I played Scribblenauts for a half hour and got nothing done. I worked on two different puzzle levels, and both times, I was thwarted by the game's randomly too-touchy and too-unresponsive touch screen controls. I had the puzzles figured out; I just didn't have the damned ability to execute my plans.
Scribblenauts is an amazing game when you think in terms of art. The developers essentially gave you whatever you felt you needed, gave you a task, and said "have at it". Of course, there was that one developer who felt it necessary to dick it all up by making the game ENTIRELY controlled through the touch screen.
Good times, man, good times.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Immersion and Horror
When I play some games, I don't want to be reminded that I'm playing a game.
Survival Horror, a genre that grew up with technology and its ability to implement sounds and a sense of atmosphere, still doesn't seem to understand that immersion could be its greatest tool.
In our readings in the Video Game Studies book, I was thinking about what was mentioned in he section about Civilization, wherein hardcore players would see through the aesthetic representation of the game and think about functions. Functions are well and good, but dammit, when I'm playing a horror game, I want to be scared.
If I can't get through a door, there better be a damn good reason. Most horror games, (hell, most games) make ironclad wooden doors with locks so strong a good kick wouldn't do much more than leave a scratch. I'm tired of looking for keys and Macguffins. I want to explore and be scared. I there's a puzzle, I want it to be related to the environment and not be random and confusing (piss off, Resident Evil).
I don't want firepower. I don't want to be a highly-trained soldier. I want to be a shop clerk. I want to be a gas station attendant. I want to be a bad shot, I want arthritis, I want flatfeet (Can you see why I like(d) Silent Hill?)
I don't want a menu screen. I want to look into my pockets, rifle through a knapsack, lug something important by hand (Dead Space's menus are ok; at least they're in game).
As far as art and video games, I'm of the opinion that (at least for survival horror) the game should let you forget it's a game, and like the book said, deliver instead an experience. Sometimes, like a book, I want to forget what I'm doing and just be a part of it.
Survival Horror, a genre that grew up with technology and its ability to implement sounds and a sense of atmosphere, still doesn't seem to understand that immersion could be its greatest tool.
In our readings in the Video Game Studies book, I was thinking about what was mentioned in he section about Civilization, wherein hardcore players would see through the aesthetic representation of the game and think about functions. Functions are well and good, but dammit, when I'm playing a horror game, I want to be scared.
If I can't get through a door, there better be a damn good reason. Most horror games, (hell, most games) make ironclad wooden doors with locks so strong a good kick wouldn't do much more than leave a scratch. I'm tired of looking for keys and Macguffins. I want to explore and be scared. I there's a puzzle, I want it to be related to the environment and not be random and confusing (piss off, Resident Evil).
I don't want firepower. I don't want to be a highly-trained soldier. I want to be a shop clerk. I want to be a gas station attendant. I want to be a bad shot, I want arthritis, I want flatfeet (Can you see why I like(d) Silent Hill?)
I don't want a menu screen. I want to look into my pockets, rifle through a knapsack, lug something important by hand (Dead Space's menus are ok; at least they're in game).
As far as art and video games, I'm of the opinion that (at least for survival horror) the game should let you forget it's a game, and like the book said, deliver instead an experience. Sometimes, like a book, I want to forget what I'm doing and just be a part of it.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Xerox Generation
As more or the less the only child growing up in a neighborhood where I had no friends but a tv screen, I was spoiled. Utterly, unarguably, spoiled. As such, I got whatever the hell I wanted, and what I wanted was video games. I got every system I wanted, every Christmas, without fail.
Being brought up like that, I had no idea what a fanboy was. As I was always that bastard that had every system anyway, games were games to me. I came up without a lick of brand loyalty.
Which is why, when it came to a time (about two years ago) where I had to make a choice, I went with Wii first, then Xbox 360. Why? Did I want to play Mario, or Halo? Nope. Couldn't give a damn about either. I wasn't spending 600 dollars on a video game system, simple as that.
Flash two years later. I've been working at Gamestop for two years by now, and if there's anything I've been taught by Gamestop, it's that 1. fanboys continue the exist and 2. there's little point.
Every time a major release comes out, we get at least five copies in the next week. Just goes to show someone always doesn't care about these things. I read through the new release list as I work, and it's often I get surprised by how few exclusive games there actually are. I mean, when Final Fantasy 13 was announced for 360, a bomb might've been dropped on the internet. It's almsot sad; as the systems in this generation get older, they start to get almost identical in library, which is really what the gamer should be worrying about anyway.
Muddling the issue further is the fact that PS3's and 360's cost more or less the same now. I know damn sure that PS3's only 300 bucks now I'll get it. There's all of maybe...3 exclusives I want to play, but hell, I'm still spoiled at heart.
Being brought up like that, I had no idea what a fanboy was. As I was always that bastard that had every system anyway, games were games to me. I came up without a lick of brand loyalty.
Which is why, when it came to a time (about two years ago) where I had to make a choice, I went with Wii first, then Xbox 360. Why? Did I want to play Mario, or Halo? Nope. Couldn't give a damn about either. I wasn't spending 600 dollars on a video game system, simple as that.
Flash two years later. I've been working at Gamestop for two years by now, and if there's anything I've been taught by Gamestop, it's that 1. fanboys continue the exist and 2. there's little point.
Every time a major release comes out, we get at least five copies in the next week. Just goes to show someone always doesn't care about these things. I read through the new release list as I work, and it's often I get surprised by how few exclusive games there actually are. I mean, when Final Fantasy 13 was announced for 360, a bomb might've been dropped on the internet. It's almsot sad; as the systems in this generation get older, they start to get almost identical in library, which is really what the gamer should be worrying about anyway.
Muddling the issue further is the fact that PS3's and 360's cost more or less the same now. I know damn sure that PS3's only 300 bucks now I'll get it. There's all of maybe...3 exclusives I want to play, but hell, I'm still spoiled at heart.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Fighting games and differences of opinion
As a writer on the campus newspaper, I've done a few game reviews, short ones, but reviews nonetheless. I've liked most of the games I've reviewed, but one of the quotes from the article "Truth and Judgment" had me think about one I did, which was for Street Fighter 4 on release.
“Absolutely,” he replied. “There are always good facts and bad facts in any game but no review contains everything. You have a generalised impression and then you match the ratio of facts you wish to present to your feeling of the game.”
This is what Kieron Gillen said of his three review scores of the game Boiling Point.
Now, when I did my review of Street Fighter 4, I gave it a B (M-Times grading uses letter grading), because while I did have fun with it, as a longtime fan of and competitive player of fighting games, I found it lacking. Now that I think about it, I wonder whether or not that would've been accurate for me.
Street Fighter 4 was great for the audience who was just coming in to Street Fighter for the first time. The game was simplified; the parrying system from Street Fighter III was rescinded in favor of the Focus system, which was, in my opinion and some of the fighting game community's a easier to deal with. The entire original cast from Street Fighter 2 returned, welcoming players in with familiar faces. Finally, online play was added, giving new people access to a community that is lost on anyone without friends who play or an arcade people frequent. From the perspective of a new player, Street Fighter 4 could be considered a success.
By that same merit, the reasons that someone new to Street Fighter would like 4 are the same reasons that I as a competitive gamer wouldn't enjoy it.
The game's simpler; I felt losing the parry system for Focus meant matches could often turn into Focus cancel wars as both players tried to block a move and get a free damaging combo, instead of learning pinpoint timing and reading the opponent.
The entire cast of Street Fighter III, whom I actually really liked, were completely gone, not even appearing in cameo roles. What were the people who'd spent hours and hours learning how to play Dudley or Q or Alex supposed to do now? (For the record, I was one of said Alex players).
The question I ask pertains to any review we might write. Do I paint in strokes of grey, as the end of Truth and Judgment suggests? Do I write my review toward a specific audience? Or do I review as it's only my interests and likes at the forefront, and let readers decide for themselves?
“Absolutely,” he replied. “There are always good facts and bad facts in any game but no review contains everything. You have a generalised impression and then you match the ratio of facts you wish to present to your feeling of the game.”
This is what Kieron Gillen said of his three review scores of the game Boiling Point.
Now, when I did my review of Street Fighter 4, I gave it a B (M-Times grading uses letter grading), because while I did have fun with it, as a longtime fan of and competitive player of fighting games, I found it lacking. Now that I think about it, I wonder whether or not that would've been accurate for me.
Street Fighter 4 was great for the audience who was just coming in to Street Fighter for the first time. The game was simplified; the parrying system from Street Fighter III was rescinded in favor of the Focus system, which was, in my opinion and some of the fighting game community's a easier to deal with. The entire original cast from Street Fighter 2 returned, welcoming players in with familiar faces. Finally, online play was added, giving new people access to a community that is lost on anyone without friends who play or an arcade people frequent. From the perspective of a new player, Street Fighter 4 could be considered a success.
By that same merit, the reasons that someone new to Street Fighter would like 4 are the same reasons that I as a competitive gamer wouldn't enjoy it.
The game's simpler; I felt losing the parry system for Focus meant matches could often turn into Focus cancel wars as both players tried to block a move and get a free damaging combo, instead of learning pinpoint timing and reading the opponent.
The entire cast of Street Fighter III, whom I actually really liked, were completely gone, not even appearing in cameo roles. What were the people who'd spent hours and hours learning how to play Dudley or Q or Alex supposed to do now? (For the record, I was one of said Alex players).
The question I ask pertains to any review we might write. Do I paint in strokes of grey, as the end of Truth and Judgment suggests? Do I write my review toward a specific audience? Or do I review as it's only my interests and likes at the forefront, and let readers decide for themselves?
Monday, September 14, 2009
More than just an hour of button-tapping?
When the Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, came out, and I played it, I didn't like the game, was in fact one of the few of my circle of friends that didn't. I don't like time limits, never have, and likely never will.
After reading "The Place of Games in Culture", I might have to go back and actually play through it.
I'll admit I've never really searched for or recognized cultural themes in video games; usually, I just play the thing. I've never thought too hard about what cultural significance a game could have, until now, when I see whole fields about it.
Was the "mask as chance to experience a culture firsthand" always in Zelda and thought up by the developers, or is it entirely after the fact? This concept makes me think of the novel Black Like Me, by John Howard Griffin, where the author travels around southern states passing as a black man. Can games provide a sort of cultural passport for gamers, as a way to experience a culture, at least virtually? Maybe that in itself is a powerful cultural tool a game can use. While movies can give viewers a glimpse into a group of people, a video game, through interactivity, can provide some small measure of being that culture.
Seems easy enough. All arts been doing this for years, and video games seem to be becoming another medium.
After reading "The Place of Games in Culture", I might have to go back and actually play through it.
I'll admit I've never really searched for or recognized cultural themes in video games; usually, I just play the thing. I've never thought too hard about what cultural significance a game could have, until now, when I see whole fields about it.
Was the "mask as chance to experience a culture firsthand" always in Zelda and thought up by the developers, or is it entirely after the fact? This concept makes me think of the novel Black Like Me, by John Howard Griffin, where the author travels around southern states passing as a black man. Can games provide a sort of cultural passport for gamers, as a way to experience a culture, at least virtually? Maybe that in itself is a powerful cultural tool a game can use. While movies can give viewers a glimpse into a group of people, a video game, through interactivity, can provide some small measure of being that culture.
Seems easy enough. All arts been doing this for years, and video games seem to be becoming another medium.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
First Class Reading Post
Coming from an English background, the topic of narration in video games as brought up in the first 12 pages of An Introduction to Game Studies interested me. One of the things I look for when playing a game is whether or not it tells a good story, and that people are developing a field for studying narrative in video games intrigues me. However, the narrative in the game shouldn't be simply a result of what some writer puts together for players to slog through; it should be directly linked to the gameplay itself, which is what the book seemed to be getting at.
For example, First Person Shooters, at first, weren't much more than a bunch of levels that a player would run through while killing hordes of identical monsters. Half-Life showed that it was possible to mesh scripted events with the gameplay, giving players a sense of being in a breathing world, however contrived.
Considering writing, I hope that dialogue and plotting out for these games gets better as more and more writers see digital entertainment as a viable art medium. Honestly, I think video games are an even better medium to work in, because the immersion factor and need to suspend disbelief provides a writer with more challenges and opportunities. Look at Shadow of the Colossus; an aesthetically gorgeous game with a minimalist brand of storytelling that got across perfectly anything you needed to know as far as back story, while being fun in the process. I knew why Wander was killing these Colossi, and I knew something was very bad, but I kept playing because I had to know what happened, much like a good book. The difference was I was part of the story; I was the reason the events were happening.
For example, First Person Shooters, at first, weren't much more than a bunch of levels that a player would run through while killing hordes of identical monsters. Half-Life showed that it was possible to mesh scripted events with the gameplay, giving players a sense of being in a breathing world, however contrived.
Considering writing, I hope that dialogue and plotting out for these games gets better as more and more writers see digital entertainment as a viable art medium. Honestly, I think video games are an even better medium to work in, because the immersion factor and need to suspend disbelief provides a writer with more challenges and opportunities. Look at Shadow of the Colossus; an aesthetically gorgeous game with a minimalist brand of storytelling that got across perfectly anything you needed to know as far as back story, while being fun in the process. I knew why Wander was killing these Colossi, and I knew something was very bad, but I kept playing because I had to know what happened, much like a good book. The difference was I was part of the story; I was the reason the events were happening.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Me. (rambling)
I'm John McKeown, an English/spec writing major with a minor in Journalism, and as mentioned in class, I'm in need of occupation. I'm gonna be a student for another two semesters, and that graduation date and subsequent need of a job is coming at me fast.
I'm taking 298 because, hey, I've been a gamer for years, and a writer for awhile. Like most of us in here, I figured, why not combine the two?
While I'm a big fan of consoles, they weren't my original introduction to the gaming world. I was born in 1986, but I wasn't really alive until 1991, when I was introduced the arcade. I'd be in Aladdin's Castle for hours, playing Mortal Kombat, X-Men, whatever cabinet was available, often with kids over double my age. Never mind that I couldn't reach the controls; they had a stool available for me. 19 years later saw me return to the arcade with the acquisition of their DDR machine; many a weekend was spent stomping away on arrows, with rounds of Time Crisis or Tekken for breaks.
What I miss about arcades is the social aspect. Sure, you have the internet now, but little compares to a crowd of 15-20 people bunched around a Street Fighter cabinet, all watching intently as two players fight and occasionally screaming as a particularly deft offense is mounted. I met roughly 2/3rds of my friends playing DDR every Saturday from 2005 to 2007, and I have only a little shame in admitting that.
My favorite genre of games would be fighting. The satisfaction I get from besting others at virtual one-on-one combat I feel is a rare experience, and since someone is almost always better than you, they have near limitless replay value. I'll admit, there's a bit of an elitist feeling I get from being good at fighting games, beyond just being able to beat a few friends I play at the house. Internet play, I hope, is leading to a revival of the fighting game genre.
I'm taking 298 because, hey, I've been a gamer for years, and a writer for awhile. Like most of us in here, I figured, why not combine the two?
While I'm a big fan of consoles, they weren't my original introduction to the gaming world. I was born in 1986, but I wasn't really alive until 1991, when I was introduced the arcade. I'd be in Aladdin's Castle for hours, playing Mortal Kombat, X-Men, whatever cabinet was available, often with kids over double my age. Never mind that I couldn't reach the controls; they had a stool available for me. 19 years later saw me return to the arcade with the acquisition of their DDR machine; many a weekend was spent stomping away on arrows, with rounds of Time Crisis or Tekken for breaks.
What I miss about arcades is the social aspect. Sure, you have the internet now, but little compares to a crowd of 15-20 people bunched around a Street Fighter cabinet, all watching intently as two players fight and occasionally screaming as a particularly deft offense is mounted. I met roughly 2/3rds of my friends playing DDR every Saturday from 2005 to 2007, and I have only a little shame in admitting that.
My favorite genre of games would be fighting. The satisfaction I get from besting others at virtual one-on-one combat I feel is a rare experience, and since someone is almost always better than you, they have near limitless replay value. I'll admit, there's a bit of an elitist feeling I get from being good at fighting games, beyond just being able to beat a few friends I play at the house. Internet play, I hope, is leading to a revival of the fighting game genre.
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