On the surface, X-Men Origins: Wolverine seems like a single player verison of Raven Software’s own X-Men Legends/Marvel Ultimate Alliance, that focuses more on the immediate thrill of the action instead of stat boosting and party management. Most importantly, they have learned from past transgressions X2: Wolverine’s Revenge and X-Men: The Official Game ^[1], which were pathetic responses to fans who have been waiting for a proper X-Men action game since the 16-bit era.

In Raven’s previous action RPGs, Wolverine was just another character that had a few powerful melee attacks and a regenerating health bar. As a member of a party, the personality and feel of the character were lost among the others in the game through the party’s inherent interchangeability. Not to say that his witty remarks and added durability weren’t welcome in any party; rather, it was the overall game’s design that limited the character depth to present the mechanical essentials of each character so they would do exactly what you would expect of them.

With Origins, I get the feeling that Raven wanted to show Wolverine fans they haven’t forgotten about their favorite character. They have attempted to create an unflinching portrayal of Wolverine that is all at once bestial, ruthless and completely without fear. They wanted to give him moves that were previously only seen on two page spreads in the comics. That’s probably why they included the sequence where you leap into the air and stab a helicopter.

With each slice and thrust, with each severed body part and spray of blood, Raven is trying to tell us something: Wolverine is a vicious animal. He is a meat grinder, an unstoppable force that will level the opposition into bloody chunks. You will see heads being lopped off. You will see enemies skewered on adamantium claws.

But is it satisfying? It is not.

Ninja Gaiden II is one of the most violent and bloody video games created by man^[2]. Even though you are using a sword, there is an affinity shared with the action on-screen. It subscribes to an ancient warrior philosophy: that the sword must be the extension of the body. The sound of a single steel blade blocking an attack, the visual feedback as sword meets flesh, the absurdity of blood spraying in every direction, the resultant thud of detached body parts – these are the expected outcomes of such activity. And they are exacted with such precision and ruthlessness that you can’t help but be drawn into the game.

And yet Wolverine, whose “swords” are in fact part of his body, yields nothing remotely similar. He could be punching the characters on screen for all I can tell. Considering how integral these weapons are to each attack, to the character’s very being, one would expect the level of emotional investment for each kill would increase exponentially beyond the use of a 30-inch piece of tempered steel. But this is not the case.

There are no mobs; instead, enemies are carefully placed around the level for you to use the environment (i.e. spikes sticking out of the ground), make Wolverine spin around in circles, or provides a launch pad for you to use the Lunge attack. One of my favorite additions to the genre, the Lunge attack is much more visually rewarding than jumping, an act that seems unnecessary in comparison. However, the Lunge simply reiterates the problem with this game: there is always distance between the Player and his objectives. There is time to think and decide about how to attack. There are combinations of claw attacks that can be used, and there are special powers that can be levelled up. Kind of like Raven’s other games.

But there was never a time where I was confronted with a horde of enemies, or felt I was in danger at any time. There was no risk or opportunity for this character who is famous for dealing with overwhelming odds, to excel. There is blocking, but there are no counter-attacks. The decapitations seem random and there is no equivalent to Ryu’s Obliteration Technique. Combat is procedural in Origins: go over here, attack, enemy takes some damage. Repeat. There is no fanfare. There is no real visual payoff.

Even in the demo, I can see how this approach to combat will fail in the long term. I know that it will be drawn out just to develop the missing chapters that the movie only refecences in passing. But despite these feelings (which are correct), I still want more. I want to be Wolverine because he is perfectly suited to such an endeavor. I want to repeat the connection I felt at Ninja Gaiden II’s most primal moments, where blade meets flesh and bone to produce buckets of blood. Origins seems to skirt the edges of what it means to have Wolverine’s claws to mete out his fierce vengeance, but the game never fully commits to this ideal.

The introductory film at the beginning of the game shows a Wolverine in a tattered X-Men uniform: attacking everything in sight, claws dripping with blood, spittle dribbling from his bottom lip. He was an animal that took pleasure in the act of killing. This is the Wolverine I grew up reading about. However, X-Men Origins: Wolverine doesn’t hold up its end of the bargain. It disheartens the player that has envisioned the displays of savagery that were reserved for the pages of comic books.

So I find myself incredibly angry at this game. And not the same as I was with Wanted: Weapons of Fate^[3] – that was the result of a development team that completely mishandled a fairly new property. This is Wolverine, people. A character that has evolved over a period of years through comic books, cartoons, video games and movies. We know him and we know what to expect from him. So why did Raven feel the need to hold back?

Despite the association with the terribly received film, X-Men Origins: Wolverine could have been an excellent action game standing on its own alongside landmarks like Ninja Gaiden II. But because Raven’s restraint is clearly exhibited in the game’s core mechanics, there is no way it can ever fully emerge as a study of Wolverine’s darkest characteristic: his killer instinct.

When Red Faction: Guerrilla’s friendly tooltip “Hit LB while near a wall or an obstacle to take cover” popped onto the screen, my eyes were rolling to the back of my head in pre-emptive disinterest. But I played through the demo anyway, and discovered there is something more to this game. Or at least, developers Volition deserve a lot of credit for making it seem that way.

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Ninja Gaiden II is unyielding. It represents my history with video games: a time when I was too stubborn to resist the challenge from an indifferent master that taught the path of practice, patience and persistence. Only a few months ago, the entire gaming community was busy falling over themselves to proclaim that nostalgia and accessibility were the true winners in 2008 (Braid was basically a more forgiving version Super Mario Bros. with a generous layer of whimsy slathered on top). However, they ignored an accomplishment that was just as important in this era of reheated video games disguised as the triumph of independence. Ninja Gaiden II preserves the history of the franchise while reminding us why video games were so irresistible to us all those years ago.

While critics and hobbyists continue to complain about the length, price, and difficulty of modern video games, there is one game that defied this call to submit to the needs of video games’ aging audience. Ninja Gaiden II stands alone, upholding the virtues of its forebears from the 8- and 16-bit generations, challenging players at every turn, taunting them, provoking them to attempt to “beat” the game if they dared. It mocks their frustration at the difficulty, its spartan save points allowing only a brief respite, while complaints continued about the repetition and dependence on button mashing. Apparently, nobody has the inclination to repeat entire stretches of a third-person action game anymore, let alone figure out bosses and actually defeat them. Ninja Gaiden II is born of the Old School: it does not agree with the current philosophy of video games, which states that it must be accessible or have some kind of meaning to be worth playing – let alone be worthy of discussion.

Indeed, Ninja Gaiden II is “Old School”, but not in the ironic or patronizing sense of the word. It is of an Old Philosophy, one that has been lost over the years to improvements in graphics, compromises for accessibility or the obsession with coming up with that ever elusive project that will cement video games in cultural legitimacy. We grew up with the Old Philosophy, because that was the most common way video games could add value to its experience. What kind of production could developers put together when writing music and coding graphics for 8-bit video games? Instead, they made them difficult, taking cues from their cousins in the arcades, where the entire point of an arcade cabinet was to take your money. They wanted you to insert credits to continue, even though you weren’t ready for what would come after. These were games that encouraged players to learn the mechanics to the point where it was like breathing, to appreciate the steady increase in difficulty, and the challenges these games posed. Because at the end of it all, when the bad translations scrolled up the screen in a half-hearted closure to the story, you felt like you accomplished something. There was skill involved – and whoever completed that game clearly had some. Any player that had the patience and perseverance to truly learn the game was rewarded. Even though no person outside of that arcade cabinet, TV screen or the subculture itself would be able to appreciate or acknowledge the feat. This was the life of the video games enthusiast, and the reason why we played them.

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It has ninjas and big swords, so it must be cool. Right?

At least, that’s what From Software is hoping. Trying to come up with a list of “must have” games for the 360 in 2009, I came across the platform exclusive Ninja Blade. In concept, it sounded great: standard hack ‘n slash action starring a ninja, and it’s by the same team that brought us the Otogi series for the original Xbox. When the demo was posted on Live a couple of weeks ago, I was pretty excited to give it a try.

Until Ninja Blade revealed its first Quick Time Event (QTE) mere seconds into the game. After hearing some kind of pep talk from the leader of a group of sky-diving ninja, you jump out of plane and are immediately asked to “Press X to attack!”

What are you attacking? It’s not really obvious until after you see the animation of the winged demon-creature crumbling to molten ash under the stinging blade of your sword. At this point my hopes for the game suffered the exact same fate.

I imagine it was what I felt after being presented with the “dodge a boulder!” scene from the beginning of Resident Evil 4. Though Capcom had the audacity to mix up the buttons on each attempt, at least. And I think that’s what bothered me about Ninja Blade’s approach to QTEs. There’s always a second chance. In fact, there are unlimited chances: Ninja Blade will reset the scene and you can try it as many times as necessary to get it right. No dropping back to the previous checkpoint and having to repeat entire sections of game to get better at it. It just lets you try again.

Quick time events should be abolished. They do not belong in video games, especially as a core mechanic for an action game. Instead of skill to complete a sequence of moves, it requires you to obey what is shown on the screen and possess a meager collection of electrical signals shooting from your brain to that thumb on the X button. All of a sudden some complicated animation is shown and the gamer is happy. Look what I did!

None of this feels natural, because the player is no longer in control of the action. There are inherently limits in video games; there have to be rules to limit the scope of any game. But with QTEs, you are directly at the mercy of the game’s pacing, and are effectively being told how to play the game.

This is particularly prounounced in the fight against the giant spider Boss. Some video games still adhere to the conventions of boss fights. There is often an attack that must be dodged by recognizing the boss’s “tell” that he going to launch it. Or learning an attack pattern to find the weak spot and exploit it. It will take many tries to get this right, and then ultimately defeat them. But not in Ninja Blade. Not only did it focus on the target areas in a brief cutscene before the fight, they were the only areas that were accessible to hit. It may as well be another scripted event; it leaves no decision making on the part of the player. Just keep whacking that hot spot, you’ll defeat him eventually.

Ninja Blade isn’t completely uninspired, however. There are sequences where you can go wild with a katana or that big stone sword. It provides a sequence where you fly down the side of a skyscraper to get from one combat area to the next. The sense of scale and speed were perfect through this part of the demo.

But the enemies are far too generic, and while they’re some kind of infected horde they might as well be the burlap sack creatures from Devil May Cry 4. They feel too random, like a pack of wandering skinbags for you to slice up. Not an unstoppable force bent on your destruction. The enemies in Ninja Gaiden II (2008) are varied, and always on the attack whenever you appeared. The game was relentless. It presents bottleneck after bottleneck where you are the only obstacle in their way. Why do I feel like I have a choice to fight the creatures in Ninja Blade?

Nevertheless, the action in Ninja Blade is well scripted and fun to watch. The fight with the giant spider contained some action events involving a wrecking ball on top of a skyscraper. I’ll readily admit it elicited a “holy shit” from me. However, reading the limited number of reviews on the Japanese import, this is pretty representative of what the rest of the game has to offer. But I don’t want to watch a video game. I want to play it¹.

I really had this game built up in my mind (reawakened ninja obsession?), but after experiencing it I couldn’t figure out what this game was selling me. There was nothing there. Like Afro Samurai, it takes a winning concept (extremely violent swordplay) and panders to an audience that doesn’t want this type of game. If anything, Ninja Blade taught me to appreciate the stubbornness of Tomonobu Itagaki and Team Ninja to stick to classic video game design. It provides challenge in its purest form, and certainly a more entertaining experience than waiting for my turn to press the button.

Ninja Blade represents a corruption at the heart of video games. It is not part of a new genre, but an actual path forward for those that think games are too difficult, too long, or do not provide an easily digestible story (and for those that are keeping track, Ninja Blade has no story worth pursuing). It’s slowly happening, so those that think this is a legitimate entry into the action genre will accept it and move on to the next one, not even realizing they have been pressing the “Next” button in a slideshow.

Why shy away from a design that demands mastery of the controls and the core mechanics? This is what we grew up with, what we lived for. This reduction of player investment is not a noble pursuit. It is regression to a new mean.

1. Once again, I refer you to my review of Resident Evil 4. To this day I still cannot get over the praise heaped upon the game that effectively broke the franchise.

Wanted (2008) was a certified entry into the category of brainless entertainment. It is gun porn with bending bullets, for those that still enjoy watching movies with physics defied at every turn. Wanted expressed every subjugated office worker’s fantasy of escaping the life they have made for themselves by settling. Yet despite its pandering to such puerile fantasy, Wanted still worked on some level as a joyride through an adolescent’s brain after they’ve been given a gun and permission to set things right in the world with it.

After I saw the movie, my first thought was where is the video game? This is material positively ripe for exploitation with the medium. Forget The Matrix, because Wanted paints that overwrought philosophical morass with spattered brains and spent casings.

There is one scene in the Wanted film in particular that takes headshots to a new level of disturbing: Wesley, the main character, shoots a man in the eye, jams the muzzle of his pistol into the gaping eye socket and continues to shoot at the remainder of his adversaries through the back of the dead man’s head. How he is able to drag the body attached to his gun like that is a question saved for the same people who thought up the flying leap at the beginning of the film, or how someone is able to shoot bullets with another bullet – but this is beside the point. Wanted: Weapons of Fate could have capitalized on the graphic violence and physics-bending gunplay. But it didn’t. Instead, it comes across as a reheated misson-based shooter that copies the latest trend of duck and cover with bullet-time effects.

The best developers GRIN could come up with for someone’s introduction to the game is running from the cargo area of a passenger plane to the cockpit, while some guys with guns block your way. Who are they? Are they the bodyguards of the man you just killed? It’s a passenger plane, so there’s no way it would be a political figure. This obvious question is never answered. The game just wants you to shoot, and ogle the bullet curving and slow-motion as you jump from cover to cover. And settle.

The controls are clumsy. They ignore conventions set by previous games. The primary reason I even set aside time for this game is to see how they implemented the bullet-bending mechanic that was made so incredibly fascinating by the film. It’s there, but it’s fucking terrible. Bending bullets should be seamless. I should be able to fire a bullet around the corner at hidden adversaries without an early onset of carpel tunnel syndrome. Directing the curve with one of the analog sticks while holding the right shoulder button and releasing it to fire is contradictory to the regular fire, where you actively pull the right trigger. The angles of bullets are also limited. Yes, you should be governed by your current position, but I want more flexibility. Rotating the curve of the bullet feels incredibly closed in, almost as if the flight path was dictated by the environment and not your character’s viewing angle. And you should be able to have a distance gauge, to be able to move the curve closer or farther. We are working in three dimensions here, right? There was also little regard for materials used for cover. If I want to shoot at a guy behind a wooden crate, the bullet should pass through. Or at the very least, the crate should be destroyed after a few shots. This is basic game design, GRIN. I have only seen one portion of the first level and already the game is behind.

There is a crippling lack of creativity in presenting the film’s gratuitous violence in this game. Instead, Weapons of Fate plays it safe and creates a generic third person shooter. Except we don’t need any more of those. Take the licensed property seriously. You are supposed to be an assassin with preternatural skill in this game. How about planning missions out, like it was in the movie? Stalk the quarry, gather intel – fight off minions to get to him if necessary. Kind of like Assassin’s Creed. Make the final assassination satisfying by creating a varying set of moves and skills to use, that should come with being an assassin (Not like Assassin’s Creed). The scope of this game feels so limited, I can’t help but feel that it was a complete waste of the license.

Weapons of Fate should feel glossy. It should have the top notch production and attention to the details of killing people in impossible ways that were in the movie. I want to see teeth flying out of mouths when I pistol whip them. I want to see a trail of brains coiled around a bullet when I shoot adversaries point blank (thank you, Team 7). Wanted could have been the gaming world’s next Soldier of Fortune. Instead, it settles for the uninspired goal of joining the Gears of War and Killzone club. But why? It had a solid premise to build upon that gave ample opportunity to create a shooter needing no excuse for egregious violence.

There are three difficulty levels for this game: “Pussy”, “Assassin”, and “The Killer”. It’s pretty obvious which one reflects the developer’s ambitions.