Paving over the road to Mecca

Earlier today, I received some news that made me die a little inside. Seriously, that's not a dramatization. If gaming was a religion--which is technically could be--E3 would be its Mecca. Gamers from all across the globe made the trek to LA, in order to catch a glimpse, take a peak, and be graced by the presence of gaming genius. They would cram into a small auditorium, packing it so tight that you could barely move, and become a part of the craziness. It was my dream to, one day, be a part of that craziness; to make that trek, and find myself amongst the masses of sweaty gamers with calloused thumbs. Today, that dream died.

Ok, so that was a dramatization.

I guess it makes sense. I mean, over the years, journalists and publishers alike have become increasingly bitter and jaded towards the whole affair. I guess after doing it over and over every year, the novelty of it dies. Realistically, E3 hasn't been healthy for the industry in a very long time. The whole community seems to stop entirely before and after the thing, with a massive rush of information in a three-day span in between--kind of like the speed up of events after massive lag. The cost of doing business has also increased dramatically for everyone involved, which means setting up events/booths/tech demos has become alot more expensive and even more time consuming. I'm not sure I agree with the idea that it takes away from development time for game publishers--anyone who watched the PS3 press event this year can attest to the fallacy in that argument--but it definitely puts a lot of pressure on them to perform with what they really may not have. It also potentially means a more consistent stream of news year round, though I'll wait to see if that actually happens; I'm extremely skeptical.

But who gives a shit about realism? This was my dream, damn it!

Yeah, that's right, I said it. E3 was my dream. It may be shady, but I didn't care if I had to do the "friend-of-a-friend-who-works-at-EB" thing. The road to Mecca was my destined path, and suddenly it's like it no longer exists. The defining moment for thousands of gamers, that "first time" that no one but us would understand, is suddenly...gone. It's a generation split really. Those who have been, and those who will never be. The latter is where I now sit--which sucks, since I was supposed to go this year.

The penny-pinching from publishers and developers means that, at least in the near future, it will become less of a trade show than more of one. Instead of turning it into something like Comi-Con, and charging people for admission, booths, and closed-door demonstrations, it's becoming what it was originally intended to be: an industry event for industry insiders. Though I find this kind of ironic, because gaming has and always should be about the gamers, not just the gaming "industry". What was once an opportunity for up-and-coming journalists/designers to become part of the elite and test their metal, has now become another isolated event in a line of events designed to keep the John Q. Gamer out, and only let in those who are worthy--in other words, pay them enough.

Then again, who knows. It'll be a few months before any tangible details are revealed. It still hurts though. A lot.

Peace,
Ram

"Well, excuse me while I toot my own horn. Not like anyone else'll do it for me!"

So I am now the second person I know that has been featured on Google News. Unfortunately for me, I was not told of this until a few days later, so I have no visual evidence. But it happened, I tells ya! My Prey review for the Gateway was featured on the front page of Google News, for some undeserved reason. But I'll take any recognition I can get. It got me a bunch of hits on the Gateway site, so it's a good start.

Though, lately I've become very frustrated by the idea of being "in the know." Gaming is a harsh mistress to be taken seriously in, for the simple fact that you always have to be searching, reading, commenting, making sure your voice is heard. You make it your goal to have your questions be "Question of the Week" on whatever podcast/website/magazine you read/listen to. You can never sound stupid; you can never ask questions you don't already know the answer to. Message boards are key. If you don't sound smart, you're a "noob" and no one takes you seriously. I actually had someone say to me, "You don't read fucking Famitsu!?" like it's some sort of crime, or makes me any less credible a candidate for writing about the coveted industry that no one outside our circle really gives a shit about.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not so jaded/lazy as to stop keeping track, paying attention. My friend Jin, who's an aspiring music producer, said to me, "If it's truly your passion, it shouldn't feel like work." And for the most part, it doesn't. But I can't help feel out of my element. Maybe it's because I've only recently begun to take this whole thing seriously; to consider it a viable career path. I just don't like the idea that someone thinks their better than me because they have more entries on a message board; or that I feel less knowledgeable than the guy who has more entries on a message board than I do. But, hey, I guess I'm taking a step in the right direction.

Peace,
Ram

"All American Hot Dickings"

This is so goddam funny. Just...just so fucking funny.

Once again, it's time to kick shell

I, am so, freakin, ready for this.

This whole concept of a CG TMNT movie has been floating around for a little over a year now. At some point Ang Lee was connected to it, I think. Finally, it's seeing the light of day, and from the (very short) sound of it, it's going to be the same voice work as the new TV show.

Which, by the way, I actually like. The people I talk to give it flak for not having a technodrome, or Krang--well, it does technically, but not really--or Dimension X. But the reason I like it is, frankly, because it doesn't have those things. I mean, original TMNT was about Generation X'ers, and cowabunga, and being a wise ass while driving flying convertible. I mean Krang was always like your crazy grandmother, and Shredder was totally portrayed as a "Square". Which was fine, for the early 90's.

But that formula doesn't work anymore. Hell, it barely worked when they made that obviously transitional TMNT II: The Secret of the Ooze, with Vanilla Ice. I think that if they tried to recreate the original series, it would feel like TMNT II: The Secret of the Ooze. TMNT III was alright, though it had one-too-many penis jokes, considering they're turtles.

I think the new series works really well in a lot of ways. Firstly, it has all of the likeable elements of "The Next Mutation"--a short lived live action TMNT show made in '97/'98. While it was a terrible Power Rangers rip off--ironic, since they made a guest appearance on Power Rangers: In Space, the show had good writing, and focused a bit more on mature themes without having to throw in cock jokes or anything like that.

What the new TMNT does best is have long-standing story archaic. There are plenty of characters that show up every so often that are really interesting, but there are also ones that are always there, and the relationship the Turtles have with these characters seem to develop everytime. It's sort of like Gargoyles to me in that way, because the writing is really sharp, and keeps the viewers interested and makes them think 'bout it on a deeper level than most cartoons--like say, Duck Dodgers, which is still fucking awesome.

The characters are also a bit sharper. Casey Jones isn't just a random sadomasochist who sports a Jason mask--well, not after the first few episodes--and April O'Neal isn't just some dumb rain-coat wearing bimbo reporter who Lois Lane could eat for breakfast. April is actually smart, and the way they write her and Casey together is perfect. They also did a really smart thing by making Raphael the loose cannon instead of having two wise-asses.

Also, the new TMNT is just on a much larger scale. They've already traveled space a bunch of times, gone to a Battle dimension, and are now apparently heading to the future for the fifth season. This show is awesome, and it actually makes me really happy to know it's out there, because TMNT and Gargoyles are actually two shows that really contributed to my sense of style and geekyness, and I would hope that kids have something other than Spider-Riders and Yu-Gi-Oh-My-God-This-Show-Sucks to watch.

Peace,
Ram

Prey Review

Ten years ago, 3D Realms--the creators of the popular Duke Nukem franchise--announced an ambitious shooter entitled Prey, a game that followed the storyline of a Cherokee man who gets abducted by aliens. At the time, it stunned the gaming community with its ingenious Portal technology, boasting doorways that opened out of thin air and transported you to different parts of the map. Almost a decade later, Prey is finally upon us, and time has done wonders for it.

You play as Tommy, a Native American ex-military brat whose sole wish is to escape the Native reserve he and his girlfriend Jen live on. As he tries to convince her to leave the reserve with him--despite the wishes of his grandfather, who wants him to embrace his Native heritage--the three of them are abducted by aliens and must escape the alien sphere that is wreaking havoc on the earth. The action unfolds around you in real time without any cut scenes, all the while following Tommy's perspective. His struggle is always kept pertinent by his comments on the situations surrounding him during play. Great voice work is also used all around, including an appearance by famed conspiracy nut Art Bell, as himself.

Prey's most unique features are its manipulation of gravity, and, of course, the Portal system. The game toys with gravity in a couple different ways. Some rooms have switches that you can shoot, directing gravity towards whichever wall the switch is on, and others have catwalks that allow you to walk up walls, hang upside-down and disorient you in ways you wouldn't imagine. And, just when you think you've gotten the hang of things, the game throws plenty of obstacles your way, forcing you to combine Portal travelling, wall-walking and gravity flipping in order to make your way through the alien ship. These features also make for some intense multiplayer action, though the limited types of play--death match and team death match--make the multiplayer feel somewhat like an afterthought.

Both of these features fit nicely with the level design and general ambiance of the alien ship. The game makes effective use of the Doom 3 engine to create eerily organic environments and some impressive graphical feats, combined with expansive outdoor settings which you traverse in a shuttle, reminiscent of the old Descent games. Oddly enough, the gravity flipping very rarely feels contrived or out of place. However, the hallmark Portal system is used somewhat ineffectively. Since the game has a linear level design, the Portals are really nothing more than flashy doors'not to say they're unimpressive, but you get the feeling that they could have been a lot more interesting.

The organic design of the game's visuals also takes a hold of the weapons in Prey. Although they're used in the same way as any conventional shooter, almost every weapon in the game seems like it could have a mind of its own. Your grenades, for example, are actually these little insects that explode when you rip off one of their limbs. There's also a chain gun that's literally an alien arm, as well as a leech gun that drains energy from certain energy nodes that provide various types of ammunition. The real beauty behind these weapons, however, is that unlike most shooters, each weapon is only really effective against certain types of enemies, obliging you to think fast when there's more than one kind of enemy coming your way.

Being kept on your toes is good, since there's very little in the way of challenge in Prey. While the action never really lets up during the game, the enemy AI isn't all that sharp. Some of your enemies will take cover or try to grenade you on occasion, but in general they all exploit the Portal system to pop up anywhere and everywhere in large waves. Though it avoids the "monster closet" effect that Doom 3 had, it often feels like the enemies just aren't enough--either that or you were trained in the military for alien hunting.

It also doesn't help that death is sort of a non-event in the game. Early on, Tommy is taught by his grandfather to "spirit walk"--to leave his body and travel as a spirit. This, like gravity flipping, is mostly used as a puzzle-solving device. However, it also allows you to survive death, taking you to a spirit realm where you must shoot at red and blue wraiths to regain your health and spirit before you are transported right back to where you died. This is all done seamlessly, but it also takes away much of the challenge. Death becomes more of an annoyance than any real threat.

Despite these gripes, Prey is still an entertaining game with some unique innovations, an immersive if not borrowed storyline--stick around after the credits roll--and plenty of action to keep you going. While there are certain elements that feel unfulfilled--like the use of Portals, and the rather shallow use of Native American mysticism--Prey is a game I can easily recommend.

Peace,
Ram

"people often underestimate the deadliness of Ben Franklin"

Lately I've come across some heated debates as to whether or not cut scenes are a good way to display a story in video games. It should come as no surprise that this has become a fairly popular topic over the last few months. I mean, just a little while ago, there were many discussions as to whether or not videogames can be considered art. It seems logical that a conversation would arise about the nature of interactive art. Do non-interactive cut-scenes--like FMV's, for instance--pull the player out of the experience as a whole as it attempts to tell a story? Can developers express a deep narrative without slowing down the pace, or removing interactivity? Is there some sort of happy medium?

Cut-scenes aren't new. God knows that the Final Fantasy series wouldn't have been as ridiculously impressive during the Playstation era without it's beautiful FMV sequences--especially Final Fantasy 8. Of course, it doesn't stop at FMV's. Many games now use pre-rendered cut-scenes using the in-game graphics engine--the Metal Gear Solid series being the key example. The purpose of these sequences, for the most part, is to display a gripping story. The argument against it, however, is that it pulls the player away from the game. By removing interactivity from large portions of the game, you are crossing the line between game and movie. The end sequence of Metal Gear Solid 2, for example, was a half-an-hour long period of exposition by the characters, with literally no interactivity whatsoever. It becomes even harder to defend cut-scenes when games like Oblivion, or a better example, Half-Life 2, are able to tell captivating and well written stories without ever taking the control away from the player.

Personally, I am a proponent of cut-scenes. I could never really understand the idea that cut-scenes take away from a game rather than add to it. The thing I love most about the Metal Gear Solid series has from the beginning been its amazing use of the in-game engine to create gorgeous sequences that tell a deep story. Personally, I am a proponent of cut-scenes. I could never really understand the idea that cut-scenes take away from a game rather than add to it. The thing I love most about the Metal Gear Solid series has from the beginning been its amazing use of the in-game engine to create gorgeous sequences that tell a deep story. God knows the game mechanics are nowhere near perfect, and I'd probably argue that the Splinter Cell games are probably more fun to play. But Kojima has always pulled me back in by being a great storyteller. The problem, I think, comes not from creating more of a movie-like sequences--though FF8 certainly gives fuel to that argument--but rather, from games that may have impressive cut-scenes, but on the whole are just really bad games. It'd be much easier to argue for cut-scenes if they didn't so often feel like an attempt at distracting you from how crappy the game actually is.

Now, that's not to say that cut-scenes are a must. As companies like Valve have proven, it is possible to tell an interesting story without taking away control. But to say that cut-scenes are passe, or needless, I think is kind of ignorant. I mean, could you imagine a world without Manny Calavera? Because that’s what you get when you completely ignore games with good cut-scenes. There will always be a place for them, especially if games are to be considered more than just mind-numbing solutions for twitch junkies. I think that they're an essential tool for story-telling in a game, and should always be there.

Peace,
Ram