Happy independence weekend to American and Canadian readers! While the Yankees are enjoying their day off today, us Canucks are just coming off a three day weekend of our own. I myself took advantage of the time to escape the city for some rest, relaxation, and quality time with the ever reliable Vita. On a lark I fired up God of War: Ghost of Sparta, the 2010 PSP franchise entry that recently was featured as a Playstation Plus title. Although I originally intended on only messing around with the game out of curiosity, I quickly became engrossed and plowed through the story in two sittings. At that point I was craving even more Ancient Greek debauchery and proceeded to play through Chains of Olympus, the other PSP God of War game. As a lapsed fan of the franchise since the third entry, I was quite surprised that the series could still sink its chain blades into me. It got me thinking about what makes God of War so compelling, and what lesson the upcoming sequel can learn from its predecessors. So, without further ado, here are some scattered thoughts on Kratos’s portable adventures and the series in general.

Size (and Scale) Doesn’t Matter All that Much

One thing that I had always taken as a given with the God of War series was that bigger is better. From slaying the Hydra in the first game to fighting atop the massive Titan Gaia in the third, the series seemed to shine brightest when the enemies and levels dwarfed Kratos. But given the small form factor and limited horsepower of the PSP, the scale of its games was necessarily limited. However, they remained compelling even with this constraint, as Ready at Dawn was able to deliver some fun and creative set pieces using the series’s proven combat and platforming systems. For example, the final boss battle in Ghost of Sparta involves Kratos and his brother, Deimos, fighting against Thanatos, the god of death. The fight requires that the two brothers work together, with Kratos calling on Deimos to stun Thanatos with a spear. The gameplay here helps to reinforce the story’s theme of the estranged brothers coming to terms with the circumstances that forced them apart, and it makes for a very satisfying climax despite being narrow in its focus. It’s striking how much this battle shares similarities with the new game’s central conceit, namely Kratos and his son working together to defeat enemies. It speaks to the narrative potential of a smaller scale game focused on cooperative combat between characters that still feels true to the series.

Certain Gameplay Artifacts Feel Dated and Need to Go

The first God of War debuted in 2005, and it’s surprising how little its structure has evolved in the intervening years. Each entry still has such silly gameplay contrivances as glowing orbs to collect, conveniently placed chests, out-of-place save points, and annoying quick time events. If the series was more self aware these elements would be more easily forgiven, but given the cinematic nature of God of War they feel dated and out of place. Judging by its demo, Sony Santa Monica seems to understand this with the new game and has gotten rid of elements that would take away from its polished presentation.

Other Gameplay Mechanics are Great and Should Stay

No franchise survives for over a decade without having a core formula that remains compelling, and God of War is no exception. The combination of combat, exploration, and light puzzle solving is still a lot of fun and the new game should embrace these elements. There’s also no denying the satisfying brutality of carving up enemies with the iconic blades of chaos, and having Kratos turn them in for some sort of magical ice ax has me nervous about the pacing of combat. I understand evolving with the times, but I’d rather not have God of War turn into yet another high animation priority action game in the vein of Dark Souls. Mashing on the square button isn’t strategic or difficult, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t satisfying to see Kratos become a whirlwind of death in every fight. Go ahead and add some nuance, sure, but if we can’t let loose then we aren’t really playing God of War.

Some Rage is Good, a Lot of Rage is Not

Look, Kratos isn’t known for his layers of personality. He’s just a big angry dude from a time when most video game protagonists were some form of big angry dude. But even while I enjoyed the stories of the PSP games for what they were, it got tiring to see Kratos respond to every situation with rage. It’s predictable and altogether not that interesting. As such, I can’t help but applaud the developers for making this new Kratos a man seeking to become more than the anger that has consumed him for so long. He still snaps at his son, and there seems to be a combat mechanic that allows him to channel a so-called “Spartan Rage”, but it’s clear that he’s trying to be a better man/demigod. We shall see if the full game follows this narrative path, but so far the game has started on the right foot.

Game Length is Key

One thing that the console God of War games all seem to share is the sense of fatigue during their back halves. Frankly, those games’ mechanics simply don’t have enough depth to sustain 10+ hours of gameplay. The PSP games, on the other hand, manage to feel fresh throughout their 5 hour campaigns using essentially the same mechanics. Of course, since Chains of Olympus and Ghost of Sparta are portable games with smaller budgets, the shorter length is acceptable. Home console releases, however, are subjected to higher standards and I doubt that the new God of War would be able to get away with such a short length without being roundly criticized. As such, Sony Santa Monica needs to ensure that there is enough gameplay variety to sustain interest throughout the entirety of a lengthy campaign. Luckily, the demo seems to indicate that there will be gameplay systems like hunting and exploration to compliment the combat, so there’s hope that the new game will avoid the repetitive feeling back halves of its predecessors.

Final Thoughts

I can now say that I’m excited for a new God of War, which is a dramatic turnaround from my indifference to the series only a few days ago. Both Chains of Olympus and Ghost of Sparta show that a more focused God of War can still be satisfying and true to the spirit of the franchise. Regardless of scale, there’s something compelling about going toe-to-toe with mythological beasts, and it seems like the new game embraces this philosophy while also moving the series in a new and exciting direction. There’s still life in God of War’s weary bones, and I’m more than happy to see what it does in the Scandinavian wilderness.

Consider this a spoiler warning. If you haven’t already played Firewatch, I give it my recommendation and suggest knowing as little about it as possible when you start.

There’s a moment about halfway through Firewatch where the game clicked for me. I was sitting in my tower one night, watching a controlled blaze off in the distance, and chatting away with my only companion in the wilderness, Delilah. Only, Delilah’s not there, she’s talking to me through a radio from her own distant fire tower watching that same inferno. She and I have gotten close as the summer dragged on, chatting away about anything we saw, be it significant or otherwise. I’ve grown fond of her. We even make plans to finally meet in person once the summer is over and maybe share a drink or two. And then she casually mentions that every fire is given a name by the firewatchers, and suggests that I do the honors for this one. For a brief moment I consider naming the fire “Delilah”. It’s a gorgeous summer night, with the sky full of stars, and a fire that made it feel like Delilah and I were nestled together at a campsite. Naming the fire after her would have felt right. Sweet, but not saccharine. But then I notice the wedding ring on my finger.

Firewatch puts players in the role of Henry, a man who has come out to the Wyoming wilderness to escape his problems. His wife of many years, Julia, has been suffering from early onset Alzheimer’s. As they are a couple in their late 30s/early 40s, this was an unexpected development that put tremendous strain on their relationship. Things come to a head when Henry is arrested for drunk driving during one of his many late night coping visits to the local bar. Julia’s family whisks her away, feeling that Henry cannot take care of her on his own. But rather than follow and be by his wife’s side, he takes a job as a firewatcher in Shoshone National Forest, far away from anyone.

So, on that beautiful night, secluded away in the majesty that is nature, I had a decision to make. Do I embrace the moment, acknowledging how wonderful it is to spend the summer with Delilah, or do I steadfastly stay true to my wife? The guilt gets to me and I name the fire “Flapjack” after an inside joke that Delilah and I share. It’s friendly and funny, but signals no romantic interest. Crisis averted.

Beneath the gorgeous Olly Moss directed setting and the ultimately underwhelming conspiracy subplot, Firewatch is about a man working through his guilt. Like many of us, he took his vows, promising to be always be there for the person he loved so dearly. And now, he reflects back on his decisions and the impossible scenario he was put in. It’s easy to dismiss Henry as a coward for what he did. What kind of man abandons his partner? How can he be so selfish? But dementia forces us to answer questions we’d rather not confront. It’s a disease that robs people of themselves, of their essence. It’s simpler to think about caring for a spouse who is dying of something like cancer. It’s not easy, but for the most part that person you love is still there with their mind intact throughout. You both are in it together. But with the late stages of dementia, that person is essentially gone. I’d imagine for most long term partners this is a nightmare scenario that they hope will not befall them. But for Henry and Julia, it’s happened, and at a fairly young age to boot. It’s an absolutely hellish fate.

Firewatch’s most brilliant decision was to give the player control only after Henry has made his fateful choice. It firmly establishes that he is a distinct person rather than a simple player avatar. Despite the first person view, stoic Master Chief he is not, and Henry is never shy to assert his opinions. One of the unstated rules in games is that first person is used for player avatars (i.e. Skyrim, Call of Duty, Gone Home) and third person is used for characters (i.e. The Witcher, Max Payne, Mario). This isn’t a hard-and-fast rule, as you can occasionally have chatty first person protagonists. However, they tend not to be as well drawn out as Henry. A good example of this is the fact that Henry is white. Admittedly, as a person of color I tend to notice race in games a fair bit, but for the most part I gloss over the ethnicity of characters. Sure, Gordon Freeman is a white dude on the box cover, but in-game I never see his face and his body is covered in a hazmat suit. It’s easy for me to just picture myself as that character. Alternatively, Lara Croft is white, but she’s her own sketched out character and presented in a third person perspective, so there’s some distance between me and her. But Henry is presented in a first person view, is clearly white from simply looking down, and Delilah even makes a comment on how white he is. To be clear, his race itself doesn’t matter, but what does matter is Campo Santo has crafted him to be a very specific person with his own needs and desires. By doing so, the line between me as the player and Henry as the protagonist becomes wonderfully complex.

As I reflect on that night with Delilah, and how I struggled to decide on a name for the fire, I can’t help but second guess myself. Was my decision to name the fire Flapjack the same one that Henry would have made? When I saw his wedding ring, was I really just looking at my own? Should I even be considering Henry’s wants in this situation, or should I play the angel of his better nature, reminding him of his commitments? The game passes no judgement either way, and it doesn’t seem like the choices made have much effect on the plot. Instead, Firewatch simply gave me a breathtaking view to sit and think. I can’t imagine a better way to spend a summer.

Ah, the post-E3 summer bliss. That special time of year where compelling new releases are few and that pile of unplayed games starts to look enticing. Thanks to a perfect storm of my 30th birthday and sales on PSN, Xbox Live, and Steam, I have irresponsibly grown my backlog to a shameful level. Facing such a large amount of games to play I decided to take a step back to organize the chaos that is my library. As such I made a list of games that I intend to play in the near future. This forced me to ask some tough questions and make difficult cuts along the way. Do I really need to play Ryse: Son of Rome? Has the boat already passed on me getting into Helldivers? In the end I was able to pare the list down to a manageable level (times taken from How Long to Beat):

• 

  Firewatch (4 hours)

• Dark Souls: Prepare to Die Edition (50 hours)

• Ratchet & Clank (10 hours)

• Invisible Inc.(7 hours)

• The Talos Principle (16 hours)

• Oxenfree (4 hours)

• Twilight Struggle (N/A)

• Alice: Madness Returns (13.5 hours)

• Valkyria Chronicles (31.5 hours)

I don’t expect to fully complete some of these games, and I’m weary of Dark Souls in particular. Seeing it from afar, that style of punishing gameplay doesn’t seem that appealing. But given the effusive praise for the series I felt that I should at least give it a shot. I also don’t expect to finish most of these in the immediate future as some of my gaming time has been taken up by rounds of the ever-wonderful Overwatch. So far, so good. I have a manageable list, reasonable expectations, and a genuine desire to at least try all the games on the list. All's well in Navster’s gaming world.

Then I go and cock it up. I start thinking, “Y’know, this is the summer I knock off some Important games I’ve missed over the years. This is the year I uncover my gaming blindspots!” And so my gaming list grows to include these so-called classics that I’ve managed to never play:

• 

  Super Metroid (7.5 hours)

• Final Fantasy IX (42.5 hours)

• The Legend of Zelda (9 hours)

• Castlevania: Symphony of the Night (8.5 hours)

• Day of the Tentacle (6.5 hours)

• Okami (37 hours)

• System Shock 2 (13 hours)

Suddenly my breezy summer list is starting to look like homework. The games listed are all almost certainly worth playing, and I feel that my understanding of games as a medium would be enriched by playing them, but man do those hour counts add up. What previously would have been 136 hours of new or interesting titles now must include a 111 hour history lesson!

The reasonable and sane answer to my predicament would be to jettison those older games and only focus on the games I really want to play. Or even make a concession and reserve a smaller game like Super Metroid or Day of the Tentacle as my “Saturday with nothing else to do” go-to. But that’s not how my stupid mind works. I need to somehow get these games scratched off my wall of shame. Do I really understand Metroid only having played Prime and Fusion? Am I a console scrub for never having played Day of the Tentacle? Or can I definitively say Final Fantasy XII is my favorite if I haven’t played the oft-forgotten Playstation classic? All dumb questions, yet they fuel my gaming anxiety.

As I’m getting close to a year of maintaining this blog, I’ve become acutely aware of a growing imposter syndrome. Who am I to write about games, especially when there are a ton of established writers with a far greater knowledge of the gaming canon? Can I provide incisive and original commentary that people actually want to read? As I created my list I began to see this anxiety creep into my game selection. I mean, who am I to criticize the newest Zelda game when I have never touched the NES original?

Anyway, this was a bit of a meandering post, and I thank anyone who has stuck with it to now. I haven’t come up with a way yet to just let go of this anxiety, and I suspect that I’ll be charging at my list for the next several months as some sort of dorky Don Quixote. Who knows, maybe I manage to make a dent in it in time for the autumn games rush. In the meantime I suspect that I’ll have plenty to write about. Have any suggestions on games to tackle first? Thoughts on backlog anxiety or gaming shame? Let me know in the comments.

Despite recent advances in our culture to discuss and normalize it, mental disorders remain stigmatized and marginalized in large parts of society. Those struggling with mental health issues often find it difficult to come forward and admit that they need help, or even acknowledging to themselves that something is amiss. Given recent events in the news as well as some personal developments, I’ve taken an interest in learning more about mental health, the effects of mental disorders, and what can be done to improve our collective understanding and response to these issues. As part of my learning I finally fired up a game that’s been sitting in my Steam library for what feels like years; the much debated Twine darling, Depression Quest.

The game, developed by a three person team consisting of Zoë Quinn, Patrick Lindsey, and Isaac Schankler, is a work of interactive fiction that places the player in the role of someone who is suffering from depression. Depression Quest uses a minimalist, web browser-like interface that is almost entirely text based. There are no animations nor environments to explore. The only things accompanying the prose are some music to set the tone and nonspecific pictures. The game establishes an earnest mood with the opening screen stating the developers’ intent:

The goal of this game is twofold: firstly, we want to illustrate as clearly as possible what depression is like, so that it may be better understood by people without depression. Hopefully this can be something to spread awareness and fight against the social stigma and misunderstandings that depression sufferers face. Secondly, our hope is that in presenting as real a simulation of depression as possible, other sufferers will come to know that they aren't alone, and hopefully derive some measure of comfort from that.

It’s certainly a noble goal, and one that admittedly got me liking the game from the start. The game also makes it clear that since everyone’s experience with life and depression are different, it only attempts to provide a sample representation of the disorder. That being said, I enjoyed how broadly the game was written. The game makes a few assumptions of the player character, namely that they aren’t a straight female, likely middle class, in their 20s, and lives in a first world country. But aside from that, details are left sparse to ensure relatability. The prose itself is incredibly well-written, focusing mainly on the character’s mind-state. Further to that, the character’s interactions with their closest friends and family provided just enough to endear them to me without them feeling overly detailed. The combination of these elements allowed to reflect on my own connections with others. For instance, the interactions with the player’s brother, Malcolm, had me thinking the relationship I have with my own sibling, and while my circumstances don’t exactly match up with the game, the relationship felt authentic to my experiences. I was especially taken aback by a powerful scene later on in the story that simply ended with Malcolm saying "Hey, just so you know... I'm really proud of you." I’ll not spoil the context, but suffice it to say that it brought about some powerful emotions in me.

The actual gameplay is a fairly small but significant part of the experience. The player is given choices throughout the story, such as whether to go out to a party or stay in or to open up to friends about their condition, that alter the game’s events. However, like most decision based games, the overarching narrative changes little over multiple playthroughs. This does not feel like a limitation but rather an accurate representation of real life. More often than not, the choices we make only affect us and possibly those closest to us, but the greater world marches on. To reflect this, the decisions made have a significant effect on what options the player is left with later on, even if major events don't change all that much. Depression Quest uses a brilliant mechanic of crossing out possible options based on the character’s mental state. You can still see these crossed out options, but cannot pick them. For instance, refusing to seek help early on pushes the character further into their depression which in turn limits options to save certain relationships or get help at later points. I absolutely adored this mechanic, as it accurately captured that feeling of wanting to say or do something but can’t, be it due to fear, apathy, or any number of other motivations. This was the aspect of the game I found most interesting and I hope more dialog driven games incorporate the mechanic.

I admittedly can’t fully discuss Depression Quest without acknowledging the elephant in the room; is it even a game? The controversy surrounding the game and it’s creators is well documented and I need not recount them here, but I do feel that discussing Depression Quest’s place in the greater video game canon is important. I’ve obviously been referring to it as a game for the entirety of this post so you can probably figure out my stance on the matter, but why exactly does it deserve a spot in the Steam store? I contend that anything that provides some amount of interactivity that alters the work’s state can be considered a game, and anything that does that in an electronic or video medium gets the title of video game. It’s certainly a very broad definition, but I’d rather err on the side of inclusion than risk losing worthwhile experiences such as this. Forget the serious and important nature of Depression Quest’s subject matter. Do we really want to exclude such goofy experiences as Contradiction: Spot the Liar! or Night Trap? Would Depression Quest having a budget to make environments to explore and enable voiced characters really make it any more of a game? It’s works such as these that make our beloved medium so vital and necessary.

Depression Quest is free to play (with options to donate) and takes less than an hour to complete. I believe there is something that almost everyone can take away from the experience, regardless of mental health state. The experience of inhabiting someone struggling with depression proved to be far more powerful than any reading I had done or any video I had watched. The game is a fantastic example of using video games to spread empathy, and it provides a path forward for games to educate us and make the world a better place. For that alone I give Depression Quest a hearty recommendation.

As anyone who has watched a teen slasher flick can attest, the most common trope in that subgenre is the idiocy of the main characters. From running upstairs to get away from a killer to splitting up in the face of danger, the well-worn joke is that these coeds are simply too dumb to live. But what if the viewer got to be in control of these characters? Would they make different decisions based on the circumstances? Supermassive Games’s Until Dawn attempts to answer that question, and in doing so crafts an adventure that does some wonderful things with interactive fiction.

The setup for the game involves eight teens arriving at a lodge located high up in the mountains of Alberta. It has been one year since a prank at the very same lodge left two of their friends dead, and our main characters wish to honor their memory with a night of debauchery. The snowy vistas and isolated feel of the locale provide a pitch-perfect setup for when the horror begins, and the setting is augmented further by how good the game looks. Supermassive is clearly putting the Playstation 4 to work here, with incredible particle effects and stunning mountain views making the most out of the hardware. The characters themselves fall neatly into the uncanny valley, but as the story progresses I found myself noticing it less and less. The developers were smart to cast known actors, such as Brett Dalton, Rami Malek, and Hayden Panettiere, as their strong performances became a huge reason why the game worked so well despite a shaky script.

As the title hints, the overarching goal of Until Dawn is to ensure that all characters survive to daybreak. Throughout the night you are given control of each character at various points in the story, with control shifting even within scenes. The constant changing of perspectives proved to be the thing that most endeared me to the game, as I delighted in the challenge of role-playing each person’s priorities. This was especially evident early on when the extent of danger has not been fully revealed, and the characters could be their self-absorbed teenaged selves. As an example, I tried to ensure Matt stuck up for his girlfriend, Emily, against romantic rival Jessica even if I personally found Emily off-putting. Alternatively, I could have chosen to side with Jessica or attempt to defuse the situation, and those options may have carried different consequences down the line. These choices and their effects are tracked in the game’s menus, which display each character’s personality traits and relationships with various meters. These meters can go up or down based on in-game actions and can alter how the characters react to situations or interact with one another. In addition, Until Dawn keeps track of major decisions through a butterfly effect menu that draws clear lines between cause and effect. As it is very difficult to know ahead of time what choices lead to what outcomes, this menu becomes vital for encouraging additional playthroughs in order to get different endings.

The gameplay of Until Dawn consists mainly of navigating players through environments as they search for clues, and is punctuated by conversations and quick time event driven actions scenes. The game’s structure is clearly inspired by the work of Telltale Games and Quantic Dream, with emphasis on the latter. Indeed, the game Until Dawn most mimics is Heavy Rain. Similar to that game, players take on multiple roles to solve the mystery while also ensuring that all characters survive the story. But unlike David Cage’s Playstation 3-era breakthrough, the choices and interactions between characters in Until Dawn feels more immediate and vital to ensuring success. While Heavy Rain’s characters acted more or less independently, Until Dawn’s cast must work together to survive. An early death of one member of the group could lead to a scenario where another member does not get the help they need to survive. Of course, Until Dawn also has the benefit of Peter Stormare’s unhinged performance as a psychologist during interstitial segments to elevate the experience.

I found Until Dawn to be a fantastic experience that I can unreservedly recommend to anyone. While the game’s cheesy script and story-driven nature lends itself to internet Let’s Plays (including a great series from our very own Giant Bomb East), I still found playing the game and personally owning my choices to be a fun and engaging experience. It wouldn’t surprise me if in a few years that the game becomes a hidden gem in the Playstation 4’s library, but I hope that it is successful enough to warrant a sequel or spiritual successor. Supermassive has hit upon a winning formula here, one that pleasantly surprised me, and I’d be delighted to play whatever they have planned next. In the meantime, I fully expect to trek up the mountain again and try to keep all those idiots alive.

Hey you guys. I’m not too sure you’ve heard, but that there Blizzard shooter is pretty awesome. Like the rest of the gaming internet, I’ve been playing a bunch of Overwatch and enjoying the hell out of it. From the distinctive character designs to the tight moment-to-moment action, the game is something special. But while I can now say that I’m a convert, I wasn’t too impressed by Overwatch prior to release. My limited time with the beta had me writing it off as just another entrant in the crowded shooter market. The game felt like a bigger and better successor to Team Fortress 2, which I’ve played on and off for nearly a decade. With Valve’s seminal game tucked away in my Steam library, what need did I have for yet another class-based team shooter?

Turns out, I had plenty of need for Overwatch. After reading unending great press about the game, I took the plunge and picked up the PC version this past weekend. Now I’m fully hooked and stealing any time I have available to go another round. So what made me turn the corner? It’s certainly not because of the modes and amount of content, which currently strains the value proposition of a $40-60 (USD) purchase, nor is it because of some revolutionary gameplay feature. No, the reason that Overwatch is sticking with me so well is because it solves the zero-sum nature of multiplayer shooters.

From their very start, multiplayer shooters have been about competition. ‘90s shooters were very focused on deathmatch style gameplay with only occasional forays into objective modes. Games like Quake and Counterstrike dominated the scene, and with their rise came the statistic that is the kill-death ratio. That ratio, the number of kills you got divided by the number of deaths, would become the definitive statistic to determine how good of a player your were. Anything less than 1.0 meant you sucked, and anything higher than a 2.0 meant you were great. But logic would indicate that kill-death is inherently a zero-sum statistic. For every player that runs the table with opponents there needs to be another player (or several) that keeps dying over and over. And therein lies the problem. I’m sure most of us have been in a match where our final line tallied something like 0 kills and 20 deaths. Very few among us would have classified those matches as anything approaching fun. Frustrating? Infuriating? Demoralizing? Yes, yes, and hell yes. But enjoyable? Definitely not. Now what if you’re consistently posting kill-deaths of less than 0.5? How long would you realistically stick with a game knowing that the competition is going to dominate you in every match?

As someone who in the past loved playing multiplayer shooters and who has recently noticed his skills not keeping up with the competition, this zero-sum problem has become a growing issue for me. I certainly can’t keep up with the fast paced nature of Call of Duty and have pretty much checked out of that franchise. Halo’s forgiving shield mechanic has allowed me still compete, but my proficiency in Halo 5 has seen a marked drop when comparing my performance to previous games. Certainly, there are certain games that have made attempts to improve the experience of below average players. Titanfall was somewhat successful in this regard by having NPC combatants on the battlefield for me to mow down. But even in that case, taking down other players was seen as the real reward, and no amount of marine or AI titan kills could make up for not eliminating other pilots. Alternatively, Overwatch addresses the zero-sum problem by focusing on the periphery of the player’s experience.

There are a couple of small things that Overwatch does that allows everyone playing to walk away from a play session with a positive experience. First, it only offers team-based objective modes which require a diverse skillset to succeed in. In addition to needing offense-minded players to kill-or-be-killed, a successful team requires tanks to draw away enemy fire, support units to heal and buff allies, and players focused on area control. As such kill-death becomes simply one of many metrics that define “good” performance. In addition, the game selectively surfaces data that serve to encourage players. Maybe you died a lot, but check out how long you held the objective! Or perhaps you weren’t able to heal up your teammates much, but you absorbed a huge portion of the other team’s damage! The post-match voting also serves to highlight individual accomplishments and ease the pain of lopsided losses. Granted the game is not perfect, as evidenced by the “Play of the Game” being almost exclusively multi-kill replays from the game’s damage-dealers. But for the most part Blizzard seems to understand the underlying motivations that keep players logging onto its servers.

The reasonable rebuttal to what I just said is that Team Fortress 2 did a lot of the same things that Overwatch is being praised for. There’s no doubt that Overwatch owes a great debt to Valve’s class-based shooter. However, Overwatch makes smart improvements to its predecessor that improves the player experience. Rather than only focusing on the player’s performance compared to their previous records, Overwatch also spotlights performance in the current match. This provides better moment-to-moment encouragement for players which enables that elusive “one-more-round” compulsion. The biggest improvement, however, is Overwatch’s expanded roster of characters.

Like Team Fortress 2 before it, Overwatch is all about its characters. But unlike the former game’s limitation of 9 archetypes, Overwatch abounds with 21 different characters with room to grow the roster over time. This helps to provide Overwatch with a more nuanced gameplay texture that its predecessor could only hint at. For instance, Team Fortress 2 was lauded at the time of its release for the Medic class. The Medic was seen as an entryway to get your friends who didn’t like shooters to play a class that was almost entirely divorced from the act of killing. But at a certain point there’s only so much variety you can get with that single class. For players that didn’t necessarily want to worry about combat, there really weren’t any other options available. Not so with Overwatch, which gives you four separate options for Support characters. Each of these characters are distinct yet share the common theme of not being combat oriented. Similarly, the game provides multiple other options depending on your preferred playstyle. Enjoy sniping? You’ve got Hanzo and Widowmaker. Prefer to camp and hold points? You can be Bastion or Torbjörn. Add to that characters that reference playstyles from other shooters, such as the Call of Duty-esque Soldier 76 or the Titanfall-inspired D.Va, and there’s basically a class for everyone. Furthermore, because there are plenty of options for each type of character (Offense, Defense, Tank and Support), I found that players are far more willing to select a character that compliments their team. This solves the problem I regularly had in Team Fortress 2, where you end up on a team with 4 Snipers or Spies and lose by a landslide. Overwatch’s approach, on the other hand, seems to lead to a greater frequency of balanced and relatively close matches.

Like most multiplayer shooters, I fully expect Overwatch to change over time, bringing improvements to the gameplay or just shaking things up for variety’s sake. Therefore, it’s reasonable to expect that the game being played at launch will be substantially altered in the coming months and years. But Blizzard has built an incredibly solid foundation to expand upon and I suspect that I will be coming back to it for a good long while. Everything about Overwatch’s systems seems deliberately designed to maximize the enjoyment of all players. Zero-sum shooters will continue to exist, but I’m glad that there is now a legitimate alternative for the rest of us that don’t have the talent nor time to compete in those ruthless environments. See you guys on Battle.net.

Gwent, the collectible card game (CCG) nestled in every corner of The Witcher III: Wild Hunt, may very well be my favorite aspect of my favorite game of 2015. The deck building, collecting, and strategy of Gwent proved to be endlessly entertaining and I often found myself shirking witcher duties to play yet another match with the local innkeep. With the release of the Blood and Wine expansion and its introduction of new cards and faction, I was once again pulled into playing more of the irresistible card game. Gwent, how much do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

For those who haven’t played The Witcher III, or for those that have but couldn’t be bothered with yet another minigame, Gwent is a CCG akin to Magic: The Gathering or Hearthstone. The game is played by two players, each with their own customized deck. Players begin the game by each drawing ten cards from their deck and flipping a coin to see who goes first. The players then alternate taking turns by playing cards, activating abilities, or permanently passing their turn once they are satisfied with their board position. Most of the time players will play unit cards, which can be creatures, soldiers, or named heroes such as Geralt or Yennefer. Each unit card has a certain number of strength points, which are added up when both players choose to permanently pass their turn. The player with the higher strength total wins the round, and whichever player wins two out of three rounds takes the match. The most intriguing part of all this is that, unlike other CCGs, the game does not allow further draws after the match starts. What this means is that the initial draw of ten cards must last all three rounds of the match, barring additional abilities, and that opens up some intriguing strategic considerations. Should you over-commit on round one even if that limits your options for rounds two and three? Should you build your deck with weaker cards that allow you to draw more from your deck? It’s all very well considered for something that could have easily been dismissed as a niche minigame in an otherwise expansive world.

Speaking of the expansive world, one of the neat things about Gwent is how well integrated it is in the customs of the land. Geralt seems to be able to locate a fellow enthusiast no matter where he goes, be it in the brothels of Novigrad or the taverns of Toussaint, and there’s good coin to be made in wagering on games. Furthermore, almost every person Geralt defeats will provide him with another card for his ever-growing collection in a viscous cycle I like to call gottacatchemallism. It seemed odd at first that kings and barons would be obsessed with an ersatz Yu-Gi-Oh!, but eventually I began to buzz at the sight of a Gwent option in a dialog tree. Plus, those barons and kings offer much better cards than your average barfly, so I was more than willing to put aside urgent life or death matters for a match or two.

Gwent also takes on flavor from its world, with the five factions each representing a major power in the Continent’s geopolitical landscape. To build a deck, one must first choose which faction to play, be it the freedom fighting Northern Realms, the expansionist Nilfgaardian Empire, the reclusive elven Scoia’tael, the chaotic Monsters, or seafaring Skellige. I like the faction system in theory as it forces players to use different strategies. For instance, with the Northern Realms faction I was able to deploy spies and gain card advantage over my opponent, whereas with the Monsters faction I was able to overwhelm my opponents with plenty of unit cards. However, in practice the factions end up playing quite similar for two reasons. First, the game is dominated by hero cards that are not tied to any faction. These hero cards, which include characters like Ciri, are immensely powerful units that cannot be removed from the board or have their strength mitigated. As such, any successful deck includes a fair number of these hero cards regardless of faction. Second, the most important non-unit cards, such as Scorch or Decoy, are also factionless and so will be included in just about every deck. However, that’s not to say that the factions are completely irrelevant. Each faction comes with a set of leaders with unique abilities, such as the ability to destroy certain units or buff up units, that can tilt the game one way or another. In addition, the factions have innate abilities that activates regardless of chosen leader or deck composition. As examples, the Scoia’tael always go first to start the match and Monsters are able to keep a random unit on the board between rounds.

The murky differentiation of Gwent’s factions is probably it’s greatest weak point, and I can imagine that savvy players would be able to crack its metagame in no time at all. Had Gwent been designed to be a competitive human against human game, this aspect may have sunk its viability. But luckily, the game is played exclusively against NPCs who wouldn’t know deck optimization from the werewolf that’s eating their kin. Because of this I was able to experiment with suboptimal decks for the sake of variety and still be able to compete. This was best demonstrated as I tried out Skellige, the newest faction introduced in Blood and Wine. Skellige’s big mechanic are berserker cards that can transform into superpowered bears in the presence of a mushroom called mardroeme. While the mechanic is quite situational as it requires two or more cards in the same hand to work effectively, it’s loads of fun when you’ve turned a whole row of berserkers into bears with 20 strength each.

As far as card-based minigames go, Gwent is probably the best one I’ve played since Pazaak in Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. Gwent succeeds because it recognizes both the limitations and advantages of being part of a much larger RPG. It eschews the complex nature of standalone CCGs in favor of a much simpler play style and straightforward deck building. It also utilizes the back story and characters from The Witcher canon to create evocative and beautiful cards. But above all, it recognizes that since the player will only play against the computer, there’s no reason to care about fully balancing the game. Gwent allows savvy players to “solve” it and it doesn’t punish them from running the table against NPCs. While I’m not so much a Gwent nut that I would mod it to replace combat, I still enjoy it immensely. For those of you starting a new game of The Witcher III, or even those jumping back into the new expansion, I recommend taking some time to play cards. There’s a whole world of strategy for Geralt to partake in, and it’d be a shame to miss it.

Since it came to Games with Gold back in April, I have been slowly picking my way through Insomniac’s colorful apocalypse simulator, Sunset Overdrive. From what I can tell it’s not a particularly long game, with the website How Long to Beat clocking it at about 31 hours for full completion. But here I am, a month and a half since I first booted the game up, and I’m still not finished with even the main storyline. It’s not that I dislike the game, as I keep coming back to it. No, the reason that Sunset Overdrive is taking me so long to beat is because it’s been the perfect game to play in short bursts.

Seeing as the game is an Xbox One exclusive, I suppose it would be helpful to explain what Sunset Overdrive is exactly. Basically the game is set in an open world where the main character is given extraordinary abilities and armaments which they use to slay energy drink-fueled monsters. Think Crackdown meets Saints Row and you’ll have a good idea of what I’m talking about. The game also features an irreverent tone and plenty of fourth-wall breaking jokes that acknowledge the video game artifice holding up the proceedings. While the gameplay is responsive and satisfying, most of the dialog and jokes have a trying-too-hard quality. The soundtrack isn’t much better, with a punk vibe that feels at odds with a corporate nature of this large and polished project. Still, the core of grinding and bouncing through the city while slaughtering waves of enemies with inventive guns remains consistently fun. But more so than being just a decent game, Sunset Overdrive shines brightest in quick sessions.

I don’t think I’ve had a session with Sunset Overdrive go longer than an hour. It’s typically been played as a palette cleanser for when I’m in the middle of other games. Uncharted 4’s middle chapters starting to drag? Off to defend my Amps while they cook. Need to come down off an adrenaline high after a level of Doom? Time to run some traversal challenges. The difficulty level in Sunset Overdrive can be best described as breezy once you get the hang of its mechanics, and they’re easy enough to pick back up if you haven’t played it for a few weeks. After only 10-15 minutes of playing, I feel like I've accomplished an objective, leveled up my abilities, or knocked out a mission. Combine that with a story that I stopped caring about pretty early on and the game makes a compelling case as a backup when I need a break from games that I’m “really” playing.

I’m starting to appreciate games that require shorter time commitments more and more. Part of it is the typical “I’m an adult with limited time” shtick, but I also think that advances in technology and game design have helped these types of games thrive. The introduction of suspend mode on both the Playstation 4 and Xbox One has reduced the hurdle to simply start a session. There’s been countless times that I was able to sneak in a Forza 6 race or a round of Rocket League before work due to this. In addition, the rise of SSDs have significantly reduced load times so I can more impulsively jump into games like Stardew Valley when the mood strikes. And I need not mention the behemoth that is mobile and tablet games providing entertaining quick hits as I wait for Halo 5 matches to connect. Certainly, long-form experiences continue to exist and provide value to me, but being able to quickly fire up a game to reset myself has proven invaluable in keeping me interested in those longer games and in preventing burnout.

For the short-time games themselves there’s also value in brief play sessions. I suspect that with the repetitive nature of Sunset Overdrive’s gameplay I would have become bored with it after a few 3-5 hour chunks. Instead, by spreading a 3-5 hour play session over a week, the game remains novel and interesting. I'm not sure if this was Insomniac’s actual intent but it works wonderfully to keep the game in my rotation and on my mind for so long. That’s quite an accomplishment considering that I typically juggle a half dozen games each month.

Short-time games are certainly not a new thing. I recall going through races in Mario Kart as I waited for the next Rainbow Six 3 match to start. But the intervening years of advancing game design and technology have allowed for these types of games to really flourish and add richness to our gaming experience. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got about 30 minutes to squeeze in some monster destruction.

Me: Hello and thanks again for doing this interview. I can imag-

DOOM: I AM RETRIBUTION INCARNATE.

Me: Um, ok. As I was, saying, I can imagine that your schedule is quite full from the reception you’ve been getting lately. You came out of nowhere and everyone seems to love you. How does it feel to be back in the spotlight?

DOOM: IT WAS PROPHESIED THAT MY RETURN WOULD BRING BACK NO-NONSENSE SHOOTERS AS WELL AS THE END TIMES. IT’S NO SURPRISE THAT YOU MORTALS WISH TO SUCKLE ON MY UNHOLY TEET. I AM YOUR SAVIOR AND DAMNATION.

Me: Yes, yes. Hell and all that. But what really got me interested was your lean and focused gameplay. You seem to know that your strength is creating carnage and all of your systems double down on that fact.

DOOM: ABSOLUTELY. YOU’D THINK THAT THE DESIGN PRINCIPLES I ESTABLISHED IN 1993 WOULD FEEL OUT OF PLACE OVER 20 YEARS LATER BUT ALAS NO.

Me: You do feel quite distinct from modern shooters. I mean, you don't have regenerating health, reloading, a cover system, or even a sprint button. The risk seems to have paid off, but were you ever concerned that the audience wasn’t there for a throwback?

DOOM: FUCK NO. DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I INVENTED THE FIRST PERSON SHOOTER. THERE’S ALWAYS PEOPLE THAT WANT TO RIP AND TEAR THROUGH HELL AND MARS.

Me: Hold up, I wouldn’t say that you invented the first person shooter.

DOOM: OH REALLY?!

Me: I mean, Wolfenstein 3D came first, right?

DOOM: FINE. B.J. BLAZKOWICZ WAS KILLING NAZIS SLIGHTLY BEFORE I ANNIHILATED HELL.

Me: He also seemed to have kicked off the throwback shooter trend a few years back with the well-received Wolfenstein: The New Order. That game embraced modern shooter design a fair bit more than you did. Did that game’s success tempt you into making the campaign more character and story focused?

DOOM: I RESPECT THE SHIT OUT OF WOLFENSTEIN. I’D HAVE RUN OUT OF DEMONS A LONG TIME AGO IF IT WEREN’T FOR BJ KEEPING HADES STOCKED UP WITH DEAD NAZIS. BUT DOOM WAS NEVER ABOUT THE STORY AND I MADE IT A POINT FOR DOOMGUY TO BE ANTAGONISTIC TOWARDS ANY POSSIBILITY OF A REAL NARRATIVE.

Me: The economy of storytelling is one of the things that most impressed me about you. Here’s Doomguy emerging out of a stone sarcophagus after this facility becomes completely overrun by the forces of hell. He’s the emergency button to press when there’s a demonic invasion and that’s really it. He doesn’t talk and actively disdains subtlety. He’s turned brutality into a language.

DOOM: I MADE SURE THAT HE FIT COMPLETELY IN THE SETTING I WAS PRESENTING. NONE OF THIS LUDONARRATIVE BULLSHIT. I WANT YOU TO FUCKING EVISCERATE SOME DEMONS AND THAT’S COMPLETELY IN LINE WITH DOOMGUY’S CHARACTER. THE PLAYER IS NEVER GIVEN A CHANCE TO BREAK FROM HIS PERSONALITY PRECISELY BECAUSE HE EMBODIES WHAT I’M ALL ABOUT.

Me: It’s something that’s come into stark relief for me after recently playing Uncharted 4, a game that’s practically the poster child for ludonarrative dissonance. In that game, Nathan Drake as a character wishes for a quiet life as a married man but his in-game actions are diametrically opposed to that. You, on the other hand, built this world that exists precisely to get the player into arenas filled with enemies to shoot, and you keep that world consistent.

DOOM: YOUR POINT?

Me: No point, just wanted to give you a compliment.

DOOM: UH... THANKS.

Me: Anyway, let’s talk about your new features. While you do have a stripped down and straightforward design, that doesn’t mean you haven’t incorporated some innovations. For instance, I was surprised to see such an extensive upgrade system. What was the thinking behind that?

DOOM: MOST SHOOTERS CAN’T EVEN SNIFF THE CHAOS I PROVIDE. BUT ON OCCASION THEY COME UP WITH A HALF DECENT IDEA THAT I’M NOT OPPOSED TO STEALING. THE UPGRADE SYSTEM HELPS TO ENSURE A SENSE OF PROGRESSION. IT ALSO INCENTIVIZES EXPLORATION OF MY LARGE MAPS.

Me: You also make the upgrade system feel very organic to the experience. Unlike other games’ incremental progression, each of your upgrades feel like a big step up in arsenal and combat options.

DOOM: THAT’S KEY TO MAINTAINING THE FEELING OF PLAYER EMPOWERMENT. INSTEAD OF JUST GETTING A DAMAGE BOOST TO YOUR MACHINE GUN YOU GET MOTHERFUCKING MISSILES.

Me: Another feature that I totally loved was the Glory Kills mechanic. Essentially, to get back health you need to stagger demons with guns and then finish them off with a melee kill. It seems like such a Doom answer to the problem of health maintenance in shooters. What was your motivation to include Glory Kills?

DOOM: I FUCKING HATE REGENERATING HEALTH BUT I GET WHY IT BECAME A THING. BACK IN THE DAY YOU’D GO THROUGH AN ENEMY ENCOUNTER AND THEN WOULD HAVE TO HUNT FOR A HEALTH PACK TO HEAL UP. BUT WHEN YOU’RE DOING THAT YOU CAN’T SATISFY YOUR MURDERLUST. REGENERATING HEALTH FIXES THAT BY ELIMINATING HEALTH PACKS. BUT THEN YOU GET THE OTHER PROBLEM OF SITTING BEHIND COVER WHILE YOU RECOVER. ONCE AGAIN THE MURDER STOPS AND I CAN’T ABIDE THAT.

Me: So the Glory Kills are there keep the flow of combat?

DOOM: LOOK AT THE BEST GAMES EVER AND WHAT DO THEY HAVE IN COMMON? THEY IDENTIFY THE THING THAT’S THE MOST FUN AND ENSURE THAT YOU’RE NEVER BLOCKED FROM DOING THAT THING. THE MOST FUN THING FOR ME IS UP-CLOSE DEMON SLAUGHTER. SO WHY NOT TIE MY HEALTH MECHANIC TO THAT? GO FUCK UP SOME ENEMIES AND GET YOUR HEALTH BACK. IT’S ALMOST ZEN-LIKE IN ITS SIMPLICITY.

Me: This bridging of the old and new has really struck a nerve with a great many players. The old-school Doom fans are ecstatic about you, but you also appeal to people like me that don’t have the same reverence for your legacy.

DOOM: WAIT. YOU NEVER PLAYED THE OLD ME?

Me: Well, I was a bit on the young side when you first came out and my Mario-addled mind wasn’t ready to deal with demons and hell. I did eventually play some Doom 64, though.

DOOM: CHRIST THEY KEEP GETTING YOUNGER. MY NINTENDO 64 VERSION WAS ADEQUATE SO I’LL GIVE YOU A PASS.

Me: Thank you. But getting back to the neophytes, it’s astonishing how they have come to appreciate your style of gameplay without having nostalgia or context. Why do you think you’re getting all this love from a demographic that cut their teeth on Call of Duty or Halo on the consoles?

DOOM: PART OF IT COMES FROM THE FACT THAT DEMONCIDE IS TIMELESS AND NEVER REALLY GOES OUT OF STYLE. THE OTHER PART COMES FROM THE NATURE OF MODERN GAME DESIGN. I’M NOT JUST ON PC BUT ON CONSOLES AS WELL. BECAUSE OF THIS I HAD TO MAKE SURE I PLAYED SMOOTHLY ON A CONTROLLER AS WELL AS A MOUSE AND KEYBOARD. WHEN YOU MAKE SOMETHING ACCESSIBLE AND FUN PEOPLE RESPOND.

Me: That makes a lot of sense. I admittedly come from a console background but got your PC version. Playing on max settings, blasting the heavy metal soundtrack while I’m hunched over a desk is a simultaneously empowering and draining experience.

DOOM: GLAD TO HEAR IT. IF YOU DON’T WALK AWAY FROM A PLAY SESSION WITH AN ADRENALINE HIGH AND BAD POSTURE I HAVEN’T DONE MY JOB.

Me: I don’t want to take up too much more of your time, so to wrap this up are there any closing thoughts you’d like to share?

DOOM: IN THE HEART OF EVERY MORTAL LIES AN UNQUENCHABLE THIRST FOR MURDER OF WHICH I AM THE MANIFESTATION. FOR AS LONG AS THERE ARE HUMANS THERE WILL BE DOOM. I AM THE ALPHA AND OMEGA OF BUTCHERY AND YOU WILL ALL BOW BEFORE ME. DOOM OUT.

In 2002, Nintendo released the Wavebird controller for their Gamecube console. The controller, a wireless take on their regular Gamecube controller minus the rumble, stands as one of my favorite video game input devices ever. In the Wavebird, Nintendo made the first wireless controller that worked as well as its wired counterpart and pushed the industry to make wireless inputs standard in subsequent console generations. But further to that, it also came from an era when I was actually passionate about Nintendo products. With Nintendo soon to debut its NX console in a bid to win back its many customers that jumped ship from the Wii and Wii U, hopefully they can take the following lessons from its groundbreaking controller to heart.

It Just Worked

The Wavebird was not the first wireless controller, but it was the first one that actually worked well. I imagine most people who were around for the PS2/Gamecube/Xbox days remember the countless third party controllers that never quite felt right or reliably worked with their consoles. Nintendo, on the other hand, focused on delivering a wireless controller that worked almost as reliably as its wired equivalent. In addition, the Wavebird was designed to squeeze countless hours of battery life from a pair of double AAs. Certainly, trade-offs had to be made, such as the lack of rumble and slightly bulky aesthetics, but that was offset by a controller that the player didn’t have to worry about. The result was gaming nirvana, as I was able to play countless hours of Wind Waker and Mario Golf in whatever position I found most comfortable. From the Wii onward, however, the controller no longer melted away to facilitate gaming. Instead it became the centerpiece, the thing that was the focus of the experience. I don’t think there’s been a Wii game (including even the sublime Super Mario Galaxy) where I didn’t have to fight against the motion controls or awkward form factor. This issue became more prevalent with the Wii U, as you literally had to split your attention between the controller and TV for many games. Whatever the design of the NX, it shouldn’t attempt to include innovation for innovation’s sake. Instead, Nintendo needs to ask the following question; will X feature improve the player’s experience? Granted, it’s tough to predict what features will or will not be useful to everyday players, but Nintendo needs to be more discriminating in the features that it decides to include. If that leads to a more conventional console design, then so be it.

It Did Just Enough

The brilliance of the Wavebird was that it didn’t overreach in its ambitions. Nintendo wanted to make a wireless version of their standard controller at a reasonable cost and did just that. Similarly, the NX should be focused on doing just enough to satisfy consumers. The system need not have best-in-class graphics or a wholly innovative input method to be successful. What it does need to do is address the software drought that’s plagued the Wii U and 3DS. To that end there needs to be more focus on ensuring the development pipeline is producing a steady stream of quality content. This doesn’t just have to be boxed $60 titles, but also experimental downloadable titles. In-house development can also be augmented by making it easy to port Unity-based indie titles onto the platform, and by Nintendo using their massive war chest to co-develop titles with third parties. Make the NX the premiere place to play lots of top-notch games with the patented Nintendo polish and they’ll have made a compelling piece of hardware.

It Shamelessly Stole Ideas

The Wavebird was hardly a surprise when it first released. As previously mentioned, stores were full of third party wireless controllers that used the same basic concepts at the time of the Wavebird’s release. Furthermore, the Wavebird and standard Gamecube controller both shamelessly stole their basic design from Sony’s DualShock controllers. I say this not to disparage Nintendo, but to emphasize the fact that learning from competitors and implementing those lessons is just good business. Nintendo needs to observe what Sony, Microsoft, and PC developers are doing well and incorporate these features where it makes sense. Nintendo would be well served by creating an online service like PSN or Xbox Live, a subscription service giving out games each month, or even a Netflix-like monthly charge to access the entirety of the Virtual Console. These features would not make the NX feel any less like a Nintendo console, but they would help to make the console appealing to a generation that grew up on Playstations and Xboxes.

Parting Thoughts

I’m writing this mostly to put on paper things that have been rattling around in my head and I make no claims that these ideas will turn around Nintendo’s flagging fortunes. My perspective is that of someone who grew up with Nintendo but drifted away when I realized that they weren’t catering to my wants as a consumer. Can Nintendo reinvent the wheel yet again and succeed? Absolutely. But part of me wants to see what they can do if they release a no-nonsense console that gets them back to making awesome games. Maybe I’m thinking too small, or that I’m focusing on my generation’s thoughts and experiences to design a dated console. In any case, I’m rooting for Nintendo to wow me like it has in the past. The NX is facing incredible expectations by both consumers and Nintendo itself, and who knows if it will live up to them. But Nintendo’s been on the ropes before and I can’t wait to see what they come out swinging with.