<pour> a little liquor </pour>

G4 as we know it is no more.

At least, so says a report from Slash Film posted earlier this evening, which states that NBC is rebranding the channel as more of a classy, Esquire-esque destination for men. The content changes were not specified, through a spokesperson did say the channel would focus on the “modern male…whose interests span beyond the dorm room or messy bachelor pad.” Whatever that means.

What remains unclear is how this rebranding will affect G4’s gaming coverage and, more importantly for freelance writers, G4TV.com, where a bulk of the network’s gaming content lives. G4, of course, is one of the few networks on television devoting any airtime to videogames, with programs like X-Play and Attack of the Show holding it down for nerdy cable subscribers. Slash Film mentions that the network is “hoping” to stay true to G4’s geekery, but the switch to more sophisticated- (or, at least, expensive)-sounding programming doesn’t necessarily bode well for players looking to catch their gaming fix in televised form.

Of course, it’s not like G4 has been a haven for gaming content lately. Apart from the two aforementioned shows and event coverage at venues like E3 and Comic-Con, G4 produces precious little in the way of videogame-related programming. In fact, it was mostly episodes of Cops and Cheaters last time I checked—like, five straight hours of Cops and Cheaters—with the occasional movie and Ninja Warrior episode thrown in for good measure. Actually, is Ninja Warrior still on anymore? My point still stands.

Personally, Adam Sessler’s departure dampened much of my enthusiasm for the network. Mr. Sessler was always a voice apart in the mainstream gaming press, very learned, cultured, and prone to make obscure references to literature and film during casual conversation. His critical voice always inspired me, even during the early days of Extended Play on Tech TV, and his absence left a big ol’ hole that all the replacement hosts in the world couldn’t fill.

Incidentally, I think is a classy and wonderful woman, and the main reason X-Play today feels to lopsided is because of how much stronger and more comfortable she sounds in comparison to literally everyone else.

I don’t watch G4 anymore—not being a cable subscriber and all—but I will miss it if NBC decides to phase the nerdy stuff out. There’s a huge market for well-produced gamer programming; heck, look at Machinima and GameTrailers if you need proof. Hopefully the G4 staff will be able to stay on when this new direction takes effect, and land on their feet if they can’t. Guess Geoff Keighley and everyone at Spike will have to hold down television for gamers for now.

Man, first Nintendo Power and now G4? I don’t want to live on this &c.

On waxing nostalgia for JRPGs

Last week, I pre-ordered The Last Story, the newest game from Final Fantasy-creator Hironobu Sakaguchi and his development studio, Mistwalker. I did it partly because I wanted to support Mistwalker and its staff – which includes composer Nobuo Uematsu, a man who must continue to make music until one of us dies – but mostly because I want another classic JRPG. This, despite my seldom-touched copy of Radiant Historia (which is fantastic, by the way) and unplayed download of Penny Arcade Adventures: On the Rain-Slick Precipice of Darkness 3. At this point, pining for old-school JRPGs is just as much an experience as actually playing them.

In fact, I think I spend more time pining for old-school JRPGs than I did actually playing them in the first place. Seriously, when I was a kid I played Chrono Trigger, Super Mario RPG, and Pokemon Blue, and spent the rest of my time lamenting how the JRPG has fallen off and that they don’t make ‘em like they used to. How would I know?! I hardly touched any of them.

Not only that, there HAVE been JRPGs like they “used to make.” Atlus has been pumping them out almost non-stop for at least a decade, and JRPGs ruled the portable gaming roost since the Game Boy Advance (a phenomenon described by Game Informer’s Joe Juba in his excellent editorial, “The Incredible Shrinking RPG“). Hell, Mistwalker already came out with an old-school JRPG a few years ago for Xbox 360; it was called Lost Odyssey and I even bought it. Granted, it’s been sitting on my shelf for the past two years because I’m intimidated by how good it might be, but it’s still there!

My point, Billy, is that the JRPG is fine. Not exactly thriving, mind; we’re a long way from the days of the PlayStation, when sprawling, multi-disc JRPGs came out at least once every two weeks. But with stone-cold stunners like Radiant Historia, Tales of Vesperia, and Xenoblade Chronicles all coming out during the past three or so years – not to mention bunches of worthwhile PSP games I haven’t touched, and other pretty-good JRPGs like Final Fantasy XIII-2 and Blue Dragon - role-playing J-style can hardly be accused of being in any real danger.

Yet I still pine. I think it’s a combination of both rose-colored nostalgia and several excellent games released during quick succession during the Super Nintendo days. With games like Final Fantasy VI and Secret of Mana still living on in today’s gaming conversation, it’s easy to assume that sort of experience happened all the time on the SNES, as though new, convention-challenging JRPGs sprung up on retailer shelves like dandelions.

This notion was strengthened after Final Fantasy VII sold five quadrillion copies and developers started flooding the PlayStation market with JRPG after JRPG, trying to capture in a bottle the lightning Square used to electrify so many gamers. It was a bit like today’s glut of military FPS games chasing after Call of Duty‘s success, only with bigger hair, fewer sniper rifles, and far, far more ellipses.

It’s that prominence that JRPG fans like myself pine for. Yes, we get quality games like Legend of Heroes: Trails in the Sky and Golden Sun: Dark Dawn, but we want MORE! and we want them released front and center! No more being ghettoized to handhelds and curio-publishers like Xseed! Remember how they used to be everywhere? We want that!

Hate to be the one to say it, but that ain’t happening.

It ain’t happening because those sorts of games don’t move enough units in today’s gaming environment, and because the line between what is and isn’t an RPG is blurring like Damon Albarn*. It ain’t happening because the Japanese gaming scene isn’t as strong in America as it once was, and there’s no precedent for hugely successful JRPGs for developers to look to this generation. Mostly, I think, it ain’t happening because developers already *made* those games, and now they’re making something else. Granted, that something seems awfully like military-themed shooters, but bear with me.

Once we – we being those that stay awake at night hoping another Legend of Dragoon will drop out of the sky – realize that JRPGs have had their time in the sun, finding them becomes so much more joyful, like discovering a secret club. We can play them into the ground, because we are older, and though we do not have the time to play them as thoroughly as we once could, we can take our time and savor them without worrying that we’ll miss them in lieu of another JRPG coming out too soon. We can appreciate them for the unique, fun gaming snowflake they are. We can love them in spite of their scarcity – hell, for that, we can love them even more.

Quality JRPGs haven’t bitten the bullet yet, and The Last Story is just another stop along the way. With such a storied history in gaming, the JRPG will never truly die, not as long as there are still gamers who play them. Despite slowing in recent years (also, a few sub-par projects *coughTheLastRemnanthackcough*), JRPGs have been around and will continue to be around. As long as there are turn-based battles and princesses in disguise, JRPGs will be there for gamers.

Guess who’s back. Back again.

I’m back. Back from outer space. You just walked in to find me here with this sad look upon my face. Why didn’t you change this stupid lock? Why didn’t you make me leave my key, if you had known for just one second I’d be back to bug &c.?

Now that we’re done quoting Donna Summer, yes, I have returned from my vacation to Idaho. I had a grand time spending time with my friends, where we visited strange restaurants, drank gin straight from the bottle, and watched at least fifteen different movies in a five-day span; highlights included an encore viewing of both 21 Jump Street (which I rather enjoyed) and Josie and the Pussycats (which I did not). I am rather satisfied.

What I am not, however, is caught up on my writing. Fear not, dear readers, for I have a few topics I’d like to explore before long, but it will still be at least a few days before they surface again. In the meantime, I’ll be trying out Konami’s Castlevania: Lords of Shadow and attempting to finish Spec Ops: The Line. Also, sleep, but you don’t get any achievement points for doing that.

Anyway, just an FYI that more content is on the way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go sit in front of the TV in a soporific stupor and watch Fantasia for at least the third time this week.

Forgiven, but not forgotten: Ryan Perez, Felicia Day, and making mistakes on the internet

What happens when you make a mistake? Growing up, I heard the constant mantra of “Make mistakes, learn from them, and move on,” a fine turn of phrase that encourages trying new things and growing from the experience. I’ve always been frustrated with this middle school counselor-level of advice, though, because the world doesn’t like mistakes. Or rather, you can never be sure of the ones it finds “acceptable” and the ones it will hold against you; the uncertainty of telling which mistake from which keeps me up at night and gives me a great deal of timidity that I need to work past if I want to be a writer.

This reluctance to forget a mistake is amplified on the internet, where mistakes are not only seen, but broadcasted, regurgitated, and archived for future generations to find and scrutinize. If you mess up online, you mess up for good.

Last night, Destructoid writer Ryan Perez had a few choice words about Felicia Day, actress and internet personality best known as the writer and creator of videogame web series “The Guild.” And by “a few words,” I mean “unprovoked condescension based entirely on her gender.” Dear old sexism rears its head yet again; you’d think that after six months of Seriously You Guys Sexism Is Pretty Rampant In The Games Industry articles, Perez would think more carefully about what he says, particularly when it’s blasted across a publicly-accessible social network.

Anyway, Perez drew the ire of the internet for his misogynistic tirade, and Destructoid promptly dismissed him from its services. As it should be; Perez should have realized that his opinions, while not necessarily representing his employer, do reflect the types of personalities that Destructoid hires, and acting like a sexist bully is not endearing behavior for any site.

My biggest concern, though, is what happens to Perez now that is name is Mudd and the internet collectively hates him for vocalizing some admittedly-harsh and stupid opinions.

The general opinion about Perez is “eff that guy” and move on, and while I agree with Destructoid’s decision to end relations with him, I still feel like the internet, caught in the moment of administering justice, has condemned him to… well, “death” is a strong word, and much more sensational than I want. “Exile” might be better; he’ll forever have a scarlet letter across his chest when he seeks employment anywhere online now, specifically his vile, sexist tweets. It’s easy to say “Yeah, well that’s what he deserves” and move on, but like it or not, Perez is a human being too, with hopes, dreams, and living expenses like everyone else, and I’m not sure if anyone deserves the internet-caliber levels of loathing and vilifying because of one night’s lapsed judgment.

He should take responsibility for his words, yes, but what happens when he’s learned his lesson and wants to get back into the industry? Will he be forever shunned because he was The Guy Who Was A Jerk To Felicia Day? Have his ugly opinions sentenced him to a life of folding jeans at JC Penny’s? I saw one person say “Good, one less foul stench at events.” He’s a human being, man! Are you telling me that we’re barring this guy from ever writing about games again, even if he comes around and recognizes the error in his ways?

This is what terrifies me about the internet: knowing that someday, when I do make a mistake, it will be tattooed across my forehead, and I’ll live in the shadow of it forever. Granted, I hope I will know better than to baselessly and publicly attack a well-known internet personality from a place of privilege, but it’s a difference of degrees. Somewhere down the line, despite my best efforts otherwise, I am going to make a mistake, and I will have to own it for the rest of my life. The prospect of the internet discarding all of my earlier work in favor of my mistake and then promptly throwing me under a bus unnerves me something awful. Are we that remorseless here? Will my misguided words prevent me from eating, even if I am truly sorry and want to repent?

I don’t think it’s unfair to say that generally we writers chose our profession from a place of insecurity. Maybe there was a bully or two in each of our lives, and maybe we wanted to even the score but couldn’t. This is why, when we see wrong-doing on the internet, we rush to defeat the bully, to vanquish the boss from our childhood and restore peace to the land. Sometimes we do that by becoming bullies ourselves; Paul Christoforo was certainly an asshole, but man did we take extreme measures to bring him down. What does it matter if we’re spewing hateful language or turning into the villains we want to defeat, because Justice is on our side; after all, HE’S the bully, so HE should pay the consequences. Perez is feeling the latest round of internet crusading; not only has he lost his job and perverted his relationship with every publication on the web that would do business with him, he also must now deal with libel and hate speech directed at him from now until the internet moves on to the next round of Controversy.

I wish there were a class in school about learning from mistakes, a piece of instruction conspicuously absent from that stupid pithy aphorism. It’s one thing to say “Learn from your mistakes,” but it’s quite another to live with them after you’ve made them. I just want to know that everything will be alright when I made them, and that each mistake I make doesn’t bring me closer to death.

Ryan Perez said some stupid things on Twitter last night, and I think he needs to reexamine his views of women. That doesn’t mean that I want him to still be paying for his blunder when he’s 35, either. He has lost his job and needs to deal with his demons; that’s quite enough to be getting on with, so let’s lay off of the personal attacks. Show a bit of empathy because who knows, you might be in his place tomorrow.

Brothers in arms? – Fighting against U.S. soldiers in Spec Ops: The Line

A few months ago, at PAX East, I got an opportunity to play a new military third-person shooter by Yager Development called Spec Ops: The Line. I enjoyed how deadly the gameplay was compared to most third-person shooters (which, aside from Max Payne 3, all feel like their firearms shoot bits of popcorn and hydrangea petals instead of sub-sonic motes of hot lead), but I didn’t think it was anything terribly special. Imagine my surprise, then, when I saw several gaming journos I respect extolling the praises for Spec Ops: The Line on Twitter. Most acquiesced that it had its share of problems, but they all went on to discuss its story, how the moral choice system actually affected their experience with the game, and recommending it in spite of (maybe even because of) it being a military shooter.

Well, hell, I thought. Here’s a new game from an unproven developer taking on a long-dormant franchise that petered out around 2001. I’ll see your interesting story and raise you $60.

I played it for about an hour and a half last night, retreading all of the sections that I demoed at PAX and delving much deeper into Spec Ops: The Line‘s man narrative. Just like at PAX, I still like how I need to actually use cover to survive and how Spec Ops punishes sloppy play, and I dig how I can issue orders to my teammates like targeting a specific enemy or throwing a flash grenade; minor league stuff compared to the Ghost Recons and ARMAs of the world, but it injects enough variety into a cover-based, spectacle-driven shooter that helps it stand out. But most of all, I’m becoming more and more excited for the story as I progress further and further. Suffice it to say, Spec Ops: The Line is a long way from the gung-ho, Oorah patriotism and heroism found in games like the Modern Warfare series, and the dark edges permeating nearly every story beat give me the feeling that events could go South for everyone in a hurry.

The largest spot of darkness I’ve encountered so far, one that gave me the most pause while playing, happens about an hour or so into Spec Ops: The Line‘s single-player campaign. Your team of crack commandos is ordered to enter the now-storm-ravaged city of Dubai in hopes of finding any survivors, either civilian or from the 33rd Army Division who were sent in to facilitate everyone’s exit. Players begin the game by rescuing several hostages from bands of insurgents (from where? Who cares?), looking and playing similar to tons of military shooters already in existence.

Then, in chapter four, everything changes.

After fighting through a luxurious hotel, Captain Walker and his squad realize an American is controlling the enclave of insurgent fighters. Walker discover a band of surviving American soldiers, remnants of the 33rd, but instead of welcoming Walker and co., they draw their guns and greet everyone with a hail of bullets.

If I can credit Yager with one thing, it’s subverting my expectations of engaging in combat. By opening Spec Ops: The Line with the chapters of shooting at anonymous insurgents, Spec Ops dulls you to the humanity of the enemy you’re fighting, making them feel like by-the-book extremists from any other military game from the past five years. Then, when you’re instead asked to shoot United States Army soldiers, Spec Ops eggs you into shooting at fellow American soldiers with the same glib heartlessness it did when the objective is killing faceless, nameless “insurgents.” Walker makes a comment about needing to defend themselves, but it’s strained at best.

Moreover, the sensation of firing on American soldiers, targets that don’t have the Other-ing fig leaf that Middle-Eastern terrorists do in other shooters, never feels less than icky. Your opponents shout between each other in English, calling for help, giving orders, or reporting on fellow downed soldiers. It’s unnerving, and I think it’s Yager’s way to get gamers to reexamine their take on in-game violence; to see how Spec Ops treats American soldiers, soldiers that have families, children, and dreams for when they get back home, like faceless grunts, and invite players to extend the same empathy to future assailants that look differently or speak a different language.

It reminds me of the Connecticut missions from Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. Back in 2009, I had never seen America repel a foreign invasion in a videogame; the sight of Russian troops taking cover in small-town shopping centers reminded me of how I would find cover in bombed-out shops in games like Medal of Honor: Allied Assault, and I found new identification with previous gaming environments by recognizing that people used to live there. Digital people, perhaps, but people nonetheless.

With Spec Ops: The Line, Yager is having a troll at the consequence-free violence perpetuated by the rest of the gaming industry, easing us into the idea that we’ll be shooting at “foreign enemies” for the remainder of the game and instead flipping expectations by making the enemies our own countrymen. In Dubai, people will die by your hand, and I hope that more gamers will give pause when gunning down waves of faceless grunts, recognizing that ultimately they’re just like them.

Want to know how to spell “vindication” in five characters?

One of my biggest E3 “disappointments” (if you could call it that) was the lack of a new 3DS hardware announcement from Nintendo at their press conferences. Actually, aside from the Wii U, they didn’t announce a whole heck of a lot at their press conferences. Regardless, I was absolutely convinced that Nintendo would unveil a new model of the 3DS at the show, and became horribly put-out when it failed to show.

Until Thursday night.

Nintendo sure loves their press conferences, hosting no less than three of them at this year’s E3, and they held a special event on Thursday 6/21 at 1:00am MDT during which they unveiled the new 3DS XL. Yes, XL. I won’t pretend to have predicted the new model would be a bigger iteration, a la the DSi XL; I thought they would go Lite, like the DS before it, and then go larger. Silly boy, Andrew, huge screens are all of the rage these days.

And the 3DS XL screen is, indeed, huge. the top one is a 4.88-inch 16:9 display, nearly matching the PS Vita’s massive 5-inch OLED screen, though likely not as bright. The bottom screen measures 3.53 inches and looks roughly the same size as my DSi XL screen. Happily, the whole unit is also roughly the same size as my DSi XL, meaning I can tote the thing around in my satchel with no problem.

In addition to the bump in screen size, the 3DS XL also sports longer battery life. Measuring 3DS battery life is tricky, as it depends on how strongly the 3D is active, but Nintendo estimates it will perform from 3.5 to 6.5 hours on 3DS games, up from 3-5 hours. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than it was, and like I said in my change of heart write-up, I’m now okay with charging my gaming devices as often as I would charge my phone.

Unfortunately (and rather bone-headedly, in my opinion), Nintendo opted not to build in a second analogue stick into the 3DS XL, meaning that I’ll likely have to purchase a Circle Pad Pro XL if I want competent camera control in games like Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater 3D or Resident Evil: Revelaitons. Which is to say that I won’t ever be experiencing competent camera control in games like Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater 3D or Resident Evil: &c. Perhaps Nintendo wants more creativity-by-way-of-limitation from developers, and so they chose to leave it off? Seems like a missed opportunity to me, largely because it prevents third-party devs from doing copy-paste ports of “real” console games (e.g. the Modern Warfare series). Also, camera control on the 3DS will continue to eat it.

Still, as a prospective 3DS buyer, I’m excited for the 3DS XL. I love the huge screen on my DSi XL, and I’m glad I won’t have to “settle” for a smaller screen when I make my hardware upgrade. It releases just a few days before my birthday, too, so there’s that (heavily implied hint).

A few notes on the hardware:

  • The 3DS XL seems to be made of a muted, matte finish akin to the DSi XL, rather than the glossy, shiny stuff currently plating the 3DS. I’m all for the low-key look of the new system, especially since it gives the 3DS XL a humble, “lived-with” look that a sensible adult might carry around to play games.
  • The old 3DS used to have a light-up display next to the 3D slider, but the light is nowhere to be found on the new one. Good. I always through it looked silly.
  • The headphone jack has moved to the bottom-left of the system from the direct middle.
  • Face buttons appear less squishy than their 3DS counterparts, resembling the click-y buttons on the DSi XL. I haven’t had any experience with the 3DS face buttons, but my DSi XL buttons treat me well, so I welcome the change.
  • Those goofy-looking Start, Select, and Home buttons have been changed to anything in the world other than the weird nubs on the previous iteration. Actually, I like the segmented, natural look on the 3DS XL, but I’m mostly relieved that they’re different from what’s available now.

I am so glad I’ve held off buying a 3DS until now. Granted, I’m a bit bummed that I won’t be able to have a new handheld to break in over summer vacation, but I’m content knowing that I waited until a) more and better games started appearing on the system, and b) I’ll have the biggest and best version of Nintendo’s new handheld. What with the 3DS and the Wii U both dropping this year, it looks like Nintendo will be receiving a healthy chunk of my money this year.

Games I plan to buy for my 3DS XL

  • Super Mario 3D Land
    C’mon, it’s Mario. I loved what I played at a Target kiosk over Christmas break, and I’m jonesing to dive into more portable-friendly platforming.
  • Epic Mickey: The Power of Illusion
    Speaking of games about jumping on things, here is a sequel to a Capcom platforming game from nearly twenty years ago, but gussied up with sprites so beautifully-drawn the SNES couldn’t possibly have handled them. Also, you meet up with Rapunzel from Tangled. Gimme dis game.
  • Mario Kart 7
    I haven’t owned a Mario Kart game since the Nintendo 64, and I am all kinds of ready to start my engines again, especially since the 7 harbors some of the best tracks in the series according to the staff at Game Informer.
  • The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D
    I love breaking out a huge adventure game on the road, and Ocarina of Time‘s 3D port gives me yet another excuse to play through my first and favorite experience with the Zelda series.

Doing opens worlds right with Batman: Arkham City and Assassin’s Creed II

I’ve recently started playing Batman: Arkham City again, partly because I didn’t get a chance to finish it when I came out in September, but mostly because it came free with my PlayStation 3 and I want a break from endlessly shooting dudes in the face (that said, love you, Max Payne 3!). I’ve just finished my last Augmented Reality training mission, and now I’m soaring around Arkham City to my heart’s content, saving political prisoners from Penguin’s thugs and answering calls from serial killer Zasz while completely disregarding the main storyline.

Wait a minute, isn’t that sort of frittering about what I don’t like about open-world games?

You may have seen my previous disparaging thoughts on open-world games and why they’re not my cup of tea—if not, then you ought to have. I’ll sum them up in brief: open-world games tend to concentrate on creating a huge, sprawling environment for players to explore, often at the expense of a cohesive storyline and compelling play mechanics. Talk to fans of Skyrim, for instance, about their favorite part of the game, and you’re less likely to hear about its combat system or sweeping narrative as you are to hear them recount stories of joining this guild or trekking through that part of the environment. Fans of GTA will likely tell you about the sense of place found in Liberty City, along with the thrill of going berserk inside their private, explosive sandbox.

This is well and good, and judging by the sales of Skyrim, GTA and others, gamers have no problem enjoying games with a more open-ended focus. Myself, I can’t justify the time. Many open-world games, by design, are not terribly directed experiences, content instead with letting players create their own fun. I have enough difficulty fitting games into schedule as it is (or so I keep telling myself), and I need that direction in order to justify the time I spend with them. Perhaps it’s because I was reared on so many linear 2D platformers, where the sheer mechanics are fun enough for the game to feel respectful of one’s time, but I rarely have the patience for games without a strong sense of direction.

What compels me to explore Arkham City and Renaissance Italy so thoroughly is the promise of a well-implemented and directed single-player experience when I’m through exploring. The critical path in both Assassin’s Creed II and Batman: Arkham City is just as focused and polished as other top-tier linear game. If I wanted, I could ignore the sidequests in Batman: Arkham City entirely and still get my money’s worth from the game’s core missions. By contrast, missions in the GTA series always feel mercenary in their design, hardly distinguishable from each other and their place in the story, and the best way to enjoy them is in the context of simply being able to do them at all.

To me, Grand Theft Auto has always been the Old Country Buffet of videogames, offering players all sorts of choices to fill up on, choices that are so-so by themselves but together add up to a tasty meal. I have always preferred restaurants with a more specific focus; a steak from the Rib and Chop House will likely taste better than one from the OCB. Batman: Arkham City somehow pulls off the impossible: it provides a sumptuous feast of tasty delights, and each course is lovingly prepared and crafted by the finest artisan chefs *.

Since I feel so secure in the knowledge that I can enjoy the core game without making excuses, I have no qualms about trying to accomplish the more esoteric achievements in Arkham City and Assassin’s Creed II. It’s all a matter of hoodwinking myself into enjoying the game’s sprawl; if the main game makes good use of my time, I tell myself, then the rest of it must be equally as respectful. Granted, some of the extra guild challenges in Assassin’s Creed can feel pretty masturbatory (the ones that reward me money, in particular, smack loudly of Meaningless Sidequest syndrome), but again, I can still turn a blind eye to the extras and still lose myself in Ezio’s story, sans extra window dressing.

The exception here is Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning, which is just as aimless and wandering as many of the games I’m accusing, if not more so. Amalur differs itself with its action-packed and addictive combat, though, fooling me into feeling like I’m playing a more focused, sequenced game. Even though sidequests are as incident-free as you could hope, it honestly, truly doesn’t matter when I’m tearing up goblins and trolls like Kratos from God of War. Fun, remarkable mechanics win out over nearly anything in the video game space, but only if they’re fun and remarkable; I don’t care how competent your cover-based shooting mechanic is, you’re going to have to show me more than that in 2012, thanks.

I’ll try to open myself up to more open-world games going forward, especially since I’ve had such a strong run of good ones lately; Dragon’s Dogma possesses a strong, fun combat system and engrossing quests in addition to its large territory, and I keep itching to play through Dark Souls again (even though that game is, on the surface, anything but respectful for my time, its NES-like “try, fail, learn, succeed” feedback loop satisfies me in ways I couldn’t have predicted). Hopefully developers can pay attention to Rocksteady and Ubisoft Montreal’s efforts to create an engrossing critical path along with a world worth getting lost in.

No need for aiming assists in Max Payne 3

Right now, I’m reviewing Max Payne 3 for Gamer’s Guide to Life.com. Since there’s no actual embargo anymore, I feel okay in telling you that I like what I’ve played, as well as confident that the forces at Rockstar Vancouver won’t breach through my window and smash my head in with empty bottles of whiskey and pharmaceuticals for doing so. I enjoy the shooting mechanics so far, what with the Bullet Time® and Shoot Dodge™ing*, but I’m having the most fun with the aiming system. Max Payne 3 features several settings for aiming, including the ability to turn off the game’s targeting-assist. When I played Max Payne 3 earlier this year at PAX, I had trouble wrangling headshots out of the game’s auto-aiming system, so I disabled it shortly after firing up my Xbox 360. I waste more ammo with the snap-to system turned off, but I’ve slowly gotten better about training my cursor on baddie foreheads, and I’m starting to appreciate the level of skill it takes to aim au naturel.

After a few missions, just to see what would happen, I turned the auto-target back on for one firefight. Much to my surprise, I found that Max Payne 3‘s thrilling slow-motion gun battles feel significantly less thrilling when the aiming mechanics more closely resemble Call of Duty. In fact, with the auto-target on, Max Payne 3 goes from a stylish shooter made in the vein of John Woo action films to a gritty, high-def version of Duck Hunt.

I don’t usually feel this way about games with snap-to targeting. I’ve always thought Call of Duty‘s auto-aim was one of its most ingenious design decisions (it allows for less-skilled players to move through the game like a badass, broadening the series’ appeal), and it’s never bothered me in myriad games that have copied it. Yet, for some reason, turning the aim-assist off feels like the “right” way to play Max Payne 3 and anything less seems tantamount to cheating.

I think design objective is a big part. The recent Call of Duty games are all about putting the player in the thick of huge, bombastic setpiece moments, and the fast-paced, deadly gunplay helps facilitate this; survive from point “A” to point “B,” and do it with as little friction as possible. It’s all very fun, but it also doesn’t leave much room for deeper, less-straightforward ways to shoot stuff up real good.

Max Payne 3 feels different, even from other third-person action games. Max Payne 3‘s gunplay is rich and layered, like it’s the main event of the game rather than a way to shuttle players from one setpiece moment to another. Max can seek cover, dodge, enter bullet time, and rack up revenge kills, allowing for a wide range of options during firefights. Using auto-targeting to hone in on enemies feels cheap, like I’m not enjoying the game “properly.” It’s almost as if the game is saying, “Yeah, he’s dead, so what?” whenever I kill an enemy; “Did you have fun taking it down, or did you enjoy how we did it for you? LOL!”

The thing is, the game wasn’t as fun when I could immediately put an enemy in my sights. It becomes automatic, simply another thing I have to do on the way to the next big gameplay moment. Which is a poor way to play Max Payne 3, because there are no setpices, at least that I’ve come across so far. Each gunfight is its own reward to participate in, challenging to survive and gratifying to master; lining up three headshots in one leap all by myself may end up being one of my favorite gaming moments this year. Automatically targeting each baddie with a pull of the left trigger button squanders the thrill of using Max Payne 3‘s many combat elements in favor of reductive simplicity, similar to reading a plot summary to The Sixth Sense immediately before watching it, or someone telling a joke and immediately explaining it afterwards.

I’m now very curious to play fire up Modern Warfare 3‘s campaign again and try playing it without auto-aim, if it’s even allowed. The game has such a linear, driving focus, and I wonder if stopping to actively aim would cause the game’s pacing to suffer.

Last point: playing without auto-aim fits well with the slightly old-school design that Max Payne 3 adheres to. After all, Max collects healing items instead of regenerating health automatically and can hold more than two weapons at a time. With the auto-aimed turned off, Max Payne 3 becomes a worth successor to the PC and Xbox* classic; without it, Max Payne 3 changes into yet another post-Modern Warfare shooting game with a third-person camera angle.

Playing without snap-to targeting is devilishly tricky and I don’t recommend everyone try it, especially since the difficulty ramps up something fierce during later chapters. All the same, I will continue to enjoy working for my kills in Max Payne 3 sans auto-aim, just the way I didin the first game. Some things weren’t meant to change.

Error 37: A cautionary tale

Anticipation is a mofo, isn’t it?

Last night, millions (literally, millions) of gamers switched on their computers in hopes of playing Diablo III, the newest in Blizzard’s hack-y, slash-y, click-y action-RPG series and a game certain corners of the internet have been frothing for since 2000. Their hopes were misplaced. All through the night, into the morning, and again through following evening, players valiantly attempted to start their game. Instead, they encountered the by-now-infamous “Error 37,” a notice that Diablo III‘s servers were over capacity and wouldn’t allow any more players in.

Now, wait a minute, servers?

Yes, dear readers, Blizzard chose to fit Diablo III with a mandatory online connection, similar to the DRM Ubisoft put into several of its PC games a few years ago, like Assassin’s Creed II. In a nutshell, the game requires players to be connected to the internet at all times during the course of play, even during single-player situations.

Blizzard could have implemented this persistent online connection for any number of reasons: piracy prevention, design decisions based around the game’s real-money-accepting auction house, more-easily integrated online play, whatever. I am still baffled, though, that the company decided to go through with using the connection requirement; Ubisoft’s Always On DRM met with extreme unpopularity upon release, and eventually was rebuffed and lost to the annuls of history (with the exception of bloggers like myself who dig through past screw ups for argument-strengthening examples).

Baffled. Even if the Always On persistent connection hadn’t been a PR nightmare for Ubisoft, I’m still shocked that launching several World of Warcraft expansions didn’t give Blizzard enough prior experience to deal with millions of gamers looking to play the thing they bought for $59.99 at Target all at the same time.

Seriously, gamers hoping to play through the single-player portion of their campaign are held up from doing so because of ill-thought-out and poorly-implemented DRM. Granted, “not getting to play a video game” ranks pretty high on the First World Problems chart (somewhere between “they only had white zinfandel” and “We had to go see The Avengers in 3D instead of 2D“), but it is still a case of consumers not being able to use a product that they paid money for.

This is why I have a strict cabin-in-the-woods policy when it comes to single-player games. That is, if I can’t take a game to my family’s cabin on Lindbergh Lake (a location sans-mobile phone service and often lacking internet connection) and still enjoy myself, I write the game right off. There are simply too many moments in my life where reliable online access isn’t guaranteed, and despite the ever-expanding presence of 3G wireless and high-speed broadband, I still feel like a game should be able to speak for itself without having to look to the internet. Besides, having that criteria helps thin out the games I actually care about.

Anyway, who knows how long it is before Diablo III can even be played without having to suffer through Old Republic-esque queue times, but it needs to be soon. Honestly, I hope Blizzard drops the need for a persistent online connection; it’s a crappy deal that ultimately benefits no one. Hopefully, Blizzard and pissed-off gamers can reconcile and go back to living in non-Metacritic-bombing harmony, but in the meantime, I’m going to go play Max Payne 3, a game that, remarkably, you can start playing as soon as you close the disc drive.

The story’s the thing: whatever happened to storytelling in JRPGs? (Gamer’s Guide to Life – 5/2/12)

I love JRPGs, and I never miss an opportunity to write about them when I can. Unfortunately, I rarely have time to play new ones nowadays, and there’s a lack of quality, high-profile examples of the genre lately. That doesn’t stop me from breaking down what I have played, though, and scrounging around for time to play other JRPGs and write about them (oh, Radiant Historia, it pains me to know how inactive you are in my DSi XL right now).

This article’s a bit old (in truth, I wrote a few months ago), but I still feel it’s relevant to current game design discussions. Not as topical as I’d like, granted, but it gives me a chance to strut one of my pet theories about storytelling in video games. Also, I get to allude to Korean soap operas, so there’s that.

Title: “The story’s the thing: whatever happened to storytelling in JRPGs?”
Outlet: Gamer’s Guide to Life
Publish Date: 5/2/12

Back in January, Square Enix released Final Fantasy XIII-2, a follow-up to Square’s most recent (and, in some circles, controversial) entry in the long-running JRPG series.

Reviews of the game range from lukewarm to rather positive, but many of the critiques boil down to the same thing: the combat and gameplay are fun, but the story is awful.

Read the rest at Gamer’s Guide to Life.

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