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Greg Kasavin Executive Editor |
Shock Value
We're inherently more connected to games than we are to the movies or shows we just get to sit back and watch. This connection between the player and the game opens up a world of yet-untapped potential--a world in which game designers can, and I think should, routinely try to mess with our heads.
Forget slasher flicks. Games are the future of shock value for the sake of entertainment. We all understand what makes games different from everything else--we get to control the action onscreen, which in a way makes us become a part of what's happening in the world of the game. It helps that games are relatively time-consuming. After a while, we start to get all comfy with our favorite games. None of the bad guys can stop us. None of the cars can pass us. What better time for the game to take us for a spin, leaving us reeling?
Let me put it another way: What's one of the best feelings you can get from a game? The feeling that you've yet to see everything the game has to offer. The feeling that, if you keep on playing, you'll keep seeing something new. Back when I was much more seriously into playing various fighting games, this was one of the chief reasons I was so interested in them. I'd constantly be finding (or find myself on the receiving end of) new combos, tactics, and strategies. These games had real depth. But, games that are set up to occasionally shock the player are more likely to provide this feeling than most other games.
Last year's Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem is probably the best, most obvious example of a game that goes for pure shock value. I don't mean "pure shock value" here in a horror-movie kind of way; I mean Eternal Darkness does a great job of throwing surprises at you and keeping you on your toes. The fact that it's a horror-themed game is purely incidental. Some weeks ago, Andrew and I were talking about our favorite examples of the game's "sanity effects"--surprising little moments that, in the context of a game about characters worried that they're going crazy, are supposed to make you, the player, wonder if maybe you aren't going a little batty yourself.
Some of the sanity effects in Eternal Darkness were goofy. Early in a game, you could get a "To be continued!" screen, making you think that the adventure was already over when it was just hardly getting started. The game would occasionally crash to a Windows 95-style "blue screen of death." Even though Eternal Darkness was a very grim game, and even though I wasn't tricked by the vast majority of these and other sanity effects, I found this stuff to be incredibly funny and creative, if nothing else.
The game did get me once. I went to save my progress...but rather than save my progress, the game reported to me that my saved games had been deleted. This was maybe three quarters of the way through the game. For a moment, I freaked out. Then, of course, I realized what was going on. Har, har.
But, you know what? Of all the thousands of hours I spent playing games last year, that's one of only a relative few specific moments that I can vividly remember. And, as much as I enjoyed most things about Eternal Darkness, it was that specific moment that made me feel so rewarded for having played that game. No other game has ever given me that particular feeling before. Except for maybe a few PC games in which my saves actually did get deleted, but that's another story.
The problem with games is that, for the most part, you can learn them front to back in much less time than it takes to actually finish them. Sure, there's a lot to be said for making a game as accessible as possible. As I so like to prattle on about, there's nothing especially fun about having to learn the mechanics of a game, if they're complicated. No matter whether we prefer deep, complicated role-playing games or pick-up-and-play action games, we ultimately all prefer for games to do a good job of allowing us to figure out all the elements of play at our own pace.
But I'm not talking about accessibility here. I think more games should save a little unpredictable something for the end, for the middle, for when you load up your saved game, whenever. Make me wonder who the main character really is. Make me wonder what, exactly, it is that I'm accomplishing with my actions. Later, make me realize what I've done. Then, make me realize I was mistaken. The recent Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, an excellent game in every way, offers a very satisfying conclusion that clears a few things up. Right at this moment, I'm in the middle of playing Rockstar North's violent stealth action game, Manhunt, which had me very intrigued from the very beginning, along these lines. Who am I and what am I doing? I have no idea, right now, how Manhunt will pan out. It might end up leaving a lasting impression on me, but it has certainly made a great first impression.
GameSpotting: Stealth Kill
This week's GameSpotting is indisputable proof that the folks who work here are not actually human beings, but rather the results of some botched experiment where someone attempted to fuse a human with an Atari Jaguar or something.






