbed watching Computer Games' Matthew Gallant try to defend himself, having no real position since he never bothered to slog through all the links.

While I agree with the spirit of the Carnival, the way in which it was carried out does the entire "gaming blogosphere" a disservice. There was no evident method for selecting the posts. It was even said that the only reason the Tea Leaves post was listed first was because it was submitted first. The Carnival itself is simply a collection of links with a few choice words wrapped around them. If I was someone interested in a particular topic, for example, the lampooning of online game journalism, how would I know where to look? Categories or headers for common blog posts would have done well in this regard. The organizer and proprietor of Buttonmashing also noted that he didn't like some of the posts. So why were they listed? To be fair to those who submitted links? How is it, then, that you can call the Carnival "the best and brightest video game bloggers from around the world!" I don't care if it's sarcasm: this is unfair to the readers that have been lured in from other websites that might actually take this statement, and the following collection of video game writing, seriously.

I think Matthew Gallant's complaint about the lack of editorial control is an excellent one. The Carnival may be providing links to some unknown weblogs, but if it's bad writing (or as we saw, provides a sensationalist negative opinion) it will reflect badly on the organizer, and the Carnival itself. Slashdot Games may have ripped into the Carnival as well, but why dismiss them? Instead of hearing what the commenters had to say, despite its negative slant, it was blocked out as an insult to the whole affair. It's one thing to link to a bunch of articles you enjoyed. If they're read by similar-minded people like the ones on the typical game blogger's links page I doubt you'll get any arguments. But when word gets out, you're likely to draw in those people that don't agree with you. Either learn to put up with criticism, or stop doing this. It's that simple.

The referrer log gazing on the Carnival's wrap up post was amusing. Calling it a great success based on some heavy linkage is hardly a comprehensive measurement. Of particular note are the links on Kotaku and Instapundit. Did they even read all the posts in the Carnival? I really doubt it, because they probably would have had more to say. Outsiders are lured into this realm expecting greatness, or at least a level of quality reflective of the linking website.

What's so bad about writing and nobody reading it, anyway? This is a classic symptom of blogger narcissism. I've been happily writing about games on this site since 2003,