BigBob

I recently finished Heavy Rain for the first time, and I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  The game isn't perfect; the movement controls are some of the worst in gaming, and there's a glaring plot thread that goes unexplained, but looking past its flaws, I found that Heavy Rain made me feel tense.  Normally when a story unfolds in a game, you're just watching it.  Even a game like Mass Effect, with its constant dialogue choices still gave me the security that its choices really wouldn't matter, because I know there's another game on the way, and it's impossible for my every decision to have a huge impact on what's coming next.  As a result, responses to my past decisions are less shocking, and more "Oh hey, I remember doing that". 
 
Heavy Rain changed all that. 
 
Simply knowing that my each and every decision could have serious consequences left me questioning what I should and shouldn't do.  I left several scenes wondering "what if", but I'm almost too scared to go back through the game again and see.  I almost feel like I want the game to be my own experience, one that replaying would diminish the effect.  Knowing that I can screw up and the game can go on regardless added much more tension to a scene than expecting a game over screen and trying again.  In Mass Effect, you are given as much time as you want to choose any given dialogue option, but in Heavy Rain, many decisions are timed.  You have a limited time to decide the best course of action, and not only that, but sometimes your options are intentionally difficult to read and follow, because that's just how freaking tense the situation is. 
 
Some spoilers for Heavy Rain follow.  Nothing too major, but be warned.
 
Alright? Good.  For all the negative gamer stereotypes out there, where all we play are constant gore-filled shooters, there is a definite truth to it.  We can all accept that games like Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood, Mass Effect 2, and Red Dead Redemption are well-designed games with mature stories, but you can't shake the fact that all three of those games have killing as a common gameplay mechanic.  These are nameless, faceless enemies we're gunning down, with no emotional attachment or remorse whatsoever.  But Heavy Rain takes death very, very seriously.  Right from the start, Jason's death kicks off the game, and Shawn's kidnapping soon after.  We're given the options to kill a crazy religious extremist and a shotgun-wielding drug dealer, but in both cases, it's a very serious offense, one the player is encouraged to ponder, even if the people in question aren't what you would call "innocent". 
 
Yet the game is fully aware of that, and a later action sequence has you gunning down nameless, faceless henchmen on the other end of a quick-time event.  I paradoxically enjoyed the scene, but the implications of my doing so eventually became very clear.  You can play a game like Just Cause 2, which gives you all sorts of crazy ways to torture innocent civilians, but then we see just what it's like when the protagonist is forced to cut off a finger.  When I first heard about this scene, I had no idea just how intense it would be.  On paper it sounds bad, but still manageable, story-wise.  But in the scene where you do so, you have the chance to explore a small apartment.  I found a pair of scissors, a hacksaw, and a butcher knife.  Obviously, the knife would be the best choice for cutting off a WHY THE HELL IS THIS EVEN A CHOICE HOLY CRAP.  The mere fact that I have the option to choose how to mutilate myself just makes the scene crazier.  Not only that, but I found a piece of wood to place in my mouth just to have something to grit my teeth again when I actually do the deed.  The attention to detail in this scene is crazy.  The slightly misleading button inputs caused me to screw up the sequence a few times, but it served to enhance my immersion rather than detract from it.  It gave the sense that I was bracing myself for it, only to chicken out at the last moment.  You can't get that kind of tension from any other game. 
 
There are plenty of memorable moments like this in Heavy Rain, but I think it speaks for itself.  The game has a sizeable list of problems, and I've heard many people complain of its quality.  They're justified, but I still feel this is a game you need to play for yourself.  It's gritty and dark, and left a huge impression on me.

" When do the polls close? "

Dead Rising is ahead, and Persona is catching up, but we need the support!

Well, 15 minutes in things are looking alright, but we need more votes! 
 
 http://www.gamefaqs.com

On Wednesday, Persona 4 will be facing off against Dead Rising in the GameFAQs "Game of the Decade" contest.  In Round 1, Dead Rising beat The World Ends With You in a close match, and Persona 4 beat Braid convincingly.  Now the two will face off to see who gets to round 3, where the winner will fight Resident Evil 4!  (spoilers: RE4 wins) 
 
I figure that there's no better place to come for P4 support than Giant Bomb.  Just remember that after noon on Wednesday, go to www.GameFAQs.com and vote for Persona 4.  Teddie will appreciate it.

Ever since playing the old Sonic the Hedgehog games as a kid, I've been a fan of platformers.  As a kid I endlessly played the various mascot-based platformers, regardless of their quality, because the concept of jumping on things is something I've always found consistently fun.  The various Marios, Metroids, and Mega Mans only further fueled my obsession with the genre, until the 2000s when it suddenly seemed like the industry was shifting away from them.  With characters like Jak and Ratchet, platformers became more obsessed with shooting things.  Viewtiful Joe, as fun as it was, was more of a beat-em-up.  And of course, with my general tastes becoming better, Ty the Tazmanian Tiger wasn't nearly as entertaining as Busby the Bobcat had been a decade before.  It seemed like the platformer genre was dying, and I was ready to move on.  Platformers just weren't as popular as they used to, when you can typically blame the shift to 3D. 
 
However, thanks to the miracle that is digital distribution, it's easier than ever for independent studios to release games, and most of all, we're seeing a ton of quality releases on XBLA and PSN.  I've already talked about Limbo and why you should buy it, but games like Braid, Mega Man 9, and now Super Meat Boy are showing me that platformers are awesome again.  Developers are getting creative, and while some don't really "get it" (I'm looking at you, Sonic 4), Super Meat Boy is an excellent example of how to make a retro-style game, and do it right. 
 
Again, previously I've talked about how retro-style design can be hurtful to the gaming industry.  Games like Scott Pilgrim and Dragon Quest IX stick too close to genre conventions to actually do anything new, and wind up keeping all the poor design issues old games had.  Super Meat Boy takes everything that's great about retro games, and wisely does away with everything holding the genre back.  Point number 1 is lives; a limited number of lives is a far outdated game mechanic that even major studios still have issues with (and one of my few complaints with the Mario Galaxy games).  With a lives system in place, once you die so many times, you're booted back to the main menu, where the player just goes back to the same level and tries again; there's no point to it other than wasting the players' time.  Sadly, the bonus levels in Super Meat Boy have lives, and as a result, being constantly booted out to the level select screen is not your idea of "fun".  Even the super-difficult "I Wanna Be The Guy" is only tolerable thanks to infinite lives, giving you freedom to experiment with different solutions to problems, and lessening the impact of a cheap death.   
 
Still, there are other aspects to Super Meat Boy's design that I love.  When so many games suffer from repetition, it's refreshing to see Meat Boy have consistently new levels that don't often repeat the same tricks you're used to.  New game mechanics are introduced in a way that allows the player to understand before continuing into the really hard parts.  Yet, it's amazing just how many levels there are.  The main storyline is several hours long, but you're still encouraged to speedrun, play the dark world version of levels, and unlock all the hidden characters (as masochistic as The Kid's level was, I loved it).  It's an odd feeling when my only criticism of the game is the annoying stage transition in the main menu. 
 
I'd also like to mention that the game has a great sense of humor that extends far beyond just pop culture references (or in this case, internet memes).  A good story's always nice in the game, but Super Meat Boy does the smart route and gives us entertaining cutscenes that help the story along, while never actually making a big deal of it.  The subtle callbacks to classic games like Mega Man 2, Ninja Gaiden, and Pokemon also give you something to point and laugh at.  And while the game doesn't have the same big name star appeal of games like Smash Bros or Marvel vs. Capcom, Meat Boy is a joy to those hardcore gamers who recognize faces like Tim, Commander Video, Alien Hominid, the Ninja, and of course, the Kid.  It's nice to see a game be legitimately funny for once, rather than the failed attempts at comic relief in games like inFamous or Alan Wake.  The occasional playing with game tropes (such as infinite lives, or the "everything's trying to kill you" design of IWBTG) is handled well, though the game's natural humor in dealing with obstacles is probably all it needs. 
 
All in all, Super Meat Boy's honestly one of the best games I've played all year.  It's consistently fun, funny, charming, and masochistic.  It has a level of difficulty that pleases the hardcore, but a learning curve that understands that not every gamer is the best there ever was.  It's filled with secrets that keep you coming back for more, and it is never, ever boring, but still retains enough content to last you a long time.  The best part?  It's only 10 bucks until November 21.  Go buy it now, dammit.

I haven't played many JRPGs as of late, mainly because most of the genre is derivative and unimaginative at this point.  It seems like every time a new JRPG comes out, I'm interested in it for a bit, before a huge deal breaker shows up and I'm no longer interested (This description brought to you by Arc Rise Fantasia, a game that looked awesome until everyone started talking).  Square-Enix in particular has been very hit-or-miss for me.  The World Ends With You was a fun little game but still too annoying to be recommendable, Kingdom Hearts: 358/2 Days was fine, aside from the fact that you could just play Kingdom Hearts 2 again and be better off, and Final Fantasy XIII, which started being fun once I turned the game off and started playing 3D Dot Game Heroes instead. 
  
However, it was this summer's release of Dragon Quest IX that set off my cynicism for the company.  Dragon Quest is an insanely popular series in Japan, so you would figure the game must have some merits.  To add to that, I played Dragon Quest VIII several years ago and thought it was pretty damn fun, if a bit slow.  So, I popped DQIX in my DS and was ready to head off on my epic adventure. 
 
Apparently before you can pick up a sword and start saving people, the game designers decided you have to shovel horse crap first.  The first hour is a huge slog through tedious dialogue, monotonous fetch-quests, and a lack of direction to let you go to the parts of the game that are actually fun.  And even once you have a sword and can start killing slimes, you're on your own for a while and have to get to the second town (with a boss fight in the way) before you can actually build a party.  Oh, but you only have the starting classes to choose from.  You're gonna have to play even longer before you unlock any of the fun classes!  Oh, and when you change classes you start all the way back up to level 1 and have to grind your way back to a respectable level before you can continue.  Add in a battle system that takes forever just for a character to walk up and hit something, and dialogue so childishly written that I'm embarassed to even play it, and it wasn't long before I decided this game was a waste of my 35 dollars. 
 
However, now Atlus has released their own turn-based, class-based, dungeon crawler of a grindfest with no story, Etrian Odyssey III.  The two games aren't copies of each other, but they share a lot in common, and differ in a few key areas.  For instance, Atlus actually knows what players want, and don't waste our time with pointless dialogue and walking from Point A to B to advance the plot.  You turn the game on, hit New Game, and you're right at the character creation screen.  There's a ton of classes to pick from, but I found that a healthy setup of Tank/Mage/Healer/Warrior/Utility works quite well.  Until I discovered that the Farmer is useless in battle, but it only took me a level to figure that out and swap him for a Ninja instead.  (why did I pick Farmer over Ninja in the first place?  Oh well, who cares)  Once your team is set up, you're given your first mission: go in the dungeon and scout the place out.  Once you've mapped out the first floor (which is much pickier than I would like), the game pretty much says "Alright, go do whatever now!"  While there really isn't that much to do, you're allowed to venture deeper in the dungeon, pursue some sidequests, go sailing in your ship so you can explore faraway lands, and frankly just goof off. 
 
The much quicker pace at which things get going isn't the only advantage EOIII has over DQIX.  You level up at the same rate in both games (slowly), and both games give you skill points to allow you to customize your character classes.  Problem is, Dragon Quest makes you level up 3 or 4 times in order to gain a new skill or ability, and you really only have the option between upgrading your current weapon choice or a linear class progression.  It feels like classes are only capable of one thing and don't feel very versatile, so you wind up just dumping all your points in the same stat just to get the next skill, which won't matter considering you just mash Attack over and over again.  It's true that EOIII also loves making you mash the attack button, but the random encounters are difficult enough to necessitate the use of your secondary skills.  This is where the game truly shines, because at each level you can make a significant choice that affects your characters.  Should I build my Prince to passively heal my party, or work on his buffing skills?  Should my ninja incapacitate the enemy, or draw attention away from the party?  The possibilities are extremely open-ended, and I haven't even reached the part of the game that assigns a sub-class to your party members, expanding the game even further.  Most classes are unlocked at the start, so I can play around in the early game to figure out what I really want my team to be, unlike Dragon Quest which even encourages change your characters' classes and grinding their skills up from Level 1.  "Grinding so you'll be able to grind" doesn't sound like good game design to me. 
 
I'm rapidly losing interest in Square-Enix as a developer, but Atlus just seems to produce quality game after quality game.  Dragon Quest's design seems so stuck in the SNES days when progression was slow and translations were boring, but it hasn't realized that gaming has changed in the last couple of decades.  Atlus changes up each game with every new installment, and knows exactly what its players expect: to have fun.

 This blog post contains spoilers for Metroid: Other M, and the Metroid series in general.  Do not read if you do not want to be spoiled.
 
In 2002, Retro Studios released Metroid Prime, the first 3D Metroid game, for the Gamecube.  Metroid Prime was a huge revolution; the Texas-based developer proved they knew how to make games, successfully turning a popular 2D game into an immersive 3D environment, all from a first-person perspective.  Metroid Prime remains one of my favorite games of all time, due to it being the first game to make me feel as though I was part of a living, breathing environment in a game.  Additionally, I have a soft spot for Metroid Prime 3; in my opinion, MP3 utilizes the Wii's motion controls better than any other game on the platform. 
 
However, let's go back to 2001, and pretend that Metroid Prime never happened.  Instead, give us Metroid: Other M.  The entire time I played through the game, it felt less like "another entry in the series", and more like a complete reinterpretation of how Metroid could be played in 3D.  In some aspects, Other M feels like a 3D remake of Super Metroid, which isn't that surprising.  After all, the game takes place immediately after Super Metroid, and Samus retains all the abilities she had at the end of that game.  While Retro Studios took a look at the Metroid series and tinkered with the mechanics until it worked from a first-person perspective, Team Ninja set out to keep all of Super Metroid's game mechanics intact in a 3D environment.  If you keep that in mind, it could explain parts of the game's unusual control system; holding up on the D-Pad to activate the Speed Booster is probably a lot easier than trying to keep steady using a joystick.  Hell, if the basic Wii Remote had more buttons, it's entirely possible Team Ninja would have scrapped the first-person missile sections all together. 
 
The more you look at Other M, the more it becomes clear that Team Ninja wanted nothing to do with the Metroid Prime series.  There are countless nods to the 2D games (Metroid: Zero Mission, Metroid II, Super Metroid, Metroid Fusion), but not a single game mechanic or lore from Metroid Prime remains.  Several bosses are ones Samus has fought before, only in 3 dimensions now.  The "scan" function from Prime is gone, and now Samus only scans when it's plot-relevant.  However, the biggest departure is in Samus's personality.  Samus barely says anything in Zero Mission, II, and Super Metroid; though she's rather talkative in Fusion (though that's only to an AI computer).  Fusion was released alongside Prime, so I'm not sure that makes a difference concerning Prime's development, but this is where it gets interesting.  Older games in general did not tell the stories that games tell today; Samus didn't talk because she had no reason to.  Is it because she's just a calm soldier who doesn't let her emotions get in the way, or would she be much more willing to open up if there was someone to talk to? 
 
In the Metroid Prime series, Samus is merely silent.  She had no reason to talk in Metroid Prime, but she encounters an entire race who needs her help in Metroid Prime 2, and is working alongside countless soldiers in Metroid Prime 3.  In both games, she doesn't say a word.  After the events of MP2 have concluded, Samus departs with a wave of her hand to say "See ya."  To her, saving the universe is just another day's work.  In the intro to MP3, Samus is nearly a celebrity; she's well-known for her adventures across the galaxy, but Samus isn't one to brag; she just follows orders.  Even after falling down a long shaft struggling with her nemesis Ridley, Samus isn't shaken at all; she's fought Ridley plenty of times, and isn't particularly surprised that he's there.  At the end, Samus does reflect on her adventures a bit, having killed three of her corrupted friends; it's really the only time we see her display emotion since she's wearing her helmet all the time, but after three hard adventures, it's understandable.  Samus is just that much of a badass. 
 
But Team Ninja saw that personality for Samus, and thought it really didn't suit her.  The baby Metroid who sacrificed itself for her at the end of Super Metroid weighs on her soul, and it's the only time that Samus has felt like a mother.  Those lingering feelings carry over into Other M, where Samus is self-doubting, and still shaken over what's happened.  Being reunited with her old mentor, Samus feels like she has to show responsibility, and prove that she's still capable of following orders.  This huge personality shift has left many gamers feeling bitter over Other M; it's a direct contradiction of the personality Samus displays in the Prime games, and especially comes to a halt when Ridley shows up.  Canonically, this is the fifth time Samus has fought Ridley, yet when he appears, Samus breaks down, feeling scared and lonely, screaming when he grabs her.  She still disposes of him in the usual manner (missiles), but that scene was a huge shock to many gamers.  Why would Samus feel so afraid of a foe she's dispatched so many times?  Well, once again, if you ignore Metroid Prime, this is only her third time fighting him.  His abduction of the baby Metroid in SM shows that he has his own agenda, while in Metroid Prime he gives the impression that he has something to prove; he has cybernetic implants to improve his capabilities, seemingly all to show that he's capable of taking down Samus.  In Prime, Samus and Ridley are arch-enemies, while in Other M, it's more the idea that their paths often tangle, so it's possible Ridley was just as confused about Samus being there as she was about him.  Just speculation.
 
Ultimately, Other M is less of a sequel to the franchise, and more of a reinterpretation of the game mechanics and the characters.  It's not a completely successful experiment (it features some bafflingly bad design features, such as the forced perspective pixel-hunting, and occasionally misleading directions), but it's an interesting game from a narrative point of view.  You can argue all you want over whether the story is any good, or if Samus needs a better voice actor, or whether it would have controlled better with a joystick, but despite all of those flaws, I feel the game is at least worth experiencing.

After reading through the Scott Pilgrim comic book series and seeing the great movie, I had to play the Scott Pilgrim video game just to complete my indulgence.  I already knew from previews that this wasn't going to just be another movie cash-in, and after playing it a while, I can safely say that it's amusing and creative, and has an excellent soundtrack.  The pixelized character art and unique sense of humor make it a joy to experience. 
 
To -play-, however, is another thing.  I'm very much aware that Scott Pilgrim is a faithful homage to River City Ransom, but my first impressions of the game were "Okay, how is this any different from every other beat-'em-up released in the past few years?"  You steadily walk to the right, beating up foes, gaining money and experience points that get you new abilities and items and...*yawn*.  In the end, all that's setting the game apart is its setting, which is really strong, don't get me wrong, but there are so many fundamental problems with the genre that very quickly turn me off.  I'm only halfway through the game, but I'm already required to grind my ass off in order to progress, which pretty much kills the fun.  It's the same repetition that caused me to give up on Castle Crashers, another XBLA beat-'em-up that's very similar to Scott Pilgrim. 
 
My main problem with these beat-'em-ups is that they reward persistence, rather than strategy or skill.  In a large crowd of enemies, it's difficult to defend yourself.  Most of the abilities you acquire require you to button mash even more, not less, as trying to pull them off as part of a combo is annoying, and it's more effective to just hammer the punch button until everything is dead.  Thanks to the art style, it can also be difficult to tell whether you're actually next to an enemy or on a different plane, so precision moves are left in the dust as the more reliable punches and kicks continue to take precedence.  The block button's nearly useless, and trying to pick up a baseball bat to defend myself is difficult in a large crowd of enemies, considering you have to be pixel-perfect before the game figures out you're trying to find some strategy.  Add to this an annoyingly sluggish Scott, and the basic gameplay is an exercise in tedium. 
 
Of course, the "classic" style beat-'em-up is so etched in our minds that it's hard to imagine what the more modern versions of the genre are.  To be completely honest, they're everywhere.  Batman: Arkham Asylum fits it perfectly.  God of War.  No More Heroes.  Even Kingdom Hearts is a damn Beat-'Em-Up.  You really wouldn't think it looking at them, but don't all of those games require you to run into a bunch of enemies and rapidly mash "attack" until everything around you is dead?  The fighting is a core part of their gameplay, just as it is in Scott Pilgrim or Castle Crashers.  But those games also realize that fighting tons of enemies can't hold the game up on its own.  Batman has stealth elements and a Metroid-esque maze, God of War has plenty of platforming and puzzle solving, Kingdom Hearts has the whole "RPG" aspect down with its character development and boss fights, and No More Heroes...is probably the weakest of the games I just listed.  Not coincidentally, it's also the closest thing to the classic beat-'em-up formula.  Even the core game mechanics offer a level of depth that Scott Pilgrim can't compete with.  Batman throws tons of enemies at you, but it also lets you know when an enemy's about to attack so you can counter, and gives you warning when an enemy picks up a weapon to throw at you.  All of these elements communicate to the player the information he needs to get through the fight.  Comparatively, Scott Pilgrim's battles may as well be obscured by a cartoon dust cloud. 
 
Don't get me wrong; Scott Pilgrim's not a bad game.  At 10 dollars, I don't feel ripped off, and it's certainly got plenty of charm in its art and music.  The problem is that it doesn't want to evolve; it's an homage to old-school gaming, and with it, takes all of the flaws with it as well (I might as well mention Dragon Quest IX here, which also has issues growing up).  As a game to blow off steam, it works well, though the necessity to grind in order to finish the game doesn't help its case.  As a comic book adaptation, it works pretty well, and I really can't see any other ways the series could be adapted to a video game format.  Just remember that "retro" is not synonymous with "quality".

I've now completed Limbo over the span of two evenings, and I can safely say that Limbo's one of the best games released this year.  Go buy it now. 
 
Beaten it?  Good.  It's easy to say that Limbo is creative, atmospheric, clever, funny (in a rather morbid way), but it also struck me in a way that most games don't: it's actually scary.  Even playing it in a room full of people I felt on the edge of my seat, scared that at any second a monster or obstacle would come out of nowhere and kill me (which they often did).  A tricky platforming section was massively unnerving, making me wonder if I would be able to complete it, and the gruesome ways the main character can die only add to the intensity, which can not only be entertaining for some, but a way of punishing those with weaker stomaches.  Sadly, the death animations are undermined somewhat later in the game, when trial & error is the only way to figure out a solution to some puzzles.  Yet the game retains its dark side and intensity despite constant auto-saves that drop you nearly where you left off. 
 
So why does Limbo succeed where so many other "horror" games have failed lately?  Resident Evil 5 had some gruesome monsters, but the game itself was never scary; the inventory restrictions were more of an annoyance than a frantic "take what you need only" mindset.  The cutscenes were laughable, and a lot of enemies were just ridiculous.  Everyone agrees that Resident Evil 4's scares were much better, considering the constant feeling of being overwhelmed, and a particular favorite of mine doing nothing but making creepy sounds the whole time.  You know he's there, but you have no idea when and where he'll attack; that feeling of helplessness is what makes horror games shine. 
 
Still, "horror" and "scary" can still be entirely different.  If you remember, Doom 3 was praised as being scary, but it was a very artificial scare; monsters would hide and pop out at you and ambush you, and after the player's initial jump, a bit of fridge logic sets in: why were those mindless monsters hiding there in the first place?  It's the equivalent of your friend popping out from behind a door yelling "ooga booga booga".  A good horror game will screw with the heads of players, such as Eternal Darkness for the Gamecube.  As you play, you'll notice that on occasion, something in the room just doesn't seem right, and the realization sets in that you're playing a fabrication only draws you in further.  Though, that game made the mistake of letting you see your sanity meter, thus giving you advance warning of when things are going wrong. 
 
It's a bit coincidental that this week's "Extra Credits" on The Escapist also talks about horror games.  One point he mentioned stood out, and it's about a game I've mentioned several times in this blog without actually going into it - Demon's Souls.  Demon's Souls can be considered horror in a very peculiar way; due to the way the game is set up, death is a huge punishment, costing you a great deal of playtime, as well as hitting your inventory.  As a result, when you play Demon's Souls, you're extremely cautious.  You take a peek around every corner to make sure nobody's going to ambush you.  Each new enemy is treated as if it's an elite soldier, and must be carefully studied before it is engaged.  And of course, sometimes the game requires you to take a leap of faith in order to progress, as the player bites his lower lip in anticipation of failure.  It's a kind of tension you don't see in games much these days (although Demon's Souls could go a bit easier on the player at times...). 
 
A good horror game can be especially unnerving and moving, and much more memorable than most run-of-the-mill action games.  Unfortunately, it's difficult to pull off right, which is why we don't see much of the genre.  Still, if a very simple XBLA download can get me on the edge of my seat, there's no way the genre can be dead.  Or, undead.