Wednesday, November 26

The Mirror's Edge Debate Continues

Ben Fritz continues the debate about Mirror's Edge and reviews and innovation, of which I discussed a couple of days ago. He responds specifically to N'Gai Croal's most recent discussion on the topic. I think Fritz makes some excellent points, but Croal does as well. A particularly apt comment, I think, that Croal asserts, and also quoted by Fritz is this:
Mirror's Edge, far more so than traditional platformers, is at its most exhilarating whenever you achieve an unbroken chain of continuous motion. But because it uses a first-person camera, it drastically reduces your situational awareness as compared to a third-person camera system. That fact, combined with the need to create varied, challenging gameplay scenarios, results in a good deal of trial-and-error--which is precisely the opposite of Mirror's Edge at its most exciting. Why? Because it breaks the flow and grinds the action to a halt.
I'm in the same boat as Leigh Alexander, haven't played Mirror's Edge. But with what I think I know about game design, things gotta work together. All the pieces of the game have to complement one another. If the game is as its best when you've got the flow of parkour going, as Croal, and many others, suggests, then the level design has to accommodate that feeling. But I'm going to stop here, because having no personal experience with the game, I'm in no position to make judgments.

The other half of the Mirror's Edge discussion between these journalists concerns reviews. Fritz writes, "Too many reviews, I'm saying, don't focus enough on the big, new important elements of games. Instead they focus on the same list of attributes they always have." He cites, specifically, IGN's reviews in what I think is a fairly good criticism, calling the review "a checklist" of paragraphs. And continuing, "That's the kind of thing I find annoying, particularly for an innovative game that doesn't neatly fit the standard criteria." I agree whole-heartedly. I've read many, many, many reviews over the last eight or so years. And I can pretty much predict what they're going to say, or at least their structure. In fact, I don't even read the first two paragraphs of reviews anymore, not normally, because they house basically zero value.
Returning to the point at hand, Fritz reaches beyond reviews and discussion of Mirror's Edge and brings Left 4 Dead into the mix. Lengthy quotation ensues:
I've been surprised to see how some (overall positive) reviews criticized Left 4 Dead because the story is non-existent and a playthrough of the campaigns doesn't take too long. These are important elements in scripted single player games for sure. In a game that explicitly uses Hollywood cliches to immerse players in a world where dynamic enemy A.I. and co-op or competitive gameplay make for nearly endless opportunities for repeat gameplay, they hardly even seems worth mentioning.
Again, haven't played Left 4 Dead yet, but Fritz makes an excellent point. L4D is attacking narrative from a completely different angle than the traditional method. I have also been surprised, reading reviews of the game, to find people criticizing the story. Isn't the real story, after all, the gameplay experience. Left 4 Dead is heavily hinged on the fear and excitement of fighting off zombie hordes. The real story is the player's unique experiences. However, I do concede that players are justifiably curious about the events of Left 4 Dead's world. But as the game is structured in chapters, Valve apparently wanted players to be confused early on (much liek the characters, perhaps), with more truths to be revealed in later DLC.

It will be interesting to see how this Mirror's Edge discussion pans out from here. I've thoroughly enjoyed it thus far, that's for sure. Ultimately, I think critical discussion like this is pivotal to pushing the game industry forward. It is a good thing when such passionate individuals take it upon themselves to engage in intelligent conversation about not only a game's design, but also the state of industry and game reviews. Reviews are clearly a very important part of the game industry whole, so whatever we can do to improve the overall critical eye and process will help mature the game industry as a media circle, and therefore the game medium as well.

Side note, if you've got any awesome Left 4 Dead stories to share, send them to me, and I'll put them up on my other site, My Game Story.

Tuesday, November 25

Diegesis

Why did nobody tell me about this before? Gamasutra posted up an article the other day by Gregory Weir about "Diegesis" and specifically its use in Grim Fandango. Yeah, I'd never heard of the word either.

Wikipedia offers a nice example definition:
Sounds in films is termed diagetic if it is part of the narrative sphere of the film. For instance, if a character in the film is playing a piano, or turns on a CD player, the resulting sound is "diegetic." If, on the other hand, music plays in the background but cannot be heard by the film's characters, it is termed non-diegetic or, more accurately, extra-diegetic.
This is what I've been talking about when I use the word "seamless" in the oh so many articles I've written concerning the topic. I wish I'd known the word earlier. Weir cites a number of great examples of diegesis in video games. Here is but one:
Metroid Prime, in fact, plays with diegesis via the game's very interface. By using the X-Ray Visor, it becomes clear that while the player selects Samus's weapons with the C Stick, Samus herself chooses weapons by moving her fingers into various positions.
Thank you Mr. Weir for bringing this term to my attention. Dear readers, this is why its important to have a good vocabulary.

Bridging the Gap

Many games today are striving for a seamless, immersive gameplay experience. Alone in the Dark, Dead Space, and Mirror's Edge are good examples. But then there is the other side of the coin, the side upon which video games were built: the statistical, fourth-wall breaking presentation. These are the video games that know they're video games and aren't afraid to let players know too. RPGs and Fighting titles still use stat-tracking heavily. The immersive games, meanwhile, have rid themselves of health-bars and HUDs in the hopes that players can feel emotionally unified with game and character and maintain an unbroken, seamless gameplay experience. Why the intention is noble, and I think successful, immersive games, in shunning their other half, may be losing something that could be equally, if not even more affective, at emotionally reaching players.

Part of Metal Gear Solid's charm has always been its blending of the immersive and the statistical. In Metal Gear Solid 4, Snake wields a plethora of stat-heavy weapons, the HUD has a camo-index to show how well hidden Snake is, the solid-eye offers different vision modes, and so on. But Metal Gear Solid 4 adds another stat too, one that goes miles in creating a tangible, emotion connection between player and character: the psyche gauge.

In Metal Gear Solid 4, the psyche gauge keeps track of Snake's mental and emotional health. When engaged in combat or being hunted down, the alert phase switches on and a stress indicator appears on screen, displayed as a percentage. As Snake engages in combat, his stress level rises, and his psyche gauge depletes. A full psyche gauge means Snake is ready for battle. But as the gauge depletes, Snake becomes distraught, stressed, and nervous; the game screen blurs and Snake's hands begin to shake, making for an unsteady shot.

For gameplay purposes, the psyche gauge tells players they need to find a more comfortable spot soon or eat some noodles or Snake's combat performance will suffer. The gauge even has its own codec frequency, Rose, who as a psychiatrist, explains the psyche gauge in depth and will offer Snake help if players call her when the gauge is low.But the psyche gauge does more than just add a layer of difficulty. As players engage in battle, fighting enemy mercenaries, they feel a certain way. Players feel emotionally stressed when the alert phase is on, whether they're trying to hide from an onslaught of soldiers or shoot every one that comes. And Snake feels stressed too; his stress indicator and psyche gauge very explicitly display this fact. From personal experience and from Rose's explanations, players recognize that Snake's faltering mental state will soon cause him to perform less effectively. As a result, players react with worry and try to replenish Snake's pyche so as to both continue the game and relieve their own stress over dying in-game. Perhaps players also feel bad for Snake, as the psyche gauge allows for easy comprehension of his mental trauma in experiencing the brutalities of war. The psyche gauge, in so accurately and immediately representing Snake's mental health, serves as an emotional bridge between player and character, as players can directly sympathize with Snake's situation.

Players have a love/hate relationship with the story-telling style of the Metal Gear Solid series. The games are both lauded for their amazing cutscenes and wracked for their over-reliance on them. Not much changed for Metal Gear Solid 4; the game still employs cutscenes abound to relay story. But the psyche gauge not only bridges gameplay and cutscene, but also allows for a very real, personal connection between players and Snake.The genius that he is, Kojima chose to carry over the psyche gauge from gameplay to cutscene. In a good number of cutscenes throughout the game, the psyche gauge will suddenly appear and deplete a bar. (SPOILERS!) For example, in a cutscene with Naomi, Snake learns he is to die soon, only after living his last couple of weeks as a walking nuclear weapon. Snake frowns, sighs, and slumps hs shoulders, visually showing his concern. (End Spoilers!) But the psyche gauge also immediately appears on screen and depletes a bar, with a sheeeooo sound effect to boot. The obviously disappointing news and the excellent-quality graphics are plenty able on their own to show Snake's emotional distrought. But the psyche gauge, a feature heavily employed in gameplay, is what really allows us to connect. Having personal experience with the psyche gauge during gameplay, players are able to strongly emotionally connect with Snake's stress and disappointment through the gauge's appearence, and I would argue even more so than through the game's graphics.

The psyche gauge is first a gameplay feature. It tells players that they Snake needs to view a magazine fast or he won't be fit to continue. The true power of the gauge, however, is its direct and clear link between Snake and players; acts as an emotional correlation between the two. As a gameplay feature, the psyche gauge breaks immersion, but it more than makes up for the loss in its capacity for emotional bonding. And though cutscenes are often bashed for their robbing of player control and limited ability to emotionally affect players, the psyche gauge serves to blend cutscene and gameplay and is a tangibly-felt design.

Excellent Click Nothing Article

This is an old article, but still extremely relevant. Clint Hocking writes an amazing analysis of the dissonance within Bioshock. Highly recommended. By the way, I found the article by googling "ludonarrative dissonance," suggested by Leigh Alexander's most recent post about Mirror's Edge and review quibbles, inspired, ironically enough, by the Guardian article I discussed yesterday.

Monday, November 24

Awkward Thumbs

Keith Stuart over at the Guardian wrote an interesting article a bit ago about Mirror's Edge and reviewer quibles. Stuart notes, aptly, that reviews of Mirror's Edge haven't exactly been exceptional. Many reviewers cite a clunky control system as a frustrating hindrance to what Mirror's Edge attempts to achieve: fluidity.

Sterling McGarvey of Gamespy writes, "Although its strict core gameplay becomes rewarding with practice, its combat system never gels with the rest of the experience. . . . The combat's unfortunately its Achilles' heel, since it lacks the spontaneity of the free-running and in many instances brings the action to a crashing halt."

Nate Ahearn at UK IGN writes, "The collision detection is off at times, punches and kicks are very redundant and to perform a true disarm you'll need to slow down time and wait for that brief window when the weapon flashes red to snap it out of your assailant's hands."

At GameSpot, Kevin VanOrd notes, concerning the trial-error frequency and puzzle points, that "you're torn from the experience and reminded that this is, after all, just a game."

But Stuart passes these comments of as "niggling doubts about core mechanics." He goes on to compare video games to movies, and in particular the practice of reviewing each media. He Writes:
For example, no-one complains that, say, Pan's Labyrinth or Eraser Head lack the formal, easily recognizable narrative structure of a conventional movie. Their aspirations exempt them from that requirement. So should we really be marking Mirror's Edge down for control issues – a game that aspires to re-interpret the very interface between player, screen and character?
I think his point is effective. What are we really looking at when we review games? What is more important: the overall picture, or the parts within the whole? Should we look past the minute aspects of a game in favor of the general result? Or should a game be accountable for its details? Afterall, a video game is composed of many, many various aspects, all of which contribute, for the better or worse, to the end result.

Stuart ultimately asserts the following: "And ultimately, what does it mean for games criticism, if we can't appreciate visionary moments, because of these weird little checklists of gameplay qualities, constructed and adhered to with near-autistic fervor?"

Here in Italy, I'm taking a photography class. Today, we discussed the photographer Dorthea Lange, who is famous for her "Migrant Mother" photograph.  Take a look see:
Good photo eh? Interesting subject, great composition, invites questioning and contemplation. Ultimately, an excellent photograph. But what you likely do not know is that the photographer, Lange, went in and edited the photograph after its initial print. Here is the original:
Notice anything? There's a left-hand thumb in the bottom-right corner. Maybe Lange's, who knows? Regardless, this thumb, and more importantly, Lange's decision to edit the photo has drawn quite a bit of controversy. I know, its just a thumb. But what does this thumb do to the overall image? Supposedly, Lange felt the thumb threw off the composition. And it does, actually. But is the edited photograph really that much better for it?

Let's say you were reviewing the original. According to Stuart's observations, you might write something like, "Dorthea Lange's photograph, 'Migrant Mother' is a beautiful depiction of life during the great depression. However, an unidentified awkward thumb in the lower right corner throws off the composition and detracts heavily from the overall image. Therefore, though Lange's photograph hits all the right spots of composition and subject matter, its message is ultimately hindered and degraded by a misplaced thumb. That's why I give 'Migrant Mother' a 7.0/10."

Sounds fairly ridiculous. But actually, its not far from the truth as far as today's game reviews go. Lange decided that the photograph was better without the thumb, and I agree. But if we rewind a bit, is the message of the photograph, or even the composition, really hurt that badly by the thumb? I actually don't have an answer; this one comes down to personal preference. And I think its time to return to video games.

Reviews of Tomb Raider: Underworld have been coming out the past few days. And the results are not so different from that of Mirror's Edge. Guy Cocker at GameSpot writes, "Lara will frequently clip into a piece of the scenery and then refuse to come out until you stop, turn around, and run out of it again. Add all this to an incredibly unruly camera, and Tomb Raider Underworld is still just as frustrating as its predecessors."

Gabe Graziani at Gamespy writes, "One of the major detractors to the enjoyment of Underworld is the unfortunate prevalence of a number of pesky bugs." He goes on to mention one particular bug:
Lara will also occasionally display bizarre behaviors such as holding her arms out as though she's jumping whenever you try to shoot her guns. That particular issue doesn't show up terribly frequently (it only happened once during one level and we weren't able to reproduce the error), but it combines with a number of other little programming missteps to undermine the overall integrity of Underworld.
 Honestly, it seems a bit odd to me to devote an entire paragraph of what is only a two-page review to such a minor quibble, as Graziani even admits himself. That aside, should "pesky bugs" be the foundation upon which judgments are made, or are they just pessimistic thinking?

Here's what I think. There comes a point when bugs and design issues are so prevalent, they detract immensely from the intended experience. When the photograph is full of thumbs is when we need to be seriously concerned. And I really do believe every aspect of a game should function cooperatively. Camera, controls, pacing, combat, you name it. Everything should fit together like a neat little puzzle. If you've got one puzzle piece made of square ends and twice as big as the rest of the pieces, which are made of ovular ends, then the understanding and enjoyment of the overall picture is damaged as a result. But at the same time, I think its OK to forgive a game its minor faults in favor of a greater appreciation.
 
Shadow of the Colossus has plenty of design issues, I think, including significant camera and control troubles, but these wouldn't stop me from labeling the game as one of the greatest of the last generation and a true work of brilliance. Sometimes we have to think optimistically. In a technology and Internet world rife with dissenters, including highly critical gamers, we have to support our games and industry. If you think back to memories of Goldeneye 64 or Perfect Dark, you're not going to remember the fairly obnoxious control scheme, because the game was freaking amazing and offered something truly fun, something you cherish from your childhood memories. Its alright to think optimistically, to look at how the game makes you feel on the whole. Of course, games would be better without bugs, but that's basically impossible with the amount of complexity in games these days. Sometimes we can look at the greater vision and just enjoy what the game has to offer.
Images from 1Adventure
Article at the Guardian via Kotaku

Thursday, November 13

Mirror's Edge 2D!

Mirror's Edge is now in 2D! Or at least in beta. The game comes courtesy of Borne Games, most famous for their flash phenomenon, Fancy Pants Adventure. The project is also described as "a collaboration" between Borne Games and EA, meaning its officially sanctioned. But enough babble; this game freaking rocks. Its just pure fun. And the screenshots can't possibly do the awesomeness justice. The animation is impactful, fluid, and invigorating. Playing this game makes you feel cool. Jumping feels and animates perfectly, particularly when you hit the peak and do this mid-air feet plant and start arcing back down.
The music wasn't working in game for me; maybe its true for everyone, I don't know. But I set the Mirror's Edge Remix album in the background and it jived quite well. Something else: I was half-way through the level before I realized that I was playing Mirror's Edge in third-person. Unfortunately, I haven't had a chance to play DICE's Mirror's Edge yet, seeing as how I'm in Italy. But obviously one of the selling points of the feeling of Mirror's Edge is its first-person view, which I applaud whole-heartedly. But Borne Games has adapted ME's gameplay amazingly well in not only third-person but also 2D. The gameplay reminds me of the original Prince of Persia. One more thing, notice how the art design clearly represents to players what is runnable and what is not. I'll be writing up a more thorough impressions of the game once it releases. Be sure toe let me know what you think of Mirror's Edge 2D in the comments.

Invisible Studio Two Year Anniversary!

 
 Today is Invisible Studio's Two Year Anniversary! I see this site as a few things: a way to practice my writing, a way to practice my understanding of game design, and as a portfolio for employment someday. Thank You, Readers!
  
The above comic is from Nedroid, a site that pretty much sums up my life philosophy.

Wednesday, November 12

Further Notes on A Melding of Concepts

1up has posted an absolutely excellent interview with Prince of Persia devs Benn Mattes (producer), and Michael McIntyre (level designer). The interview is long, but covers a ton of topics, including interesting ideas on co-op design, and offers some truly great insight into the minds of these developers and the philosophy of Ubisoft Montreal. I would highly recommend reading the article. But for my purposes, the developers discuss at length the game's level design, which I also discussed in an article a couple of days ago.

Their explanations differ slightly from my own earlier conclusions, particularly the use of the term "linear," but I think the end result is the same. They explain themselves far better than I ever could, so. . .Commence Quotations!

Ben Mattes:
But not sandbox. We literally tried sandbox and it didn't work. We literally had level design that was fully beautified. It was shippable quality -- we had post effects, and everything was working in it. And we brought it to be playtested, and no one got any flow because they were overwhelmed with choice. You still had the ingredient-based controls: A to jump, B to swing off the ring. And yet they'd jump and land on a beam, and then they would just stop, because they didn't know, "Should I swing off of that pole or climb on that ledge or go over to that crack or climb up that wall or drop down to that beam?" So every step was slow, and we weren't getting that flow through the world that we wanted.

Michael McIntyre:
For acrobatics, we wanted them to be Prince of Persia-like, meaning they require inputs -- different inputs the whole way along, not like Assassin's Creed where you hold down buttons and you just flow and go. As soon as we knew we wanted that philosophy, the idea of an entirely open world wasn't working, so that was where we really had to decide to differentiate ourselves with a very controlled open world with a network of designed paths -- that's when things really started working for us on the design side.

Ben Mattes:
Yeah, when we made that decision to go to the network structure, everything just opened up to us. One of the great things about this network structure is I really believe we found the recipe -- I don't know if it's the only recipe, but it's a really good recipe -- for giving the player some of the freedom of an open world game, i.e., "Do I want to go there first or there first or there first?" putting a little more authorship into the hands of the player in terms of the experience they're going to have when playing the game, while maintaining the benefits of an on-rails, hold-your-hand linear game. Because we can more or less be guaranteed that every X number of minutes, you're going to have a relatively major set-piece type of experience, and you're going to encounter something spectacular, and we're going to push the story forward in an important way because of the way the world is organized.

We really think that fans of Drake's Fortune and God of War and Prince of Persia and all those linear action/adventure games who've never played a sandbox game, they're not going to walk into this game and suddenly feel overwhelmed by possibility, because they're still going to have the benefit of Elika's compass power, and the map structure, and the way the world is organized to have a more structured experience. But people who really like the sandbox games should hopefully feel like they're in control a little bit more, so they kind of get to dictate how the game unfolds -- and hopefully, they'll enjoy that element as well.

Interesting stuff, for sure. Ubisoft's priority was on retaining the spirit of Prince of Persia, which meant creating an environment that promoted acrobatic flow. The game hasn't come out yet, but based on everything I've seen and read, I think their final conclusion on level design will prove effective.