GameSpotting: Reader Revue
This week's GameSpotting is brought to you by...well, you.
This week's GameSpotting is brought to you by...well, you. We know you enjoy hearing us talk at least as much as we enjoy hearing ourselves, but the holiday game rush has left our editors cold and tired, and while you're enjoying your Thanksgiving leftovers, our editors will be huddled in sensory-deprivation chambers, desperately trying to rejuvenate their game-worn synapses. So, this week, we leave the ranting, raving, navel-gazing, theorizing, and lamenting on the subject of games to you, the readers. So jump in wherever you see fit, feel free to join the group-therapy session in our forums, and if you too would like a piece of the glory associated with this renowned feature, submit your own GuestSpotting column.
John Dominguez
"I am brought to question various aspects of my life, and, seeing as gaming is a rather big piece of that pie, I must question the validity of my favorite hobby."
Greg Langmead
"I'd pay good money for help overcoming my difficulties with RTS games."
Mark Yohalem
"If the RPG survives, it will survive because it changes."
Eric Peschell
"As long as people buy, the industry will continue to serve us with an indefatigable march of games, movies, and music."
Erlend Grefsrud
"Who is the average gamer, and considering that average, where is the industry headed?"
Daniel Moore
"It's been almost 12 years now since the genre as we know it was introduced, and how much significant advancement can you say has been achieved in the field?"
Alex Kain
"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius, and a lot of courage, to move in the opposite direction."
Justin Graham
"It would be great seeing characters like Terra and Celes back in action. Just don't put them in hot pants."
Number One Donkey Kong Jr. Math Fan/GuestSpotter
Anyone can hop on a forum and declare Donkey Kong Jr. Math the greatest game ever conceived, but it takes strong writing chops to make people want to read such an insane diatribe. If you think you have what it takes, read our GuestSpotting FAQ, and submit your own column for possible publication in this glorious feature.
Entertainer, Teacher, Friend: I Salute You
As tends to happen when time passes, I have been getting older. Both physically and mentally I have been maturing, although the latter process has been a bit shakier. But as I grow, I am brought to question various aspects of my life, and, seeing as gaming is a rather big piece of that pie, I must question the validity of my favorite hobby. This question has arisen for me more than once, and again I have answered it in the same manner, and I have come to the same conclusion. In light of this conclusion, I must say this about video games: Entertainer, teacher, friend: I salute you.
How did I come to this conclusion? I simply examined what it is that I get from gaming; what value does it hold for me? I determined that, firstly, games have given me exactly what they were originally intended for: entertainment. The industry is in a constant state of innovation, continuously pushing the bounds of creativity and technology to provide an experience that is, simply put, fun. I have had countless hours of pure fun playing SimCity, Diablo, Soul Caliber, and Half-Life, amongst others, and I cannot imagine that any other form of entertainment could have provided as much of a thrill for nearly as long as a good game of Halo or Battlefield 1942. Another great aspect of gaming can be the challenge. I enjoy being put to the test in games, and the rewards that come with overcoming a challenging game, whether it is a single-player puzzle game or a multiplayer deathmatch game, are enormous. Most of all, games have simply been a source of entertainment that has often filled my time, when I simply had nothing better to do. 
However, time is quickly becoming more and more of a commodity, and I would easily dump my gaming habit were its only purpose to fill an empty time slot in my schedule. But rather than just being meaningless time spent, games have, in many ways, become a great teacher for me. On many occasions, games have possessed me to go and seek out knowledge. Starcraft is the first example that comes to mind. I had heard the terms zealot and Valkyrie before playing the game, but only in passing reference. It was the game that made me want to know. Soon enough I discovered that the Valkyrie was a warrior maiden from Norse mythology and that the term zealot was originally used to describe a particularly passionate Jewish faction. Games have also sharpened my critical thinking, refining my puzzle-solving abilities. So many games in so many different ways have done this. Trying to plan out a perfect highway system in SimCity, solve puzzles in Zelda, and outsmart the AI in Halo have all been experiences in which games have helped me to sharpen my mind. And, of course, games have honed my hand-eye coordination to a razor's edge. Every twitch game I have ever played, from Doom to UT2K3, has helped me quicken my response time. There have been studies that confirm this, but I think most gamers could probably have told you that without needing a research grant.
Then there is the social implication of being a gamer. Over time, gamers have built up an entire community, and it usually doesn't take much to find another gamer in virtually any social event. The level of technological savvy amongst gamers can be very high, so, unsurprisingly, the online gaming community is one of the largest of its kind. Being a gamer has brought me into this community and given me a sense of identity. I frequent message boards and have more than once been involved in a clan of some sort. Games are able to connect people in a way that may not be unique, but in a way that is certainly very accessible. I have felt the same camaraderie while playing a game of Battlefield 1942 or Counter-Strike as I have while paintballing, but without the need to actually go anywhere. What is amazing is that a person can hop into an online game and develop that sense of companionship with a group of strangers so quickly. Still, anonymous online gaming has its drawbacks, and there is no substitute for the tension of facing your enemies in the flesh.
It's hard not to see that games have more to offer than just mindless fun. Video games have become a large part of modern entertainment. They're certainly not going to rid the world of books or movies, or eliminate the desire for outdoor activities (though, I doubt if many would object to real violence being replaced with virtual violence). Films and novels have their place, but games are just as deserving of my time as anything else, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Help me be a winner!
I have a long-standing issue with real-time strategy games: I suck at all of them. For me, a fun game is a complete experience, a compelling design with a great concept that's woven through all the game's layers. The tragedy for me is that RTS games very often meet these criteria (Rise of Nations, Age of Empires, and Starcraft are good examples), and I continue to buy them and get frustrated.
Yes, I'm a loser, but my loss could be someone else's gain. My purpose here is to introduce an idea that I hope catches on: game coaches. I'd pay good money for help overcoming my difficulties with RTS games. Why would I do such a thing? For one thing, to attain the level of immersion the developers worked so hard to give me, I need to get further in the game and learn how to work with advanced units I never get to build (having lost already). Some of the depth and balance that I know is lurking in there is hidden from me. Secondly, not all my friends and family suck at games, and I want to play at their level so we can all have more fun. Although I wish there could be a third reason, where I pretend paying for a coach helps me get a proper return on my $50 investment, in all likelihood the economics won't work out--a coach will be at least as expensive as the original game in order to provide the level of teaching I'm talking about. But the good news is that the skills a coach can help develop can be applied to more than one game.
A person, not a manual
Strategy guides can only offer a limited number of tips, and normally they only contain utterly unhelpful raw data anyway (for example, giant lists of units and spells). Downloading saved games that you can play back and interact with (as in Warcraft III) is a great way to learn, but the challenge is still, as always, in the execution. Seeing someone else do something difficult doesn't really get the viewers much closer to doing it themselves--if it did, I'd be great at RTS games, and I'd be a revered home-run hitter.
My own struggles begin midway through most game sessions, when the number of choices becomes very large. There are so many ways to spend your resources, and a balanced approach is rarely a good idea. There are resource-gathering units to build, military units to build, and tech-enhancing buildings to build. I rarely tackle these in the right ratio and often get swarmed by opposing units. If I do manage to build up an army and send it out to attack an opponent, then eventually all those units are destroyed and I find myself poor and defenseless.
What I need is an experienced coach (tutor, really) to play with me, either against me or on the same team, or maybe in a special mode where they can see into all my buildings and monitor what I'm doing (some recent RTS games offer this "observer" feature). This person would come to understand where I'm going wrong. Maybe I'm hesitating to take risks because I haven't done enough reconnaissance of the enemy's weaknesses--a good coach could tell me that. But more than that, they could steer me in the right direction by showing me a new approach that works for me. I've taught math at the college level for years, and I know my problems could be addressed by someone with a good understanding of the game who is also a good teacher. A couple of solid hours of directed playing would do wonders for me.
I even envision the developer, or maybe the publisher, helping set some of this up, in the form of a certification system with some sort of guarantee of quality, or at least a Web site to house all the info and get people connected with coaches. Once they have a few good people, the organizers could pay some of them to recruit more tutors from among the ladders on the multiplayer servers. There are lots of existing models for running a tutoring service, where problems have already been solved, like how much of a cut the tutor gets, what fair incentives for recruitment are, and so on. Follow that model and you can't go wrong.
I think games are getting more and more complicated, though I suppose it's possible I'm just getting older and dumber. I don't mind complicated games--I think there's more fun to be had with more complexity, especially if it's well thought out. Plus, with all the map editors and other features meant to give games huge longevity, there's a lot to be gained by becoming a good player. But as with other human endeavors, some people need help to get over a hump or two before they can excel. So get out there, someone, and be entrepreneurial. I'll be waiting patiently, because with your help, I'll be able to kick my brother's butt just like I could back in the day when I was twice his size.
RPGs and the Great Myth
Role-playing games have long enjoyed the status in the eyes of their fans as "thinking games," and they somehow deem the ability to appreciate them as a sign of intellectual superiority. This basic premise is false. It is a useful fiction--particularly for game creators--but it is a fiction that ultimately undermines the foundations of solid gaming, particularly in console RPGs.
I should state now that, for the remainder of this editorial, reference to RPGs will denote console role-playing games specifically, and not PC role-playing games. I should furthermore offer the caveat that I am a semiprofessional RPG story-writer and designer (that is to say, I receive a professional salary for my work, but I am a student first, and a member of the labor force second).
Anyway, as I was saying: RPGs are not thinking games. They are, in fact, the very antithesis of thinking games, insofar as any game can be considered a "thinking game." At the core of them is a combat engine that is based upon repeatedly selecting a single command, without any direct control over the actions of the character. Furthermore, the reward structure of role-playing games encourages mechanical repetition; repetition and rote are antitheses to thought. Leveling--the process of increasing a character's power through repeated non-challenges--is not only allowed, it is encouraged. Hence, players are discouraged from solving situations by using their brain, and they are reduced to ignoring their desire for variety and interaction--they are forced to turn off the creative centers of their brain while "playing." Outside of combat, dungeon exploration is based upon a similar model. The player is not given access to the entirety of the map, and rarely are logical clues to its mazelike structure provided, making navigation a matter of chance at best. Moreover, by hiding treasure down random paths, the player is again encouraged not to seek the solution to the maze, but rather to seek out all the dead ends first. He effectively is punished for finding the best route.
One can argue against the various unthinking elements of RPGs by citing counterexamples, such as the puzzles of the Lufia series or the minigames of the later Final Fantasy games. But these elements are almost universally out of tone with the rest of the game. And they tend to be bafflingly at odds with the theme, style, and pacing of the game--can it really be that every dangerous place in the world is filled with crates to push and tiles to flip, or that, as the end of the world draws nigh, heroes would pause for a competitive card collective game? Moreover, they are clearly pasted on, Band-Aid solutions for a systemic disease.
RPGs, traditionally, held a lock on the storytelling aspect of video games. With a few exceptions (Ninja Gaiden, for example), older console action games made no effort to offer a coherent, developing storyline. But this historically unique condition no longer holds water. During the period in which RPGs monopolized storytelling, they did so fantastically poorly. Even compared to the pulp fantasy paperbacks that one can find at any bookstore, the plots of even the RPG "greats"--the Final Fantasy games, for example--seem rather dismal. The dialogue ranges from acceptable to atrocious (not even considering the butchery done by translators), and the plots themselves are so rife with clichés as to be laughable.
By the time RPGs evolved to the point of offering serious, mature plots--which are still rather inferior to those of any other storytelling medium--other games had begun to do the same. Action games such as Metal Gear Solid demonstrated an ability to offer a superior plot without the tedious RPG conventions (inane townsperson dialogue, lengthy expository speeches). Any claim to preeminence in regard to storytelling seems tenuous, but even if one grants RPGs the blue ribbon for stories, a greater question remains.
Do stories matter? Yes. Do they matter enough to justify bad gameplay? No. A game is a game is a game is a game. If it cannot offer gameplay, then it is not a game. At that point, for it to succeed as a storytelling medium, the RPG must be comparable to other such media: books, movies, TV shows, comic books, and so forth. Almost certainly in this regard they fail, as the pacing, depth, and nuances of both the story and its exposition onscreen are inferior to competing media.
Consider, then, the flight of RPGs from RPGs.
The most popular RPGs of recent times have all boasted "innovative gameplay" and "new takes on an old genre." Vagrant Story abandoned random combat, gold acquisition, townsperson dialogue, party members, and the traditional RPG combat system. Chrono Cross abandoned leveling and random combat. Moreover, almost every "traditional" RPG has tried to hide its shoddy gameplay under a veneer of minigames; no series is more shameless about this than Final Fantasy.
On the one hand, there is this disappearance of the RPG qua RPG. On the other hand, there is the depressing cosmetic surgery that the "traditional" RPGs inflict upon themselves. The lengthy Guardian Summons of Final Fantasy, the prerendered and noninteractive worlds, and the reliance on FMV as a means of developing a story all point to this lack of confidence in the inherent nature of the product.
This lack of confidence in the genre itself lends a special edge to those games that employ eye candy most gaudily. To a casual gamer, or even an experienced one, lousy gameplay has become a given; all that is left to seek out is graphical excellence.
The RPG offered up its wisdom when it was needed and yet refuses to ride off into the sunset. It brought storytelling to games, which, when executed in conjunction with solid gameplay, is a plus. If the RPG survives, it will survive because it changes; if it changes as drastically as games like Vagrant Story have alluded, is it still appropriate to refer to it by its inherited name? Either way, the traditional RPG is no longer viable. It offers nothing except nostalgia and the opportunity to indulge in the elitist conceit that because these games aren't played by the masses, playing them must bestow some special honor. It does not.
Caught Beneath the Avalanche
The entertainment industry as a whole is beginning to overwhelm me. I find that no matter how many DVDs I put into my Netflix queue or how many games I try to cover, I can't even begin to make a dent in the industry's barrage of entertainment material. I mean, it used to be Mario Bros. and Duck Hunt. Welcome to the era where Hollywood and the titans of gaming pull in revenues that better the GNP of most countries in the world. From every angle you will find an onslaught of choices with which to frivolously waste time at any given moment of any day. And from the looks of it, there is no end in site. As long as people buy, the industry will continue to serve us with an indefatigable march of games, movies, and music.
I used to roll my eyes when a sequel would follow an already horrible movie, thinking that such a follow-up would surely end in a revenue disaster for the producing companies. Even further amazing to me were the so-called "critics" who somehow ended up giving the movie a "two-thumbs-up." Then, somehow, I find myself one of the many shuffling into the same theater, proving that I might not be as savvy as I thought, having succumbed to the relentless marketing flash and hubbub. Whatever the case, the gaming industry and movie industry appear to mirror each other's behaviors, especially where producing in quantity is favored over quality is concerned. The sheer volume of choices available amazes me. I am reminded of the scene from The Matrix where Neo says, "Guns, lots of guns," except in this situation, walking into your local electronics store and saying, "Games, lots of games." In a much less thrilling experience, you suddenly find yourself surrounded by a numbing aisle after aisle of games. All wrapped in shiny boxes, and assuredly each having a "thumbs-up" or "9/10" rating from somewhere.
Wading through this sea of boxes, it's often difficult to find "the right game"; there are just so many choices. Oftentimes a game will be a clone of one you already own, except this one is wearing a deceptively shinier box, and with a new title! Oh Boy! Since it is new, it must be better! While I'm on the subject, how many times can the industry milk WWII for yet another era-themed shooter? Is it really necessary to release a new Madden every year? I mean, I might buy Madden 2004, but only because I feel like I am getting a game from the future. Then there are the truly stellar titles--the ones that somehow make it to store shelves, despite an amazing lack of redeeming qualities. Spending nine bucks to see a flop movie sequel is one thing, but plopping down 50 for a game that could end up underneath a cold drink on your desk is an expensive way to buy coasters.
So I turn to the reviews; the credible ones of course. I want to know where my cash should go and be warned of what titles are hiding their meager frames behind a shiny box and flashy screenshots. I want to know who the innovators are--you know the ones. These developers make games that don't reuse the same ol' story, with the same ol' types of characters, using the same ol' 3D engine that has been worn by so many titles. Funny thing is, in my quest to find perfect titles, I spend more time reading reviews and less and less time playing. For every game, there is a review to be read. Instead of wading through boxes, I now wade through the sea of reviews.
I appreciate the effort though, on behalf of the likes of GameSpot, to divvy up the industry and give credit where credit is deserved. I think they do an outstanding job. I just find myself reeling from trying to keep up with the Joneses, who are busier now than ever before--I stand awash in this myriad of choices. Nonetheless, even in my intimidated state, my appetite remains strangely insatiable. Thus, my Netflix queue remains well-buffered, my pockets full of torn movie stubs, and my quest for great games will assuredly end in many a wasted dollar on games that don't deserve it. This, after all, is precisely what the industry wants. As long as you check your dollars at their doors, they will only care enough to keep the profits coming. I only wish they cared more about what comes out those doors.
Overestimating the Market, or: Is Intellectual Property God?
On a day-to-day basis, doom is spelt unto the gaming industry as a creative business. EA, once a pioneer of video and computer gaming, appears to opt largely for safe-selling franchises and dusty intellectual property. Nintendo temporarily ceases production of GameCube units due to poor sales. Several independent developers with relatively impressive track records are shut down after being cut off by their publishers (Mucky Foot, Lost Toys, Computer Artworks, and more). Most publishers seem to consider original IP (intellectual property) to be risky, and instead of building something original from the ground up, they opt to fall back on safe, established brand names that will easily lure in the more casual gamers.
And while I, as a video game aficionado, would like to shrug these facts off as unfounded allegations, I have to face the awful truth, rearing its head, breathing fire and brimstone: These are facts! It seems to me that the world of video gaming has reached a fork in the road: Either you go with the flow and play FIFA with your pals (this is probably the same crowd who laughs at people queuing up for The Return of the King or thinks S.W.A.T. was a great movie), or you drool over the likes of Killer 7 or Rez (this group being more or less comparable to the guys who discuss the storyline dynamics of Donnie Darko or laugh out loud at Kill Bill). One of these paths is accessible and inclusive, one of them is not--suffice it to say, I'm having a hard time finding someone to discuss the finer points of Donnie Darko with. Video gaming as a business is alive and kicking, but video gaming as a creative industry is losing blood by the pint.
These days, the hardcore crowd is largely being ignored. Uninspired original IP, sports titles, and games based on licensed IP dominate the market. It's not entirely baseless to say that the modern hype machine has pretty much divided the market into the casual and the hardcore. This division of the market raises several questions. What happened to the roots of the industry? Who is the average gamer, and considering that average, where is the industry headed? First and foremost, your average gamer buys into hype. Totally. The effectiveness of selling image over content is beautifully illustrated in the marketing of the PlayStation 2 and its (more or less) successful attempt to make consoles equivalent to fashion accessories. Your average casual gamer owns a PS2 and does not know much about what came before it, and does not care much either.
This is where the publishers start overestimating the market. Your average casual gamer does not necessarily appreciate what can be subtle nuances between good games and bad games, both in terms of gameplay and graphics. As long as it ties in to a comfortable genre that they know and maybe features a recognizable brand name, they are content. Movie tie-ins, while being the industry standard for IP, also demand graphical fidelity above the capabilities of many developers, since they are supposed to immerse you into a movie's setting. This means that while the gaming industry is dumbing itself down in terms of creativity and artistry, it constantly demands higher levels of know-how and quality from its developers. How interesting is a movie tie-in if it does not look like the movie? Do you think Enter the Matrix would have sold much had it not emulated bullet time?
But here is a better question: How many people dream of joining a development team in order to create a game based on the next Stallone movie or, for that matter, to make an American Idol game? Probably not too many. With such a dominant amount of licensed intellectual property in games, truly creative talent may even steer away from the gaming industry because it does not offer the kind of freedom that most other entertainment industries do. This comes down from the industry leaders themselves, with most publishers showing little interest in breaking new ground and elevating video gaming to something more than a testament of modern computing power and the evident might of the franchise. Though, ultimately, it's the game-buying public that should be held responsible, as we're the ones validating this thought process.
If the game-buying public doesn't stand up and demand it, why would publishers really have any kind of interest in ushering a new evolutionary step for video games? As it is now, squelching the creativity of the industry and rewarding lack of ambition appears to be quite sufficient, since it appears that all you really need to succeed as a publisher is a healthy (extreme?) sports franchise and the occasional hype-fueled "Halo-killer." The casual gamer demands little more. And the market is casual.
If you look to the movie business, you will see that former art house distributors such as New Line and Miramax have earned themselves huge market shares. These companies built their reputation on interesting, original material and young, promising directors. Their movies spread via independent film festivals rather than big-money trade shows. Maybe our industry needs to look to this evolutionary model rather than the get-rich-quick model? Maybe the industry needs to face facts and realize that the gaming industry, being a creative business, has more in common with Hollywood than the consumer electronics business that Sony so vigorously profiles it as. Is a consumer show such as E3 really the place to market your games as art and entertainment? Wouldn't game-focused events along the lines of the Sundance Film Festival, in which the movies are more central than their distributors, serve developers more in presenting their creative vision to the world?
This said, though, the gaming industry is young. It still needs to develop, but it appears that the business as a whole is going through its second creative drought in less than 20 years, which is alarming. The reason the market collapsed in the mid-'80s was that publishers and developers alike overestimated the demand for games based on licensed IP and underestimated the more loyal, hardcore crowd. Those misconceptions cost the industry dearly, stalling its development for half a decade and killing off nearly all the independent developers. While it is highly unlikely that this will happen again, thinking outside the box never hurt any business particularly, and considering how the video gaming industry is developing, it might be the only way for it to truly break out of its current trend and reach some greater potential.
How can this utopian vision come to pass? Well, you might want to pick up Viewtiful Joe rather than Tiger Woods 2004 the next time you plan on shelling out for some video game goodness, and maybe, just maybe, someone will realize just why you did that.
The Ascent and Descent of the RTS Genre
Do any of you out there recall Westwood's incredible, original, groundbreaking release, Dune 2: The Building of a Dynasty? For the benefit of the youngbloods out there, let me shatter a small myth. Command & Conquer, albeit an incredible game, was not the first game to introduce the fundamental formula used (to the point of saturation) to this very day in the genre we know as real-time strategy. It was Dune 2 that set the initial bar and paved the way for future releases that captivated so many of us for so many hours.
But that alone is not the only piece of misinformation regarding the RTS genre. There are a lot of strange occurrences and disturbing comparisons that just have to be made, to save the minds of future gamers who will undoubtedly lend their undying support to the gaming industry by buying more RTS titles. Only you can stop the market from regurgitating the same old titles, and maybe even encourage it to make a few nudges in the right direction.
The Problem
Look at RTS titles over the years. It's been almost 12 years now since the genre as we know it was introduced, and how much significant advancement can you say has been achieved in the field? Advancements in graphics hardly count as specific improvements--strategy games may benefit from advances in technological prowess, but they're certainly not the catalyst for such advances. Maybe a few companies honed down the interface along the way, added a few more minor elements to the gameplay, but aside for cosmetic makeovers, the changes have been kept to a bare minimum.
Name substantial gameplay differences between Red Alert, Warcraft II, KKND, M.A.X, Knights and Merchants...need I go on? These are games depicting completely different worlds, entirely different plots (if applicable), and yet, they all offer roughly the same gameplay. It may look a bit different, but it boils down to the same formula: Settle down, collect, build up, expand, destroy.
Fringed with hope
Some games have come along a considerable way, occasionally transcending the stagnant gameplay system offered by most RTS games. The most renowned is Starcraft, which created a finely tuned and strategically balanced experience and produced a subtle yet significant alteration to the RTS format: Nonparallel units. For those not steeped in the nomenclature, this means that each faction has units unique to them, whose function is not mirrored by a similar unit in another faction. This allowed for a very enriching strategic experience, despite the fact that you still collected resources, built units, and expanded. Coincidentally, nonparallel units helped keep Starcraft interesting for an obscene amount of time.
Another fine example of a terrific, outstanding RTS game is Homeworld, which introduced a fully realized 3D environment and a refreshingly different game experience. It did adhere to the basic collect-and-build RTS formula, but it handled so much differently, thanks to an unusually compelling storyline and a combat system that became increasingly more dynamic.
A third example, just to top off this pie of hope on the platter of RTS gaming is Shogun: Total War. A seemingly ordinary strategy game encased in a cute yet somewhat unimpressive 3D engine, its interestingly designed overhead conquering campaign actually provided a nice change of pace. Being able to implement general diplomacy, handle vast districts across Japan, and move armies across regions all came together to let you make strategic campaign decisions, adding a lot to the game.
But still a problem
While there have been unusual bright spots on the RTS gaming scene, the overall look of it is pretty grim. Most games offer very little when it comes to revitalizing the genre, and eventually they even fail in rekindling old interests that faded away when we let go of Command & Conquer and Warcraft. It's true that games like Starcraft, Homeworld, Shogun, and a few select others offered a bit more, but seeing how there are dozens of titles clinging to the same genre, we should be able to expect more.
This can be illustrated beautifully with some of the latest titles that have struck gold in the market. Take the recent Command & Conquer: Generals, for example. Why people cling to it as though it were a marvelous strategy gem is beyond me. In my experience, it's simplistic and incredibly easy, it offers a very poor plot, and its multiplayer options are quickly exhausted. The dearth of interesting strategies leads to games which are won by the person who can expand the fastest, rather than the person who has the sharpest strategic thinking. Or, how about Age of Mythology? It may offer a rather immersive plot, but it's not enough to offset the game's otherwise rote formula of build up, collect, etcetera, etcetera. The addition of god powers does surprisingly little to shake away the feeling that we've been through this before.
Conclusion
If individual gamers want something more than the same game in a different box, we're going to need to stop, and we're going to need to be active about it. If companies saw that gamers weren't buying all the rehashes, it might just encourage them to stop making them and approach the genre from a different angle. You all saw what a hell storm Starcraft left in its wake, and while it's not simple to re-create, isn't that the challenge of it all? Isn't it worth it?
The Future Is When!?
"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius, and a lot of courage, to move in the opposite direction." --Albert Einstein
Whoa--and Albert Einstein never even got to try out video games! Despite this handicap, it seems that ol' Einy managed to accurately predict the current state of the game industry. In an age when developers and publishers are attempting to push the limits of interactive entertainment, the gaming masses seem to have forgotten just what it is they enjoy about video games these days.
Yeah, you heard me right--I think the people have forgotten why they play video games. This has essentially split the industry into three groups:
1. The developers who take some old stuff that sold well and change it around a bit so it will turn another profit.
2. The developers who make games that rely heavily on obscenity and violence.
3. The developers who put out the artsy games that tend to not sell very well.
We're in need of a good old-fashioned gaming revolution. I looked to Einstein himself, whose sage advice opens this little column. More than half a century after saying it, this little nugget of wisdom remains true and readily applicable. We can churn out more and more violent and obscene games in the vein of GTAIII, but it's not going to advance the form. Sure, it's broadening the gaming audience, but are these developers really changing anything fundamental about the way we play video games, simply by just making them more violent? Things aren't much better for those with a purported desire to see electronic entertainment regarded as more than just cheap, visceral thrills. The game most often pointed to as an example of games as art, ICO, came out in 2001 and was soundly ignored by the general gaming public. That a 2-year-old game played by a fraction of the gaming community can remain the apex of video game artisanship should make the fact that there's some severe stagnation going on in this industry rather apparent.
While you've got all these gamers who insist that a game isn't a game unless it's got violence and obscene dialogue, I point to the classics in response. Out of this World had no dialogue whatsoever (unless you count the prologue), but it still remains a classic because of its diverse and challenging gameplay. Today it would be dismissed as "too difficult." Torin's Passage had bright and colorful graphics, excellent puzzles, and clever dialogue, but nowadays a game like that would be dismissed as "too kiddy." I find it ironic that the only forward-thinkers are the ones who refuse to change. Nintendo, for example, will never make a violent Mario game. It's not because they hate older gamers--it's because they know (probably more than you) what gamers want: gameplay.
A good game has good gameplay. If it doesn't, then it's not good. End of story. For some odd reason, though, developers still try to tell us that their games are good, despite the fact that they're no fun to play. Case in point: Tomb Raider: The Angel of Darkness. All the ads tried to tell me that "this is a good game!" But it's not. Really, it's not. Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. Now that's a good game. It's actually fun to play, it pushes artistic boundaries, and it's definitely a leap forward for interactive entertainment.
Any old fool can make a violent or obscene game that people will buy (*cough* BMX XXX *cough*), but it takes a true genius to make a game that isn't shocking or reliant on gruesome visuals, but still sells millions of copies. And, thankfully, it actually manages to happen from time to time. Jak and Daxter sold over 2 million copies (at least according to CNN) and didn't require obscenities and violence to get there.
So, in conclusion, folks, the game industry's in a rut. It needs to figure out a few things. First and foremost: Do they want to make better games, or do they want to make more money? GTAIII was revolutionary in its time, which was a good two years ago. Now, my friends, we need to let it go. Realism, freedom, and violence are great, but if we are so eager to play games which emulate the games that preceded them, how will we ever advance beyond what we've already got? There are no answers here, fellow gamers--just questions. When somebody finds an answer, hopefully it'll be priced at $49.99 plus tax and will be getting rave reviews for "revolutionizing the industry yet again."
Square, Give Me a Sequel I Want to See
As a fan of Japanese RPGs, I've played many games from a large number of series over the years, but very few games can claim to have captured my attention (and my free time) as the Final Fantasy series has. My first hands-on experience with the franchise came with the watered-down SNES version of Final Fantasy IV, and the SNES version of Final Fantasy VI (known as FFIII) is easily at the top of my list of personal all-time favorite games. For years, I've looked forward to each successive game in the series, wondering what new stories they would bring, and on occasion, fantasized about how cool it would be to see Square release a sequel to one of the previous games in the franchise.
Cut to October of 2002, when Square released its first screenshots of Final Fantasy X-2. The image of a gun-toting Yuna sporting hot pants painfully seared itself into my retinas. It was like a horrible April Fool's joke made real. Since that time, the more information I've read about the game, the more pain I've felt. Square has taken the wonderful characterizations and themes that had been established in Final Fantasy X and turned them into a Charlie's Angels-cum-J-pop nightmare. Generally, I like to think of myself as open-minded when game designers decide to try something new, but I just can't bring myself to agree with this in any way. As you're reading this, FFX-2 is out on store shelves in North America, but I won't be buying it. I hope Square realizes that by changing the tone and theme of the game to such an extreme, they're more than likely alienating a significant portion of Final Fantasy X's audience.
However, this isn't the end of it. As many of you are most likely aware, Square Enix has plans to release a DVD movie sequel to Final Fantasy VII. I'll admit I'm very intrigued by this, but while it doesn't break my soul like X-2's initial announcement, I'm not jumping for joy, either. Beyond the initial hype and euphoria of Final Fantasy VII oh so many years ago, the game has steadily slid down my list of favorites in the series. The game simply hasn't aged well for me. I still plan to purchase a copy of Advent Children when it becomes available, but as a sequel to a Final Fantasy game, it doesn't excite me the way I think it should.
So what do I want to see? How about a sequel to Final Fantasy VI? With such a well-established setting and the number of great characters it had, in my mind it seems like a great choice. The plot could focus on events occurring as the world continues to rebuild itself after Kefka's defeat, such as the reemergence of the kingdom of Doma, or perhaps a new kingdom that sprouts up to replace the Empire. It would be fun to see how the characters' lives have changed and how the world has gotten along without magic, and if nothing else, it would be great seeing characters like Terra and Celes back in action. Just don't put them in hot pants.
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