The Game Group retail failure—277 stores closed and 2,000 employees cut, at present—is a real frustration, even in the face of a dominant (and superior) online market. The obsolescence of GAME's high street set-up was obvious to anyone who had ever used a computer to buy anything. Still, it is sad to see this manifestation of the gaming industry's struggle in the recession. Keza MacDonald's article on the subject (whose choice in title-pun, 'Game Over', totally didn't pre-empt me) aptly frames the loss around what the GAME franchise had already undermined. That is, the sense of obscurity and enthusiasm that was washed away as gaming, and Game Group, took to the mainstream in the mid '00s.
Game Group's standardisation removed all traces of individuality when it came to game shops: tangential materials were cut back to a bare minimum in favour of massive pre-owned sections, while over-all selection was limited to only the current generation of consoles. A business model that leans on second-hand sales as much as GAME's should be able to produce a huge selection of titles. Indeed, trekking to different shops was often a rewarding experience; today it is an exercise in futility. My local independent shop was a place where the latest releases were two metres away from software that was, in some cases, more than a decade old. They were driven out of business when a GAME store opened in the same shopping centre.
My mother once commented that she didn't like the atmosphere of the independent shop in my town, and that she favoured using GAME. This isn't a person with much love for corporations, the dissonance of which I pointed out to her, but that didn't matter: it was too cheap, 'slap-dash'; gaps in the carpet, mind-your-head-as-you-go-up-the-narrow-staircase kind of thing. You know: all the pomp and circumstance of a place that is not backed by much of any money. The icing on the cake here was that the local shop sold practically everything cheaper than GAME in an attempt to win over customers, but that didn't matter: too cheap. Ironically, if we could only see the façade of lending that larger chains like Game Group are privy to we would see a far shabbier affair: an £85m debt pile is an ugly thing to accrue alongside the ousting of the superior independent retailers. The boom-period that Game Group presided over was so much squandered potential in favour of short-sighted business. I can't say I will miss the stores that disappear, although I do feel for those who lost their jobs because of it.
It's crappy for the kids who will never get to experience the enthusiasts' shopping space, though. That possibility was quietly put away a decade ago. To be honest, Game Group's apparent inadequacy makes me feel disturbingly vindicated. It shouldn't, really; the loss of visual presence on high streets can't be good for gaming. That said, the heightened presence didn't seem like a particularly good thing for gaming in the first place, but I can't begrudge the 'casual' market their Angry Birds and Wii Sports.
Showing posts with label Games. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Games. Show all posts
Saturday, 31 March 2012
Monday, 22 August 2011
Out With The Old, In With The Old. Golden Sun: Dark Dawn Review
Review: Golden Sun: Dark Dawn
It takes a series like Golden Sun to show a player where their favourite assets lie in RPGs. Not since Final Fantasy: Tactics have I felt normality to be displaced as rapidly as it is here. I should clarify: what makes these titles so thought-provoking for the genre isn’t any kind of ruthless casting to the side of conventions. No, these series embrace their roots with zeal, but minimise certain elements in favour of others. Tactics provided a level of strategy combat tools which can only be surmised as comprehensive. From racial deviations of combat ability, to environmental tinkering; the series was a succession of battlefields waiting to happen. But Golden Sun marks the antithesis to this approach: its simple turn-based fighting is tucked neatly to the side, as puzzles, narrative and aesthetical variety are thrown into focus.
Most RPGs paint the combat as the back-bone to the gameplay. We’ve all experienced it in some form or another, that point at which our customisation pays off with lethal precision. With such an enormous accumulation of conventions over the years, very specific predictions start to seem reasonable. New dungeons are expected to pose a threat. They are supposed to hold weapons and armour somehow superior to any area you’ve previously visited. They are inexplicable bastions of labyrinthine tunnels, unknown enemies and deadly confrontations. This is where Golden Sun: The Dark Dawn stands out the most: it is almost completely bereft of this danger. I found myself wandering ominous corridors, expecting to stumble across some Real Enemies at any second. Notice the capitalisation: this may be presumed to denote their stark paucity. No matter how malicious-looking the dungeon you’re never far from the gentle prods of the suicidal locals.
If the combat-vacuum this suggests worries you, perhaps the content which fills this gap can sate your appetite. Namely dialogue and puzzles. Your team of young magicians (or ‘adepts’ in this world) use their spells (Psynergy) to progress through tricky terrain and solve mechanical constructs. Is there usually a boss battle at the end of the dungeon? Would you settle for a long conversation followed by another fightless puzzle-section instead? There is one mainstay of combat here, though: the world map. It is, in comparison to other environments in the game, a savage place, with extremely frequent random encounters. It makes for an unpleasant contrast to Dark Dawn’s puzzle-hole, safety-first dungeons.
Maybe Golden Sun just doesn’t suit my tastes anymore. I’ve grown to love the combat of modern titles, and while a good story will usually take priority over a game’s mechanics, I know which component is most likely to keep me coming back. That said, I would question the elements this title chooses to emphasise anyway: the puzzles are practically the same as the first two Golden Sun titles, whose story I also felt was harnessed to a much greater effect. I was invested at the time for a number of reasons: the lack of alternative RPG titles on the GBA, a hunger for a title with a rich plot, and the general idea that dialogue was simply a good thing for games to have. Over-abundance wasn’t a consideration. At the same time, though, I feel that the musical quality has remained pretty consistent in strength. That is, above average, but nothing really ear-catching.
With Dark Dawn you find yourself in control of the sons/daughter of the original protagonists, as they set off on a thinly contrived adventure. I can roll with a lot of story choices, but this approach smacks of laziness. If nothing else it’s extremely difficult to invest in characters that are carbon-copies of their parents. It’s a shame Camelot chose such a weak basis to move into a story that clearly had a lot of thought put into it. Characterisation and shifting geographies develop to fine points as the game progresses, and it seems worth mentioning a certain proficiency with narrative hooks and convention here. The best example I can give is the reason you set off on your adventure to begin with. Though both irritatingly convenient and inexplicable all at once, the goal feels like a neat throwback to older RPGs. Your group is searching for a giant bird called a Mountain Roc with the intention of getting one of its feathers. Nice and simple, although the reams of dialogue which spurn this on would suggest otherwise.
Even with all of this said, though, I feel like I’ve undersold the game. The length here is considerable, and the narrative seldom falls into lulls. If you can see yourself enjoying an RPG where NPCs divulge their life-story at the drop of a hat, then you’re in luck. Maybe this game works best for newcomers. Every element is so rehashed that I find myself hard-pressed to consume Camelot’s leftovers, yet I know there are strengths here. I’ve bashed the puzzles, but they will fit many players’ palettes and are satisfyingly conceived for the most part. While many players prefer puzzles whose obscure, mind-wrenching answer bestows an almost divine sense of providence upon completion, I am more of the inclination to enjoy puzzles that don’t take the piss. And while this title would definitely suit the latter category, it does so at the expense of a challenging experience.
It takes a series like Golden Sun to show a player where their favourite assets lie in RPGs. Not since Final Fantasy: Tactics have I felt normality to be displaced as rapidly as it is here. I should clarify: what makes these titles so thought-provoking for the genre isn’t any kind of ruthless casting to the side of conventions. No, these series embrace their roots with zeal, but minimise certain elements in favour of others. Tactics provided a level of strategy combat tools which can only be surmised as comprehensive. From racial deviations of combat ability, to environmental tinkering; the series was a succession of battlefields waiting to happen. But Golden Sun marks the antithesis to this approach: its simple turn-based fighting is tucked neatly to the side, as puzzles, narrative and aesthetical variety are thrown into focus.
Most RPGs paint the combat as the back-bone to the gameplay. We’ve all experienced it in some form or another, that point at which our customisation pays off with lethal precision. With such an enormous accumulation of conventions over the years, very specific predictions start to seem reasonable. New dungeons are expected to pose a threat. They are supposed to hold weapons and armour somehow superior to any area you’ve previously visited. They are inexplicable bastions of labyrinthine tunnels, unknown enemies and deadly confrontations. This is where Golden Sun: The Dark Dawn stands out the most: it is almost completely bereft of this danger. I found myself wandering ominous corridors, expecting to stumble across some Real Enemies at any second. Notice the capitalisation: this may be presumed to denote their stark paucity. No matter how malicious-looking the dungeon you’re never far from the gentle prods of the suicidal locals.
If the combat-vacuum this suggests worries you, perhaps the content which fills this gap can sate your appetite. Namely dialogue and puzzles. Your team of young magicians (or ‘adepts’ in this world) use their spells (Psynergy) to progress through tricky terrain and solve mechanical constructs. Is there usually a boss battle at the end of the dungeon? Would you settle for a long conversation followed by another fightless puzzle-section instead? There is one mainstay of combat here, though: the world map. It is, in comparison to other environments in the game, a savage place, with extremely frequent random encounters. It makes for an unpleasant contrast to Dark Dawn’s puzzle-hole, safety-first dungeons.
Maybe Golden Sun just doesn’t suit my tastes anymore. I’ve grown to love the combat of modern titles, and while a good story will usually take priority over a game’s mechanics, I know which component is most likely to keep me coming back. That said, I would question the elements this title chooses to emphasise anyway: the puzzles are practically the same as the first two Golden Sun titles, whose story I also felt was harnessed to a much greater effect. I was invested at the time for a number of reasons: the lack of alternative RPG titles on the GBA, a hunger for a title with a rich plot, and the general idea that dialogue was simply a good thing for games to have. Over-abundance wasn’t a consideration. At the same time, though, I feel that the musical quality has remained pretty consistent in strength. That is, above average, but nothing really ear-catching.
With Dark Dawn you find yourself in control of the sons/daughter of the original protagonists, as they set off on a thinly contrived adventure. I can roll with a lot of story choices, but this approach smacks of laziness. If nothing else it’s extremely difficult to invest in characters that are carbon-copies of their parents. It’s a shame Camelot chose such a weak basis to move into a story that clearly had a lot of thought put into it. Characterisation and shifting geographies develop to fine points as the game progresses, and it seems worth mentioning a certain proficiency with narrative hooks and convention here. The best example I can give is the reason you set off on your adventure to begin with. Though both irritatingly convenient and inexplicable all at once, the goal feels like a neat throwback to older RPGs. Your group is searching for a giant bird called a Mountain Roc with the intention of getting one of its feathers. Nice and simple, although the reams of dialogue which spurn this on would suggest otherwise.
Even with all of this said, though, I feel like I’ve undersold the game. The length here is considerable, and the narrative seldom falls into lulls. If you can see yourself enjoying an RPG where NPCs divulge their life-story at the drop of a hat, then you’re in luck. Maybe this game works best for newcomers. Every element is so rehashed that I find myself hard-pressed to consume Camelot’s leftovers, yet I know there are strengths here. I’ve bashed the puzzles, but they will fit many players’ palettes and are satisfyingly conceived for the most part. While many players prefer puzzles whose obscure, mind-wrenching answer bestows an almost divine sense of providence upon completion, I am more of the inclination to enjoy puzzles that don’t take the piss. And while this title would definitely suit the latter category, it does so at the expense of a challenging experience.
Saturday, 21 May 2011
Portal 2’s Reviews, and a Portal 2 Review
When a team of developers continuously transmutes their code into gold, people start expecting more. Or such is the argument reviewers put forward to justify the obligatory nit-picking that follows. Actually, the critical reception of this game has been pretty good; it’s praised like it should be. Although there’s only so many ways people can phrase ‘It’s funny, well-paced and the puzzles are ever so wonderful.’ More worrying are the reviewers who feel the need to point this out right from the get-go. Seriously, it’s Portal 2: quit insulting your readers’ intelligence. Aren’t those numbers-out-of-whatever supposed to mean something? There are certain pieces of information that any reader with half a brain can deduce from the information available: if your review is on the internet, and you have a giant number right at the top of it, do you really think the reader would be interested to learn that Valve has expanded on its use of objects which interact with portals? Do the Fast5 reviews point out that bright cars are driven amidst exploding scenery? Hang on, I’ll check.
It’s about half and half. And the reviews which indulge in the obvious car prominence tend to carry some vague inquiry as to whether the dumb simplicity sells it or not, but I digress.
In all honesty, I can’t be too harsh on the critics. Not when it’s the user reviews that have funniest content: cue hype-based angst. Portal 2 is significantly better than your average videogame, but because of Valve’s sterling reputation people expect—Christ knows what they expect! Get a load of user Stabby’s (Metacritic) ire: “If this is the game of the year, then it definitely is a bad year for games. I could see how this game could be challenging and funny to 10 year olds, but for adult gamers its[sic] just too easy and childish in its execution, don't believe the hype.” I love that they command anyone who reads not to ‘believe’, when perhaps they should have used the word ‘invent’. They clearly had some imaginative model cooked up for what this game should be and that can be a pretty dangerous mentality to adopt, especially around sequels. This guy abandoned any logical basis for reviewing the game, all because it didn’t fit their fantasy. Someone should have reminded them that the original Portal’s single-player wasn’t hugely challenging, either: it’s still fun.
The esteemed ‘Stabby’ raises another interesting point, though: game of the year. The year isn’t actually half way through yet, but I’ll let that go. This is like someone moaning about who the Oscar for best film went to, only even more dumb since there’s no real consensus-body for aggregating industry opinion. But if there was a de facto Gaming Oscar, it would be just that: opinion. Sure, it’s nice to back a winner and, by corollary, annoying to see something that disappointed you celebrated by everyone else. But a horde of professional approval is seldom misplaced.
This guy doesn’t even know that Portal 2 is going to be game of the year for any publication, but the idea infuriates him! So much so that he was compelled to place a sneering ‘four’ atop his review. It’s pre-emptive hate, in a sense: the belief that a title is so over-rated that its reputation must be just as over-tarnished if the truth is to carry forward. It happened to Final Fantasy VII, too: a huge fan-base, followed by a second wave of people who were told to expect some kind of playable Rembrandt painting. Hardly surprising that people walk away angry.
My favourite point in the reviews of Portal 2, though, is how much bigger the single-player is this time around. It’s a fact: the solo mode is about three times as large as the original. But come on: this is a self-contained game. I think people would be a little pissed off if Portal 2 was the same length. When The Orange Box was on the horizon Portal was just that small game that came with the second Half-Life 2 episode and Team Fortress 2. It’s not a legitimate criticism to point to the lengthier campaign and bemoan some loss of concision; nor is it a particularly praise-worthy comparison to draw with its predecessor; this game had to be bigger. But it is interesting to consider how the developers tackled the issue.
Firstly, Valve made the decision this time around that the single-player is a story before a puzzle game. It captures both elements, but the sections with test-chambers are always leading up to something. The balance is undeniably impressive, but it’s an important (and unavoidable) distinction to make. There are about three or four separate test-chamber areas and, though it feels like each section could have progressed into harder and harder puzzles, the tendency, instead, is to stop short of jarring the player’s progress through the story. So, invariably, Valve had to sacrifice potential puzzles for the sake of the pacing here. The result? Well, there’s a clear aversion to punishing players over and over. But some people like to slave over obscure solutions; it’s practically a tenet of older single-player games. But it might be something best left for dedicated experiences whose aim is not to tell any kind of conventional story.
Once the clarity of the narrative took hold the part of me that wanted harder puzzles was supplanted by a dream of chronological consistence: alongside the sharpest of gameplay mechanics, as here, it turns into the pinnacle of conventional story-telling in games. Nothing is more jarring to this illusion than getting snagged on a hard section, and being subsequently forced to re-live a moment. So how do you go about solving the necessity and complicating nature of difficulty? Well, the pacing has a lot of stress on its seams in this regard: at the points of narrative-lull you can expect the more thought-provoking puzzles to crop up. But as you stand there, analysing the ways in which you might fling yourself to the next section, the muffled narrative pushes against the puzzle. The lack of time-frame in these sections almost becomes a detriment, with the imperative kicking against the fact of the diversionary puzzle. Then, just as quickly, the narrative springs into life; the previous mystery becomes a relic.
Any left over longing for a harder angle on the Portal 2 concept still finds its fulfilment in the form of the cooperative campaign: the final touch this game needed. While the single-player mode is primarily chamber-based, the concise narrative is the real, hidden backbone. Thus the cooperative focus on puzzles: a new take on the game, introducing the need to abuse four portals, and your friends’ free time. In short: the perfect outlet for the dedicated puzzle game experience.
So unless you’re looking for a stack of painfully difficult puzzles with little or no consideration for narrative pacing, I think it’s fair to say that most will enjoy this game. Now if only we could see a little restraint from the critical community’s love of the obvious. Oh, speaking of which, John Simmons and Stephen Merchant play prominent roles in this title. Are they amusing, well-implemented, apt even? Take a guess.
It’s about half and half. And the reviews which indulge in the obvious car prominence tend to carry some vague inquiry as to whether the dumb simplicity sells it or not, but I digress.
In all honesty, I can’t be too harsh on the critics. Not when it’s the user reviews that have funniest content: cue hype-based angst. Portal 2 is significantly better than your average videogame, but because of Valve’s sterling reputation people expect—Christ knows what they expect! Get a load of user Stabby’s (Metacritic) ire: “If this is the game of the year, then it definitely is a bad year for games. I could see how this game could be challenging and funny to 10 year olds, but for adult gamers its[sic] just too easy and childish in its execution, don't believe the hype.” I love that they command anyone who reads not to ‘believe’, when perhaps they should have used the word ‘invent’. They clearly had some imaginative model cooked up for what this game should be and that can be a pretty dangerous mentality to adopt, especially around sequels. This guy abandoned any logical basis for reviewing the game, all because it didn’t fit their fantasy. Someone should have reminded them that the original Portal’s single-player wasn’t hugely challenging, either: it’s still fun.
The esteemed ‘Stabby’ raises another interesting point, though: game of the year. The year isn’t actually half way through yet, but I’ll let that go. This is like someone moaning about who the Oscar for best film went to, only even more dumb since there’s no real consensus-body for aggregating industry opinion. But if there was a de facto Gaming Oscar, it would be just that: opinion. Sure, it’s nice to back a winner and, by corollary, annoying to see something that disappointed you celebrated by everyone else. But a horde of professional approval is seldom misplaced.
This guy doesn’t even know that Portal 2 is going to be game of the year for any publication, but the idea infuriates him! So much so that he was compelled to place a sneering ‘four’ atop his review. It’s pre-emptive hate, in a sense: the belief that a title is so over-rated that its reputation must be just as over-tarnished if the truth is to carry forward. It happened to Final Fantasy VII, too: a huge fan-base, followed by a second wave of people who were told to expect some kind of playable Rembrandt painting. Hardly surprising that people walk away angry.
My favourite point in the reviews of Portal 2, though, is how much bigger the single-player is this time around. It’s a fact: the solo mode is about three times as large as the original. But come on: this is a self-contained game. I think people would be a little pissed off if Portal 2 was the same length. When The Orange Box was on the horizon Portal was just that small game that came with the second Half-Life 2 episode and Team Fortress 2. It’s not a legitimate criticism to point to the lengthier campaign and bemoan some loss of concision; nor is it a particularly praise-worthy comparison to draw with its predecessor; this game had to be bigger. But it is interesting to consider how the developers tackled the issue.
Firstly, Valve made the decision this time around that the single-player is a story before a puzzle game. It captures both elements, but the sections with test-chambers are always leading up to something. The balance is undeniably impressive, but it’s an important (and unavoidable) distinction to make. There are about three or four separate test-chamber areas and, though it feels like each section could have progressed into harder and harder puzzles, the tendency, instead, is to stop short of jarring the player’s progress through the story. So, invariably, Valve had to sacrifice potential puzzles for the sake of the pacing here. The result? Well, there’s a clear aversion to punishing players over and over. But some people like to slave over obscure solutions; it’s practically a tenet of older single-player games. But it might be something best left for dedicated experiences whose aim is not to tell any kind of conventional story.
Once the clarity of the narrative took hold the part of me that wanted harder puzzles was supplanted by a dream of chronological consistence: alongside the sharpest of gameplay mechanics, as here, it turns into the pinnacle of conventional story-telling in games. Nothing is more jarring to this illusion than getting snagged on a hard section, and being subsequently forced to re-live a moment. So how do you go about solving the necessity and complicating nature of difficulty? Well, the pacing has a lot of stress on its seams in this regard: at the points of narrative-lull you can expect the more thought-provoking puzzles to crop up. But as you stand there, analysing the ways in which you might fling yourself to the next section, the muffled narrative pushes against the puzzle. The lack of time-frame in these sections almost becomes a detriment, with the imperative kicking against the fact of the diversionary puzzle. Then, just as quickly, the narrative springs into life; the previous mystery becomes a relic.
Any left over longing for a harder angle on the Portal 2 concept still finds its fulfilment in the form of the cooperative campaign: the final touch this game needed. While the single-player mode is primarily chamber-based, the concise narrative is the real, hidden backbone. Thus the cooperative focus on puzzles: a new take on the game, introducing the need to abuse four portals, and your friends’ free time. In short: the perfect outlet for the dedicated puzzle game experience.
So unless you’re looking for a stack of painfully difficult puzzles with little or no consideration for narrative pacing, I think it’s fair to say that most will enjoy this game. Now if only we could see a little restraint from the critical community’s love of the obvious. Oh, speaking of which, John Simmons and Stephen Merchant play prominent roles in this title. Are they amusing, well-implemented, apt even? Take a guess.
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