02-26-09

Using Walkthroughs: When It’s Not Cheating

How many times have you gotten stuck in an adventure game because you missed one tiny little pixel you somehow neglected to click?  Or because you couldn’t make sense of the convoluted story hinted at within the 300 pages of books and diaries the game expects you to read?  Or maybe you didn’t realize that you were supposed to combine the rope with the rubber chicken (how silly of you) which turns out to be miraculously critical in making your great escape.  It’s hair-pulling moments like these when the temptation to use a walkthrough is at its strongest.  It’s the inevitable ethical dilemma all adventure gamers must face: do I continue to waste hours getting nowhere, or do I take one little peek at the answers?  We’re torn between the desire to feel satisfied in solving puzzles for ourselves, and on the other hand, the desire to merely get on with the rest of our lives.

If you’re like me, you’ll reach one of these maddening impasses and at least try to give it your best shot.  You’ll click and double-click everything, retrace your steps, talk to everyone, and exhaust a good hour or two of playtime before your brain transforms into Jello and your once optimistic powers of reasoning deteriorate into thoughts of obscene and utter contempt for the makers of such mindfucks, that were obviously designed specifically to destroy you.  I’ve been there.

Case in point:  Last night while playing The Black Mirror, I got stuck in William Gordon’s tower study room and for the life of me could not figure out why.  I knew I was looking for a diary, and I knew it would be in this room.  I picked up every object there was to pick up, tried combining items to no avail, and clicked and double-clicked on every square pixel of screen real estate that I could.  Yet the game would not let me leave the room, stating that “I need to explore this area more thoroughly.”  When I realized I had wasted over an hour in this single room, I decided to sacrifice my pride and guiltily consult a walkthrough, feeling stupid and defeated.  And you know what it turns out I was doing wrong?  I needed to right-click on the damn desk drawer to find the secret hidden diary, not left-click it.  (WTF!)  So even though I had already figured out exactly where to go and what to do, an unfortunate technicality prevented my progression.

When it comes to adventure games, I believe there’s a fine line between difficulty and poor game design.

Let’s be honest, game designers sometimes do things that are just plain stupid and/or  make no sense.  And it’s circumstances like the one described above when I will happily consult a walkthrough and not feel guilty afterward.  When we learn puzzle solutions in a walkthrough, we will usually experience one of two reactions:

1. Wow, how could I have missed that!??
2. OMFG that is SOOOOO stupid!

The first reaction typically leads to feelings of guilt and shame for having looked up the answer.  But if it’s the second reaction, should we feel justified?  I say yes.  Can it really be considered cheating if a game’s poor design or quirky control system practically requires you to cheat?  (Of course, the only problem is, you won’t know the difference until you’ve cheated…)

So in the interest of restoring everyone’s dignity during our moments of desperation, I’d like to propose the following:

Using a walkthrough is not cheating when…

• You already know where to go and what to do, but cannot figure out exactly how to do it.
• You discover something important or connect the dots earlier than the game’s protagonist, and you must then do excessive amounts of backtracking to bring your less intelligent alter-ego up to speed.
• Terrible control or interface designs make otherwise easy tasks exceedingly difficult.
• The game has known bugs that inhibit progression.
• Excessive use of red herrings featured in the game.
• Puzzle solutions turns out to be almost completely illogical, with no prior clues given for how to go about solving them.
• Solution requires combining two completely unrelated objects in a nonsensical fashion to become keystone of epic McGuyver-like proportions.

I remember playing adventure games before the Internet.  Before walkthroughs, before GameFAQs.  Before you could just Google a description of the exact part of the game you were stuck on and be met with hundreds of detailed, pictorial solutions.  Those were the days.  You felt a real sense of accomplishment when you completed games.  Nowadays it’s far too easy to Google up the answers, or worse, unintentionally stumble upon cheats and spoilers posted online.  I guess one solution could be to avoid the Internet completely while you’re playing a game, but let’s be realistic here.  These are the reasons why I’m thankful for sites like Universal Hint System which is helpful without giving too much away.  After all, the very reason we play adventure games is because we enjoy games that reward us for our cleverness and intuition, not punish us with frustration and feelings of inferiority.

02-20-09

A love letter to the Sega Genesis/CD

Remember the sheer awesomeness of Sonic the Hedgehog?  Remember how great the 6-button controller was?  Remember Sega Visions magazine?

I got my first glimpse into that 16-bit world one summer when my older cousin came to visit and brought along his shiny new Sega Genesis.  All I knew at the time was that it wasn’t a Nintendo, the only console I’d ever really known.  The Sega Genesis was black and mysterious, almost as if it were intentionally designed to be in stark contrast with the pedestrian light gray of Nintendo.  I had no concept of graphics, hardware, or these things called “bits.” I just knew video games were fun to play.  But when my cousin showed me those early Genesis games for the first time–games like Golden Axe and Alex Kidd–my world changed.  These games looked like nothing I had ever seen before.  I vividly remember the first time my cousin and I played Altered Beast.  The characters looked real. The sound effects used real voices (POWER UP!).  It blew my little 7-year-old mind.  Suddenly my Nintendo games seemed boring and amateur.

And you must admit, the graphics were amazing for 1990.  It was at a time when most kids had never heard of Sega Genesis, and if they did, their parents probably couldn’t afford to buy them one.  And if they could, good luck convincing them it was somehow different or better than “that Nintendo you already have.”  Lots of begging and tons of chores later, I was one of the proud but few kids in my neighborhood with a Sega Genesis.  When I went to the local video rental store (this was before Blockbuster), I was one of the handful of customers who had any reason to go near the small but brand spanking new selection of Genesis games.

Two years later, Super Nintendo arrived.  And inventiably, us kids were divided on whose video game system was superior. (Funny how some things never change.)  The lucky kids had both.  The rest of us were forced to choose one or the other.  The Super Nintendo kids were the softies, the kids with the “toy” console.  Us Sega kids were the hardcore gamers, the ones with the console that actually showed blood in Mortal Kombat.  Choosing your alliance was critical to your social status and geek cred, and I defended my console’s honor with a noble fist.  A side-by-side screenshot comparison of every single game looked more realistic on the Genesis, and that was all the justification I needed.  And though years later I eventually did get a Super Nintendo (and yes it was a great console) for the majority of the 1990s I was first and foremost a Sega girl.

Remember this?

Naturally when the Sega CD came out, I knew I had to have that too.  And like the Genesis, the Sega CD blew me away with its graphics and sound.  Video games on a compact disc?  Sega has always been ahead of its time.  (Their experimentation and forward thinking is perhaps the reason for where they’re at right now, but that’s another blog post for another time.)  Before Playstation, even before the Panasonic 3DO, us Sega CD owners were playing massive games with full-motion video and CD-quality sound.  The Sega CD is also the console (or should I say pseudo console) that really ignited my love for adventure games.  Willy Beamish, Snatcher, Rise of the Dragon; no other console was putting out games like these.  I remember lusting after the CDX, one of the first multi-purpose consoles on the market.

Although it eventually became unpopular, I kept right on playing my Genesis/CD, even when the games began to disappear from that local video rental store.  There were so many great games, the console kept me playing for a long time after its eventual demise.  Over the years other consoles came and went in my life, and somewhere in between I got Saturn and Dreamcast too.  But my fondest Sega memories center around the Genesis/CD years, which to this day remains my favorite console of all time.

I guess what I’m really trying to say is, I heart you, Sega.  Thanks for making my childhood a little more awesome.

02-13-09

Worst Valentine’s Day Gifts for Gamers

Valentine’s Day is just 1 day away.  So what have you gotten for your sweetheart who loves video games?

Stuck for ideas? There’s a ton of good blog posts out there recommending awesome V-day gifts for the special gamer in your life.  Great stuff like  this, any of these, and (my personal favorite) this.

But for all the great Valentine’s Day gifts for gamers, there’s a whole lot of bad ones.  And bad Valentine’s Day gifts can lead to crying, shame, and the withholding of sex.  Lucky for you, I’m here to help you avoid such pitfalls by reviewing some of the worst gifts possible.  This is especially helpful for you non-gamers who know you want to get your Valentine something gamer-related, but have no idea what NOT to buy.   And if you’re a gamer yourself, you should know better.

Warning: Giving your significant other any of the following items for Valentine’s Day may result in a swift and immediate breakup.

Wii Fit

There’s nothing like giving your partner a Valentine’s Day gift that not so subtly suggests they should lose some weight.  While I don’t think it’s quite as bad for a girl to give this to her man, I do pity the guy who makes the mistake of buying this for his girlfriend, especially if she didn’t ask for it. Getting a Wii Fit is analogous to receiving a bathroom scale, which, FYI, usually tops the lists of worst Valentine’s Day gifts.  Even if your intentions are completely innocent, stay on the safe side and just assume that on some level, whether subconsciously or not, she will get offended.

Generic Game Systems

For gamers, there’s nothing quite as disappointing as receiving a generic game system as a gift, especially if you had your heart set on a real one.  You know the ones I’m talking about–they’re the no-name “all in one” consoles with built-in games that QVC tries to pawn off on clueless moms around the holidays, or the Brand X game systems that resemble controllers collecting dust in some bargain bin at Toys ‘R Us. They’re easy to identify because A) they’re cheaply priced; B) they usually say things on the box like “you’ll never need to buy another game again!”; and most recognizably C) THEY DON’T FUCKING SAY “NINTENDO”, “XBOX”, or “PS3″ ANYWHERE!  Nobody, I repeat NOBODY wants one of these worthless pieces of shit as a gift on any holiday, let alone Valentine’s Day.  Avoid!

Stupid Gamer T-Shirts

There’s a lot of cool gamer t-shirts out there, but also plenty of uncool ones.  If you plan on getting some geeky gear for your favorite gamer, make sure you at least buy one that doesn’t make them look like a complete douchebag.  As a general rule of thumb, you should avoid anything that says “1337.”  Also terrible are shirts based on shitty games, shirts boldly proclaiming how much you “pwn” (unless of course you really don’t, and you’re just trying to be ironic), unfunny custom design jobs that nobody understands but you, or perhaps this shirt.

Rock Revolution

Also known as the game that ISN’T Rock Band or Guitar Hero.  So if your BF/GF had their heart set on either of these games for Valentine’s Day and you get them Rock Revolution instead, congrats, you fail.  It’s almost like the developers deliberately made this game to trick naive people into buying it thinking it’s one of the other two.  The tracklist is surprisingly not horrible, but hardly any of the songs are performed by original artists.  The game has also received terrible reviews from most critics and game sites.  Compared to Rock Band and Guitar Hero, Rock Revolution is undoubtedly the red-headed stepchild.

Plug ‘n’ Play TV Games

These little one-trick ponies are a close cousin to the aforementioned Generic Game Systems, and they come in a wide variety of games ranging from crappy to crappier.  These are the kinds of video game products you buy for someone that only likes or has ever played one video game in their entire life (usually Tetris), your grandmother who only knows how to play card games, or young children who you don’t yet trust enough not to fuck up a real console.  These plug ‘n’ play devices are typically very gimmicky, with product designs that go out of their way to let you know what game you’re playing, and uncomfortable controllers. While there are SOME decent retro plug ‘n’ play devices that mimic classic game consoles, they usually have exceptionally shitty controllers and/or a limited library of built-in games. The only time it’s acceptable to buy one of these toys is if you’re unable to acquire a real Atari or Commodore 64 and are desperate to play your old favorites.  Buy your Valentine the real thing instead!

Hope I saved you from a sex-less Valentine’s Day!

02-11-09

Coraline: A modern day Wizard of Oz

Coraline is one of those movies I knew I would love before I even knew anything about it. Between being written by fantasy god Neil Gaiman, directed by Henry Selick (The Nightmare Before Christmas), and featuring dark and dreamy stop-motion visuals, it just had my name written all over it. Nevermind that I had never read the story*. I knew I had to see this movie the moment I heard about it.

And I was not disappointed.

From beginning to end, Coraline is an absolute delight on the eyes and ears. It was sort of like watching the inhabitants of a Victorian dollhouse come alive and invite the entire toy box over for tea. Every character was lovably quirky, funny, and memorable; including the personalities of the not-always-inanimate objects. Even the voice acting of Dakota Fanning and Teri Hatcher, two actresses whom I ordinarily don’t care for, was very well done. I found myself so absorbed that it didn’t even occur to me which famous person I was listening to, which is one thing I typically dislike about animated films–I tend to hear the celebrity, not the character.

And the visuals were top-notch, as usual, which seems to be standard for all of Henry Selick’s pictures so far. Kudos to LAIKA animation studio and the hundreds of talented people who brought the world of Coraline to brilliant life.

But Coraline isn’t just eye candy. Like most of Gaiman’s stories, Coraline has a good message, and delivers it with a bit of clever wit wrapped in childlike intrigue. Moviegoers may find Coraline’s storyline similar to Mirrormask, another of Gaiman’s stories-turned-movie, in which a young girl becomes disenchanted with her life and parents, escaping to a dreamworld where the grass seems greener at first, but soon discovers it to be a warped and nightmarish version of her own reality.

I’ve seen some critics already refer to this movie as a classic, and I don’t think I would disagree with that. In many ways, the story of Coraline is reminiscent of another classic, The Wizard of Oz. And like Dorothy, Coraline reminds us that there’s no place like home.

*Note to the book Nazis: Coraline is pretty faithful to its source material.