GameblurgKids Talking About the Future

Playing civilian roles are tough to get excited about. As a current civilian, I run errands, I exercise, I talk to people. During one of these countless “errands” a car could hit me, but I can’t dig into my start menu for a health pack or get up and pull the driver out of his car window and make a mess out of him in the street. Unfortunately, normalcy just doesn’t work like that. Instead, I’m just lying there, rethinking my crossing-the-street strategies.

This is what I fight with while I’m playing Alan Wake. From the beginning, I spotted a normal guy and wondered what will I be able to do other than shine a flashlight at people.

I’m fighting for a reason to love the guy’s shoes I’m in, but I can’t jump behind him. Every occurrence around him is stellar but I’m not causing a good majority of it. The game around me (atmosphere, enemies, non-playable characters) is spectacular but my character is ordinary. A majority of the dialog consists of Alan monotonously narrating the current events of the game. Even Alan’s treks through the woods are plagued with repetition.

I like him, but I don’t want to be him. The main problem with this game is that it doesn’t have enough memorable moments that the player create. The fire fights and fighting flying poltergeists are fun but nothing outstandingly mind-blowing happened to leave me with the impression that I’ve accomplished an enormous feat. They’re all little bits of cute moments that consists of me clearing an area until I get to the next cut scene.

There are so many brilliant moments behind the game: The creepy television series you can follow through the in-game televisions, the weight and depth of the fog and darkness that envelopes my character as I move throughout the environment, the outstanding lighting engine. However, I wanted Alan to be brilliant as well. I wanted my arsenal to be more creative.

It’s worth noting that this game gets incomprehensibly stale through the ending act of the game. A time where my arsenal should be used at full force in new and creative atmospheres was replaced in a familiar run-gun-pause-recover routine that’s stretched over a 20-30 minute interval.

My most memorable gaming moments consists of me doing amazing things. This game doesn’t present an opportunity for me to add anything exciting to this memory bank. Alan Wake is a thriller and executes the chilling effects on ideal levels, but the experience is forgettable. Protagonists in games should blend with the story, not disappear into them and slowly, but surely, Alan’s presence mutates into an irrelevant memory worthy of only a whisper.

I’m in the middle of my 30 seconds of chaos. I’m being surrounded by enemies, but I could care less. Last time I checked, there was a shotgun in my hands. Madly, I sprint in circles, letting my 12-gauge indiscriminately handle my enemies one-by-one. Feeling my blood boil and heart race after my triumph, the smoke settles and I walk into a small room nearby with the hopes of finding spare ammo and suddenly I’m blindsided!

However, this attack is not by another enemy, but by a bothersome barrage of cut scenes. Seconds later, I witness my avatar run into the room, deliver ‘D’ grade dialog about saving the town and pick up a sheet of paper and then play resumes.

The lure for the cut-scene is simple: things look prettier, developers don’t have to waste time testing cut scenes as much as real play, and they eliminate exercises that would threaten to bore the player (driving long distances, conversations, etc.). Opportunities like opening/closing acts present practical usage of cut-scenes, but while playing, our cinematic moments have a tendency to destroy a gaming experience when ill-placed.

These cut-scene-ridden games take place like the following: shoot, scene, battle, scene, battle, longer scene. There’s just something so incoherently stupid about this formula that I can’t comprehend. Imagine a roller coaster. When you’re stuck in your seat throughout the ride, you are being thrown across a loopy obstacle course that’s full of exhilarating highs and lows.

What never happens is the stop of the ride (as long as you don’t aggravate the conductor): you stay on the roller coaster until the end of the ride (unless you’re that sick of your ride/life). Now, imagine an ordinary, fun roller coaster, except every 30 seconds, you’re getting off, the conductor gives you directions on what loops you’ll be going through next, and then you get back on 20 seconds later. Sound familiar?

With careful planning, testing and execution, video games can play out short occurrences and small shocking moments inside of the game itself, and avoid a disconnecting video laced in the gameplay.

There’s an innate problem that cut-scenes have when they’re poorly placed. They disrupt the fluidity that a game should have in it’s goal to keep a player completely involved. What I want is to keep my brain immersed in this gaming activity. What I don’t want is a developer babysitting me on my quest for a piece of paper that’s 5 feet away from my avatar while giving me driving instructions across the island of inevitable, crappy doom.

There are so many problems with cut-scenes, but not enough solutions. What are yours? What do you think convinces developers that these short cinematic moments are a better alternative that in-game interaction?

No matter who you are, you have some sort of skill, talent or hobby that puts your mind into a state of Flow. When you’re here, your aren’t conscious of your focus: the immersion just happens. Some dance. Some play sports. I play videogames.

Blowing buildings up is my equivalent to you dancing in the club with a hyped crowd around you or you hitting that game winning free throw with 0.5 seconds left on the clock in the 4th quarter. Without it, our minds struggle to find another hobby to return the emotional investment that we’ve lost.

When we started Gameblurg almost 2 years ago, I never would’ve thought something as “unimportant” as playing videogames would have such a huge impact on my life, but I’m so proud to know that if I stop playing for months on end, my life seems to fall into a pool of meander tasks and petty errands.

My schedule is hectic like any working student’s. I’ve always had a fast-paced lifestyle, but I used to approach it with the style developers use to design my favorite type of videogame: fast and aggressive. I play games with a plethora of emotional tension and adrenaline rushes and along the way, I honestly believe that that’s dipped into my life outside of videogames.

Lately, I’ve just been dragging around like a sloth because I’ve tried to “slow down”. My work has suffered, this blog has suffered (sorry!), etc. It seems that ignoring what makes my life Flow has turned me into a careful, over-cautious douchebag versus the rigourous, over-aggressive douchebag that I usually am. I don’t know about you, but when my douchebag-status changes, something’s got to change.

All douchebaggetry aside, it’s weird that I havent found a replacement for shooting my friends in the face, but that’s what gives my life the Flow that I need, so fortunately, I’ve got to stick by it. My life is an exploside rollercoaster ride. I adore it, but for some idiotic reason, I jumped off to be “safe”. Needless to say, I’m extremely excited to hop back onto my little crazy train.

Some time ago, we celebrated Microsoft’s Jane Lynch. At the time, we hadn’t seen either Nintendo or Sony make a move to grab a spokesperson and create memorable ads to sell videogames, services, etc. Luckily, I was wrong, or too impatient. So impatient, that if I would have waited a few months, I would’ve seen this guy.

Any guy with a “the” in front of his Twitter name (@TheKevinButler) and the ability to humorously advertise something as useless as the PlayStation Move is welcome with open arms. Contrary to some of our previous words, Kevin Butler almost makes me want to invest in these thing. Almost.

Your turn, Nintendo. I’m sure Katt Williams is still open.

God of War 3 arrives this Tuesday and if you were thinking of picking up a copy anywhere, think no further than going to GameStop.

“Reserve God of War III and receive a GameStop exclusive Phantom of Chaos character skin.”

A character skin? Now we’re talking. Forget all of the other convenient methods like ordering from Amazon.com and having your game delivered to you on game day or just picking my copy up at Wal-Mart while I’m casually grocery shopping: go out of your way for this one-of-a-kind, exclusive gem of a character skin (that you can unlock in the game at some point).

Although the character skins are emphatically soothing, I’d like to make a few suggestions for other astonishing items to give loyal customers as they enter your store and you enthusiastically bombard them with a desperate plea to reserve a title:

• Copies of the box art (Because you can never have too many.)
• Access to the game’s Start menu
• A game manual
• In-game open-toed sandals
• Alternative Heads-Up-Display design
• Cheat codes (What do you think this is? 2010? I doubt they exist online or anything like that.)
• Directions on how to use a game controller

Be careful though; you can’t wait too long to reserve your title. After the release date, the codes for character skins and secret weapons will start spreading like wildfire, so you’ve got to make sure you get your hands on those character skins before anyone else does.

Who cares if you can’t play the game yet? After the game comes out, when your friends come over and see your unprecedented, shiny new costume, you can brag and tell them how and where you got it from. That is, of course, until they go home and surf the internet.

Regardless, GameStop gives you costumes first, and makes you feel really cool, so if you’re thinking about reserving games and not thinking about doing it at GameStop, your priorities are out of touch. Besides, how on earth could you live without those hot open-toed sandals?

What are some rediculous gifts you’ve recieved in exchange for a pre-order at GameStop?

When an artist grabs a paintbrush, whatever hits the blank canvas afterward is his responsibility. If he is suddenly crippled in the middle of a project from a lack of inspiration and begins to “think instead of paint”, the painting may become a disaster.

An artist can’t let uncertainty and fear stifle him during in the middle of a project. An artist must continue to explore his mind and fill creative space with the results of his daydreaming.

Videogame designers go through a similar creative process. In fact, it’s an exact replica of what any designer in any medium goes through.

I think what I learned from Mr. Miyamoto is kind of the methodical, calm, creative approach. It’s not just willy-nilly ad-hoc creative approach – just closing your eyes and swirling the paintbrush.

He was very methodical in his approach to the process and highly iterative, and I think it was the secret to his success.

In the September 2009 edition of Game Informer, Howard Phillips recalls specific qualities that one must have during the creative process in order to create a successful product.

An important factor in creating art is losing fear. Don’t fear the results of a vague and blurry experiment. Stop being so afraid to daydream at work. Lose fear in blotching your paintings. If anything will benefit from just “swirling the paintbrush”, your work will. Give yourself to your dreams, calm down and start doing whatever the hell you want.

All I want is a pretty world to excite my imagination. Ideally, if I can dive into a game and forget what time of the day it is when I come back to reality, I’m a happy camper.

A lot of times, people think they want realism when what they really crave is internal consistency within a given universe.

In the January edition of Game Developer, Zen of Design author Damion Schubert subtly but swiftly dissects what gamers really want in their games.

A beautifully crafted game will envelope you in a culture of its own. Just as long as you aren’t peeking around the corners at work looking for zombies, you should be fine.

Dear Electronic Arts,

I’ve recently come across news that Electronic Arts is in search for new breeding grounds to create new gaming product and that among choices like Louisiana and Florida, Georgia appears to be in contention.

Whether you need a development center to make your new fancy Facebook games or work on more Madden builds, Atlanta is a premiere place to do so. We offer economical incentives, our landmarks are better and we’re not New Orleans. As a caring resident of Atlanta, I have offered my assistance to make your decision much easier.

You’ve got your eyes set on Savannah? Well, luckily for you, we’ve got our eyes set on Atlanta. What’s easier, EA? Convincing gaming personnel to move out of the comfort of their own states into old, hot and steamy Savannah or a luscious, booming city like Atlanta? A smarter man would take the latter.

Spanish moss is overrated, EA and to Savannah, so are morals. According to Urvaksh Karkaria of the Atlanta Business Chronicle “Georgia is apparently offering EA a downtown Savannah warehouse equipped with fiber optic and other infrastructure to support a game development center that would focus on product testing.” Really cute, Savannah. “The state is believed to have offered EA a free lease on the warehouse.”

There is no comment from Georgia economic development department spokeswoman Alison Tyrer, but if this is true, this move is clearly foul (unless the building is to be relocated into Metro Atlanta, which would then turn in a savvy business maneuver instead of desperation).

Among some of your other choices are Louisiana and Florida? May I ask why? Do they have the CNN center there? No. Our sports teams’ colors are obviously better than both of these states in question (Savannah doesn’t have any of these “professional sports teams” in question. Big surprise). New Orleans is obviously infested with zombies. Are you really ready for that hostile work environment? I didn’t think so. And Florida? Luckily, there are no zombies in Florida: just old people.

Although you might be a few years too late (Freaknik is long and gone and the phrase “Hot-lanta” is now taboo), there is still positive incentive to create your development center in Atlanta.

Atlanta has a world class transit system to meet your transportation necessities.

Does the sound of “Cartoon Network” bring smiles to your collective faces? I know it does. You can get used to that, you know?

Coca-cola, anyone? We have plenty. Stay caffeinated/paranoid throughout those long 12+ hour code crunching sessions by just waltzing down the street to your favorite cocai…er caffeine dealer.

I’m confident you’ll make the obvious and smart decision and choose Atlanta as the homeland to create some of your new, exciting intellectual properties.

So how about a free tour for Georgia residents? No? That’s fine. We understand. That would be way too many people. Just for Gameblurg staff then? Right. Here’s our contact information whenever you guys want to hook that up.

Sincerely,

Mauricio Bowers

I have a friend who simply can’t resist bad dialog. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t ignore the laughing sensation of shallow one-liners during a videogame’s epic action scenes, or some stereotypically corny “hero-line” during a game’s climax. And it doesn’t ruin anything for him. In fact, he enjoys it. “It’s awful,” he proclaims. “But although it’s bad, it’s a “funny” bad.”

At the time, I didn’t think I could hear anything dumber. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t figure out why something so stupid confused me. Does that make me stupid? Funny is bad. Bad is good? Should I try to make bad games with the hopes of them being “funny”?

Unfortunately, I might be guilty of the same shallow pleasure (admittedly, I am a big Vin Diesel fan). It’s interesting that not only my friend and I, but millions of other idiots like us enjoy similar garbage.

It’s just ironic (and a little disheartening) that we disregard our “standards” and ignore what a complete package is supposed to be just as long as there is one thing satisfying underneath the pretty bow and wrappings.

What’s more disheartening is how pretentious my approach was when addressing my friends’ opposing taste (no matter how moronic they may appear). Sometimes, you (or, I) forget that it’s okay to relax and just have fun enjoying a simple action sequence because of the spectacular visuals and forget about the aggravating glitches that may follow.

That’s the key: bad is acceptable for you when the good is overwhelming enough to blanket the bad. For example: Smooth and sleek gameplay mechanics (good) vs. Main character with a mullet (bad).

Sure mullets are well…mullets, but good gameplay is hard to come by so just ignore the fact that you’ve got it follow some moron around, staring at the back of his ridiculous mullet for 10 hours.

Take this Bayonetta magazine advert for instance:

To a fan of the upcoming game, the logo alone is enough to spark a smile, but thanks to the Sega’s Public Relations department, the stale line “I just dropped by to say die.” is completely accepted and/or ignored. The horrendous copy is irrelevant to those who begin to drool over the pretty pictures and the game’s release date.

Could it be that every once in a while, it’s perfectly fine to hop off of our high horse (when no one’s watching) and indulge in our guilty pleasures (reading/watching Twilight, humming Miley Cyrus tunes in your place of work)?

Deep down, we all love to enjoy our own version of cheap, trashy fun (enter dirty girl/clean girl analogy here) on a level that doesn’t require serious thought.

It’s revelations like these that almost make me want to learn how to create terrible games on purpose. Almost. It would be a purely for the money though. Who needs pride when you have Vin Diesel?

Edit: Kenneth just sent me a link to this trailer for Dante’s Inferno. Skip to the end of the video and you’ll have a beautiful example of what we’re discussing here.

The Xbox 360 has received a bump in hardware sales throughout the past 2 months which brings the question: Where has this sudden rise come form? Is it the booming software sales? No. It is because of its strategic product bundling? No. The responsibility of the recent Xbox 360 surge lies on the shoulders of the audacious Jane Lynch.

The witty actor (who’s credits include The 40 Year Old Virgin (2005), Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (2006) and Role Models (2008) ) stars in a slew of Microsoft’s “It’s More Fun Time” commercials, promoting Xbox’s ability to generate “fun” in the family household. What you don’t notice is Lynch’s gifted ability to sneak into your heart with her brash sarcasm and sly humor.

In order for the other companies like Nintendo and Sony to compete with the mammoth “Jane wave”, they could be a shoo in for a celebrity frontman/woman of their own.

A nice wholesome lady like Lisa Lampanelli, or a strategically placed f’bomb from an equally hilarious Katt Williams will have the family excited about purchasing consoles for this holiday season! Or you could just yank Jane from Microsoft. She’s funny as sin, and we’d be hard-pressed to blame you.

Our finger of disapproval doesn’t shake without friendly suggestions to follow, and if there’s anything we’ve aimed to teach you today is this: our world is jaded and celebrities sell stuff.

Recently, the taste of a rumored Dead Space 2 stimulated the curious sensations of the gaming blogosphere via mysterious silhouettes and messages.

A sequel to a creative title garners my personal excitement, but whenever the bar is set high, there’s always the heartbreaking possibility of expectations being crushed by the notorious sophomore slump.

Thus, there are issues we’d love for Dead Space producer, Visceral Games, to address in its upcoming title.

For instance, there’s something mildly distasteful about operating a slow protagonist in a fast-paced environment, much like the alien-infested atmosphere Dead Space creates. Sluggish melee options, clunky avatar movements and slow reloading time all constitute to a lack of fluidity during gameplay.

There’s also something disgusting about delivering cheap scares at awful camera angles. In a horror movie where survival games may draw inspiration from, this idea is cute, but in an interactive environment where I fend for my life/sanity, this idea further aggravates me, especially when I’m handicapped by gaudy camera positions.

During the down time of the ship’s exploration, the lack of the main character’s involvement in the story’s progression leaves me with a dull, empty feeling as random superiors bark orders at me. At some points during the game, I became very passionate (passionate, angry, same thing) during the intense skirmishes and it would be nice if my character could share similar emotions in the middle of these exhilarating situations with me.

Games that reach so far into the creative box for ideas have the tendency to leave the simple, practical elements of creating a game behind. A third person shooter in an accelerated atmosphere should not be plagued by a sluggish protagonist who is further handicapped by technical miscues and poor story involvement.

The sophomore slump can rip a franchise’s survival hopes to shreds, and could even threaten the potential of a intellectual property as strong as Dead Space, but with the right glue, Visceral Games can mend the few broken miscues and create another stimulating, fruitful roller coaster (preferably, without the headaches).

Assassin’s Creed 2 historical highlights captures my interests much like attractive artifacts would at a museum. Initially, I didn’t know how to take this. I’m not used to stopping and raising my eyebrows at small facts and tidbits in a videogame.

I’m used to enjoying exhilarating, emotional roller coasters that force me to cringe at the sudden appearance of zombie waves or throwing my controller at the screen when I’m “un-fairly” sniped from afar.

Assassin’s Creed 2 is a different kind of monster: It makes me pause and ponder instead of pausing and breaking things (which is pretty good for the longevity of my controllers). As I walk around, there’s something new to embrace about the culture of the European Renaissance that is re-imagined for the sake of the game. You can step among the Palazzo Vecchio and learn about its cultural impact. As you step passed other historical structures, even more historical beings like Leonardo da Vinci (famed painter, inventor, philosopher) and Pope Alexander VI (notorious for corruption and immoral nepotism) exist behind their walls, choosing to aid or negatively impact your quest.

Like an interactive museum, each step leads away from one artifact and towards another. You can experience what it was like to hear the call of the town herald recite news and other announcements because an overwhelming percentage of the town may be illiterate.

You can also experience what it’s like to engage in a free-running rooftop pursuit of a random pickpocket who decides that your money would look much better in his pouch instead of your own.

The culture captured in Assassin’s Creed 2 bears the responsibility of revealing the environment of the Renaissance during the late 15th and early 16th century in Italy, and so far, the game has done a convincing job depicting the chronicled atmosphere.

Now, if the story didn’t awkwardly run dry and the combat system was just as engaging as the atmosphere, we might have a really good game on our hands.

This month, Game Informer celebrates their top 200 games of all time in unique fashion. The lure to these covers is that they strip away the normal routine of displaying teasers to the inside content and instead, reveal a simplistic showcase of their main focus (In this case, the games that have inspired creativity in the videogaming universe).

There’s no colorful background to disctract readers. No font is plastered along the pictures to minimize its appeal. The only portion of the magazine cover that remains is the featured artwork.

An artist emphasizes minimal design on the cover of items that bears content in an attempt to allow the content (images/words) to impact viewers and the December covers of Game Informer embrace this approach, and succeed with elegant success.

Pretty pictures lie below. Enjoy!
(Via Game Informer)

There is a big reason why the competitive fighting game genre has few premier franchises: it’s surprisingly difficult to rewrite what Street Fighter, Mortal Kombat and Tekken have planted in the minds of players worldwide. How do you put a different touch on a world that other franchises have a stranglehold on?

Fans of fighting games have slim pickings. Compared to the other videogame genres to choose from, fighting gamers have a specific allegiance to franchises that run deep. Who can blame these players? These franchises have been around for a long time for a big reason: they have consistently done the hard things really well.

This may not come as surprise to industry veterans who have succeeded or tried to emulate the magic of a fighting game, but to those who don’t lose sleep over programming woes, the problems of creating a sophisticated fighting game with good balance, unique characters and an enticing culture run deeper than the average eye can tell.

Although the surface of a conventional fighting game is simple (one-on-one battles), its inner workings require much thought. Large rosters are a nice thought but the size of a game’s roster becomes irrelevant when their powers are not balanced.

The problems are rooted deep when approaching the road to solving balancing issues. Imagine in front of your game console of choice and you find yourself inside of the character menu, but your selections are influenced deciding if it’s feasible to endure an uphill battle because of their lack of offense and exploitable defense.

When you create a game with overpowered, or “God”, characters, some characters become invisible because of their uselessness. Why not create a 5 man fighting game if they can overpower the rest of a 25 man “roster”?

A fair physics engine must be in place in order for any player to experience a fair fight using his/her choice of characters. A balanced roster erases unfair advantages and introduces strategy. Now, instead of merely choosing the best characters, the player must rely on his/her own skill in order to pull out the win.

Regardless of a roster’s balance, it must not only be diverse, but full of fun and unique characters. Because of the genre’s conventions, escaping clichéd ninjas and martial artists is imperative to creating a special and distinctive experience. If we dive outside of the realm of customary fighting game characters, we could begin to experiment with new personalities:

Now that we have our working physics and interesting characters to exercise those mechanics with, they all need a fun world to play in, and that’s where the culture lies. From the powers that are at your “deposition” to the atmosphere that you and your opponent do battle, the predominate behaviors, attitudes and design characterize a title.

What characteristics your game presents are an important part in establishing an identity. Take the Mortal Kombat franchise for instance: the game showcases overzealous blood and the dismemberment of body parts in an attempt to pitch the idea of deadly bloodshed.

While a sleek “user-interface” will induce a calming effect, a ragged and grungy arena menu will suggest aggression and intensity. Language, music, art also play vital roles in determining the “feel” that will help a game to survive in past its initial release date.

Creating a new fighting game franchise goes against the heavy hitters 10 years worth of headaches and troubleshooting that an inexperienced team hasn’t began to think about. With a full plate of fixing physics hiccups, constructing a list of characters and cultivating a new environment in a crowded genre is a task only for a determined team to shake and reinvent a tired genre for the better.

Starting a brand new fighting game franchise without a license is like trying to find an alternative for the pencil and pencil: things that are “in place” are hard to replace because we’re so used to them.

But remember, someone started drafting iPods when the world was addicted to CD players.

Sure it feels like a recruitment call and a brainwashing tactic rolled into one gorgeous advertisement, but you’d have to admit that if Microsoft manufactured an army, you’d enroll faster than you could say Sony Entertainment.

Via IGN