GameblurgKids Talking About the Future

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?

Do you remember your teenage years where that one guy seemed to be a natural at dating women? Do you also remember when the same guy would hook you up with the bottom of his tier list? You know, the girl that pretty girls keep around to boost their self esteem. This is the same reminiscent feeling I get when my friends start recommending Japanese games for me to play.

The situations between a blind date and a stereotypical Japanese title are extraordinarily similar: It’s a blind date, but you have her number so you take the time to know the girl over the phone (previews). You trust your friend’s judgment as he hypes her up (promotional videos).

“She’s great man. She’s got a car and a big….heart,” your friend says. Naturally, you get excited after previewing her and hearing good things, only to find out things aren’t what they seem.

Finally, the date arrives (release date) and you lay your eyes on a stumbling disaster. She can fill two seats with relative ease (loading times), her teeth have gaps (unspoken dialog) and her face brings Shrek to mind (choppy visuals).

You’ve invested so much time learning about her favorite colors and why she doesn’t like the toilet seat up, only to find out that she sucks, and you could care less about her or her toilet seat preferences.

The main problem is, you never received what you were promised after enduring promotional video after promotional video. These antics have carried on for years (Konami, Square Enix) and have plagued fans of their franchises when they discover that the final product doesn’t hold a candle to the promotional material that they’ve been watching years before. All of the cute computer generated movies mean nothing when you find yourself monotonously grinding level after level while trying to become the “one” and save the damsel in distress.

With titles like White Knight Chronicles and Yakuza 3, we’ve been set up for disaster before the second quarter of the year, but we’ve learned from out past mistakes, Japan: find another sucker, because you won’t fool us again.

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.

You’ve been there before. You’re trying to talk, or listen to someone speak, and some inconsiderate moron walks up begins his/her own conversation with you, creating an annoyance of outside noise. That’s the feeling I get when I watch Attack of the Show.

For every “hi-jink” or “chuckle-worthy” segment, the camera crew, the interns, the receptionist, they’re all in the background, within ear shot of the camera, erupting with laughter. It feels as if they do this to legitimize the amusement in watching some kid crack his nuts for the 5th time during the show’s single telecast.

If you’re in dire need to release your joyous laughter because you can’t help but to laugh at dogs raping each other, I’m sure you can all find another room to do so in. No one watches the show to watch or hear you. Please go away.

Maybe it’s because of the lack of time I’ve spent actually playing videogames lately (I hate programming) that I’ve incorporated a business disposition towards the process of actually selling a videogame.

In the midst of our most recent hectic holiday season, it was interesting to witness how subdued some publishers were in the wake of advertising their “holiday blockbusters”. I say “interesting” because the restraint shown during the process of advertising is often an accomplice in showering production teams with failure and lay-offs.

Understandably, fear permeates when releasing a title against a Gears of War 2 or a Fable 2. High profile games of this caliber have been held in anticipation by their stout fan bases for years. It probably doesn’t help that you’re releasing during Christmas when fans are saving their money months in advance with the intent of buying one, or two specific titles.

An uphill battle may appear in your way, shy game publisher, but it shouldn’t be with the inevitable competition as much as it is with your ability to tell the public about your game before it’s too late. In other words, your quarrel shouldn’t be with the crowded season: it’s the approach towards attacking the season.

As debatable as it is, an opportunity to shine during a period where people are more enthusiastic to purchase games plays a pivotal role in creating profit for your game. If you choose this window, you should be well aware of the competition that faces you.

You should know that your Halo’s and your Mario’s are in your game’s path to commercial success. Granted, it is not impossible to gain ground on a game if released outside of the 3rd-4th quarter window. Gamers have proven a willingness to passionately purchase games year-round if titles can supply captivating entertainment (i.e. Grand Theft Auto IV, released in April of 2008). But, for sake of argument, let’s imagine the release of a game right around turkey time. (Disclaimer: Your game can not suck. It’s imperative to avoid publicizing garbage.)

If you don’t tell anyone you’re having a Spring Break party, no one’s going to come. Aside from your roommates and your bros, no one will be in attendance. So you need to advertise. Word of mouth, some fliers, streakers with an airhorn screaming the party’s location, something…anything.

Keith Boesky recently wrote an illuminating article discussing the videogaming industry’s shortcomings when it comes to approaching the concept of promoting videogames.

As Boesky candidly states near the conclusion of his editorial, “You can’t afford not to advertise anymore.”

I saw Valkryie everywhere in the past few weeks. Excuse my ignorance, (History was never my strong point) but hearing about other parties attempting to murder Adolf Hitler intrigues me. That alone drove my interest towards the movie.

Excuse the weak comparison from movie-to-videogame, but it’s a fairly similar idea when approaching any type of media that fiends off of commercial success by way of entertainment: tell people about your product, and their interest will draw their hands to their wallets.

The movie’s star, Tom Cruise, was everywhere before, during, and after the film’s release. Bus stops and billboards were riddled with the infamous pretty boy.

Let people know that games are made by more than just a group code crunchers: make the public realize that they’re made by human beings and not machines. Allow people outside of gamer forums to realize the emotion and thought process that lurks behind the creation of your art work.

No matter how big the industry gets, games are different, and (unless you’re regurgitating old content) you’ll always have something fresh to talk about. Put Liu Kang on the side of a bus, or throw Cliff Blezkenski on The Tonight Show and have him smile at Leno’s dry jokes. Give games and/or their creators some face time.

I precisely remember an amusing instance where a certain big large publisher decided to advertise by handing out free shirts and stickers in the wake of another IP’s midnight release window. Probably not a politically correct strategy, but the thought behind the process is to embed the inescapable arrival of a memorable game inside of your head to create the overall statement “it’s coming, and you’d better not miss it”.

If I ever become a part of an external company, and I don’t see my game appearing in places other than gaming forums and late night Spike TV ads, I’m wondering who outside of our core audience knows about what I’ve been creating? Every gamer doesn’t shop at GameStop or mingle on Quarter to Three.

Normal people play videogames. You know what else these “normal” people do? They read Time Magazine and watch The Morning Show, so advertising throughout these mediums can’t induce that much fear if you’ve got fans of your medium reading the publication or watching the shows that you’re publicizing in.

Give it a shot. What does it matter that they haven’t heard of your company as of yet. Who cares if they’re haven’t heard of your title? Make them hear you.

During a read of an enlightening edition of the monthly publication, Game Developer, a few months back, I came across a particular interesting quote from an article within its binding constraints. Entitled “A Sense of Fun” and written by Parappa the Rapper creator, Masaya Matsuura, Matsuura’s focus first lies with concern for the evolution of the “music videogame”, prompting a change in innovation versus excessive music label licensing. While this thought did encourage serious contemplation (Hello, Activision), Matsurra segues into a brief session about peace in videogames. To summarize Masaya’s apprehensive comments, he states, “I don’t think the future is bright for this (videogame) industry if we continue to focus on games that motivate the player by using gameplay that employs physical attacks as a way of establishing levels of superiority and inequality.”

Aggression and violence are staples inside of our industry and it addresses rudimentary needs to many gamers who participate in relatively appropriate arenas. Generally, the reception of physical weapons and magical powers are endowing acts from game creators with the sole purpose of “establishing levels of superiority and inequality”. This imaginary “superiority” that videogames instill into players produce an empowering feeling that generates the return to similar titles for different experiences, but the same sensation of predominance. I’m not going to feed anyone some concocted scientific formula to explain why people like dominating one another (or anything else for that matter), because the answer is written in the statement. People like power (surprise). Videogames cater to those who crave a closer step to satisfying this natural, disruptive emotion, without strings attached (jail time). I feel that these are important, subconscious reasons that many players enjoy favorable pastimes such as: zombie mowing, spartan fragging, dragon beheading.

Aggression eliminates the stress that a game’s enemies cultivates (kill stuff=happy time). Regardless, Matsurra’s side gradually whispers it’s quiet argument (not going to ignore the “Madagascar”/”High School Musical” enthusiasts). Violence is beginning to dissolve as the core concept of the generic videogame. Many games have gotten away with violence at a minimal level (if none at all). Braid and Pixel Junk Eden were two of many recent games that gathered a following of players who prefer an experience that escapes the concept of shooting and stabbing. Developers are discovering effective ways to extract significant emotions aside from that of anger and capitalize on such actions. They have begun to focus on extirpate emotions and concepts ranging from compassion to musical composition to relationship management.

Underneath the landscape of many “passive” games still manages to breed destruction to some degree. While in certain games, physical attacks aren’t supplemented with important emphasis, one could still argue that there lies aggression in Braid’s trouncing of the goomba-esque monsters, as well as the Guitar Hero franchise’s battle mode where one uses instrumental attacks to abduct the opposing player’s chances to perform to the best of his/her capabilities. Purposefully, I read deep into these examples to express the fact that rarely mainstream videogames exhibit no violence at all. When referring to the very concept of creating videogames, I often remember Hirokazu Yasuhara’s interview discussing videogame design psychology. Games produce fearful situations while addressing the basic desires of players to reach “freedom from the fear”, and one way to way to please the appetite of taking on a challenge, and easing the stress or, fear, that the challenge causes is by destruction. (For example: “For example, in Pac-Man, you’re eating dots — wocka-wocka-wocka-wocka. That is erasing, and it’s also a form of destruction. You’re destroying everything in your path, and you’re leveling out the entire play field.”)

Out of all of my time spent with my head buried inside of this article, the “peace” quote (see opening) engaged my echoing glance because I can’t imagine a videogaming universe without the inclusion of the “negative emergence” that violence brings to the table. A world comprised of nothing but music games and puzzle do-hickies do nothing but aggravate me at the thought of its wretched, yawn-inducing existence. Violence will always have a part in the videogaming world, just as long as it will always have a part inside of the world outside of videogames. Consistent peace is nothing more than a pipe dream, but a break from screaming and swearing into your headset should always provide a breath of fresh air.

One exciting thing about being apart of GameBlurg is the ability to exhibit different ideas, theories, and concerns that differ from mine, or any of the other members of the GameBlurg crew. A good friend of mine, who goes by the alias, “SmithSpot”, once expressed a compelling argument about offline play, and its deterioration among the gaming community. So passionate about the subject at hand, he actually wrote a piece explaining his displeasure about the lack of support for what was once a vital inclusion in videogame projects. Here, “SmithSpot” provides an argument towards revitalizing offline play and its role of importance on appropriate titles. Hope you all enjoy our 1st guest post. 

Written by “SmithSpot”

For years now I have been noticing the slow death of human interaction due to online play. Now it seems no one prefers to have face-to-face interaction with their friends while playing video games. Now friends rather meet up with each other online and play with each other. I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but even game developers are following suit, if not forcing the online play onto the gaming community. The implication of online capabilities has risen in many games. In some instances during development, a game may be frowned upon because of its lack of online support, but what about the “offline support”. Did our trusty developers seem to sweep offline gamers under the rug that was rolled out by Xbox Live?

Battling in close quarters in the same room as your opponent can cultivate the excitement that is deemed important to the relationship between foes in the player vs. player atmosphere. From raging outbreaks to victorious cheers, the face-to-face interaction holds much importance to a videogame title and the emotional investments players make into it. The anonymity that online play generates dissapaears as players realize that they are not just competing against another similarly suited avatar, they’re facing human beings. Whether this realization creates joy or havoc, it destroys the robotic assumption one has towards the countless drones one encounters during their repetitive play online. The games listed below of few of an increasing number in games that have ignored those of us who actually have gamer friends outside of Xbox Live and the PlayStation Network.

Call of Duty 4: Not being able to play with four players on a local connection destroyed the longevity of the game to those who share the preference of face-to-face gaming. Although Actvision does allow us to play head to head, free for all, and/or 2 on 2, they do not allow you customize your own weapons like you are able to do in online play. You are force to play with the default setting and the combos they decide, which detracts from the full experience that is secluded to online arenas.

Burnout Series: Ever since the game was first released it was an two player capable game. I remember playing my brothers and my cousins in the game. Speeding pass them and causing them to crashing into the back of a tractor-trailer. But the latest version “Burnout Paradise” is strictly a one player game. Yeah sure you can compete against other, but guess how? You’ve guessed it. It’s only allowed online.

PlayStation Home: Now you want me to revert to interact with people who live throughout the eyes of their virtual avatars? I don’t need to even explain this one, it’s a given.

People continue to criticize the popular Nintendo Wii because of its lack of online play, graphic power, “gimmicky games”, etc. What people fail to realize is that the popularity of the system is contributed by the offline capabilities of the game. It forces people to play amongst one another. With its elementary control system, Nintendo’s console allows any human being with a functioning brain to play along appropriately. I don’t know if any of you have children, but seeing the smile on my 2 year old daughter when she plays Wii Sports with me is priceless. It also goes the other way. You just don’t understand how enjoyable it is for the child to have their parents, aunt, uncle, and/or grandparents play along with them. Generally, the parent’s stereotypically mediocre performance is irrelevant, as the child typically enjoys the bonding that is now missed because of longer work days, more homework, television, etc. I enjoy playing the person face-to-face rather than over a mic.

It’s nice, sometime fun, and conveinant to play online, but there is nothing better than having a great game on Madden and having others see it, witness it, and cheer you on as you make that one incredible catch in the end zone to take the lead with 10 seconds left in the game. In our gaming universe, nothing is more cordial than being able to say “good game” with a hand shake rather than sending a “GG” message over Xbox Live. Human interaction is far more sincere than the experiences Xbox Live or the PlayStation Network offer. Stop sending friend requests and start getting to know the gamers in your neighborhood a little better.

I’ve expressed my feelings on critiquing videogames before. The self-induced caveat in posting about reviews this lies within crying about antiquated problems about the dire need for intense interpretations in videogames, but that’s fine. Hopefully, you’ll understand how strongly I feel about the dismissal of the core experience that flutters amongst dry videogame examinations and realize that this isn’t just another rant. To put it quite clearly, I don’t personally enjoy stereotypical reviews because now that I have an understanding of the elements of videogames, I don’t need to rely on an external source to enlighten me about the monotonous elements that cohesively create the experience: game controls, graphics, longevity, etc. These elements are the easy part that lies with creating a game, as well as the easy part that lie within creating a review/analysis.

Naturally, from a developer’s standpoint, in order to create a functional game it must contain concise controls, appealing graphics and technological housekeeping (steady frame rate, lack of graphical malfunctions, etc.). The underlying challenge lies within generating a desire in the player to discover an artificial universe and mold it into his/her personal playground. Not necessarily promoting “freedom” and interactivity, but promoting the feeling of embracing a role with the identical passion that rivals that of its creators. The latter is what I want to discover as I read about games that I’ve expressed interest in playing: a logical, comprehensible and precise discovery of an experience through another’s eyes. The effects that the game will have on the player’s psyche, the discovery of why adopting certain roles is rewarding, and other things beneath the radar should be addressed in order to assess situations such as why it’s so appealing to murder aliens, play the bad guy or why the gamers enjoy chilling, scary experiences.

I personally haven’t been able to discover a consistent source for introducing personal experiences that one has felt while playing the game. Questions such as: “If you know enough about the game, then why don’t you just play it for yourself, instead of relying on someone else’s opinion?” are valid, but I don’t believe reviews and critiques have one simple goal of merely explaining how good or bad a game is.

Much like movie critics, videogame journalists have the inherited objective of preserving videogame history. Being that I am fairly young, I am dawned with the fact that I could not have played older acclaimed titles such as Panzer Dragoon Saga (1998) or Vagrant Story (2000) when I was younger and use reliable information to judge videogames with influences other than the “cool” box art. Critiques should have the distinctive goal to explain why the entire experience is either a timeless, engaging tale of glory or a rotting pile of cringing embarrassment. From reading the text, critiques should evoke an emotional response, cultivate interest and lead to the direct discovery of the videogame.

I am not upset about the current state of reviews, I am just in the mood for something different that holds my attention as a growing “gamer”. My ideal critique (reading, or writing) would just encompass the ability to clench readers and allow that reader to adequately understand the critic’s train of thought as they transgress throughout the complexities of specific stages of the game. However, there are a few bumps in the road to the transfer of these experiences from one to another. The global vernacular, or lack thereof, that enables journalists to educate and inform videogame industry veterans and passive games alike is the partial blame for thea absence of penetrating views of videogames. Another attributing portion of our problem could be that some games are on such a minuscule scale that some believe that the lack of substance doesn’t warrant a profound analysis. Possibly the “vultures” of our community of online users who swarm from source to source in search of quick material that can be digested within minutes could be the cause of the disregard of long & thoughtful summaries.

In the end, it’s merely my curious appetite that greedily lurks about the endless resources that the internet and publications provide, searching for more than just the graphical capabilities and controls in a game. There has always been speculation, and attempts, but the concept hasn’t gained an audience, or a performer for that matter. Partially this path is abandoned, out of fear, and partially out of an obscure road that hasn’t proven to become successful enough to accompany (or rival) the platitudinal review system that comfortably resides without a physical threat to suggest change. Maybe “we” should just…try? That is, afterall, what these platforms of unsupervised expression are for: to let go and express new intriguing ideas. So we’ve decided to do so, and give our opinions on what you all truly care about: videogames. In due time, we’d like to think that GameBlurg will become a source for intelligent analysis. Surely, there are people with experience in our field that eclipses that of our own, and there are those who are more than capable of delivering comprehensible experiences, but instead of continuing the wave of countless whining (except for what’s above!) and speculation, we’re just going to give it a shot. The road will probably be shaky, but if you’re not making a mess, then you’re probably approaching your problems a little too carefully. Look for more information soon and wish us luck!

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The entire idea of role-playing started out with the ability to create your own characters and venturing on a journey that existed outside of our daily lives. This sense of fantasy gave people the chance to step out of reality, become someone they are not, and have fun doing it. Within the comfort of your own home, games such as Dungeons & Dragons You were able to gain that same sense of fantasy right in your own home without venturing into the backwoods wearing your moms cooking pot for a helmet. That was what the beauty of taking the idea of a fantasy character placed in a imaginary world and making it a video game. However, over time, many games were becoming too similar giving us the same predictable characters and story lines that have now grown stale in this current day and age.

The role-playing genre (RPGs) has given us many memories: some happy, while others sad, along with those controller breaking bosses. When RPG’s were still young companies’ fresh ideas, they enticed the interest of gamers young and old with great characters and compelling stories. The RPG genre we all know and love is dying out for many reasons. Many fans love clutching on to the great ideas of the past, not realizing that comparing RPGs of the present to those of the past is what is really hurting this genre. What does the future hold for this genre: a completely new uprising or an ultimate death?

The main problem I see with the role-playing genre is that every year so many titles get pushed out into the market with only a few subjected to stand out from the rest. However many of these titles don’t live up to their hype which projects the “best” the company has to offer. For example Final Fantasy: Crisis Core was supposed to deliver new experiences for the fans of Final Fantasy 7. Unfortunately, we were given a game with horrific dialog, an even worse combat system, and it was all covered up with beautiful unstoppable cut scenes. Being a huge fan of the Final Fantasy series, I was disappointed with Crisis Core especially knowing that this was a four year project. There could have possibly been many games that were better than Crisis Core, but they had to take a backseat to the bigger franchise. Nothing against them, but its just a crime that a smaller company’s game would only get recognized by word of mouth of a person who took a chance on a title no one has heard of.

The other faults I see in this genre vary from the most obvious to the tiniest detail. The battle systems we have now have been done over and over again (no matter how hard you try, I believe turn based fighting is dead). Character personality’s being rehashed since the early ages of RPGs with recycled storylines with the same end result. In the most recent games, we still have random battles transitioned to with blurred screens plagued with the basic commands. Many RPGs constantly emphasize on building up your character’s attributes which can consume time that can be used to enjoy the story. The formula for making an RPG has become too simple for companies and it leads to gamers receiving the same product time after time again.

As of 2008, the role-playing genre is sitting on life support. What could be the possible reasons for such a lack of creativity? Are companies running out of ideas or are companies so focused on making money they lose sight of engaging their players. Being a huge fan of this genre, I loved the many things that these games offered for instance the deep story that consumes your attention, the characters that you love and hate, and the epic journey that you must complete to achieve balance in your world. The element of fantasy that takes you away from reality achieving that childhood dream of being a knight, pirate, etc. is now lost. The future outlook for role-playing games does look promising especially with E3 (Electronic Entertainment Expo) on the horizon and companies showing us whats in store for this genre in the upcoming months. With many titles on the horizon like Last Remnant for Microsoft’s Xbox 360 and Final Fantasy XIII for the Sony’s PlayStation 3 (PS3) coming soon both are shaping up to be very promising for their respective systems. Will we possibly have another genre defining game to defiantly raise this dying genre from the grave it has dug itself or will we suffer through playing mediocre title after mediocre title? I, for one, am tired of it.

I will continue to have faith in for this genre and hope things will start to bounce back. I think its time to let go of the past and bring forth new ideas that will strike the interest of old gamers and entice new ones. With so many major titles coming hopefully a smaller 3rd party developer can get a chance to showcase their creations and stand out for a change. Its time for innovations and new ideas to come and revive this dying genre and correct the many faults that have been looked over in the past. 2008 and 2009 will hopefully be good years for all RPG fans across the globe. I myself happen to be very excited for Last Remnant for the Xbox 360. I only hope that more RPGs will start coming to the Xbox 360. Will this genre be able to get off life support? Only time will tell.

 

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The Citizen Kane (1941) comparisons to famous videogames in the gaming industry are understandable. The movie industry’s most notable and recognizable masterpiece is Citizen Kane. It was a landmark for film production in terms of technicality, narratives and visual storytelling; a milestone that “rewrote the rules of Hollywood cinema”. Its tale was captivating, and filled with characters who collectively shared the professional ability to physically represent a narrative. Kane’s entrance into the movie world was during the industry’s young age in parallel to Metal Gear Solid 4’s (MGS4) arrival into the pubescent videogaming universe. The anxiety and anticipation for the ‘game of all games’ builds steadily. With Metal Gear Solid 4’s recent release, the cinematic potential shown reawakens the hope of the gaming world’s Citizen Kane back to life once more, cultivating discussions and arguments among the blogosphere.

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During my experience of running through Metal Gear Solid 4, there were things in the game (apart from the diluted gun-play) that began to irritate me. This small gripe pertains to the consistent ill-advised exposure of the casts’ women, and the series’ congruent wishes to showcase every woman’s physical assets whenever possible.

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During the age where accessibility and ease are consistent buzz words, one topic that aligns itself simultaneously with these words is the hypothetical situation of the diminished presence of retail games, and the rise of the digital distribution. “Penny Arcade Adventures: On the Rain-Slick Precipice of Darkness”, recently released for the Xbox 360, administers the 1st of what is sure to be many tests of delivering role-playing experiences via downloadable software on the Xbox 360.

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Stories are simple on the surface, and one-dimensional in it’s main plot. You embrace a role, in a chaperoning attempt to achieve principal achievements while playing a videogame. (Keep in mind kids, we’re talking about story driven games.) If the majority of our stories are so easy to dismantle and observe on the surface, how do gamers become so engrossed in the story lines? A main component of captivating an audience lies in the roster’s ability to attract such attention. Granted, there are many intricate pieces in creating a title that withdraws emotional reactions from its participants, but a major contribution to the realization of this elaborate goal lies in the casts’ ability to cultivate interest.

Obviously, the facts that I have laid out are not new news. However, they are components of a videogame that creators thoroughly understand the process of developing a base of characters. The problem lies within the execution of the goal. Generating characters is an important portion of a game’s creation process, because this is where the audience primarily connects with the universe that you want them to temporarily adopt. And the fact that this under-utilized tool that delivers an appetite for exploration into a videogame is barely along the brink of maturation makes me wonder about the future.

It is fortunate that there are some videogames which encapsulate captivating rosters, but we only receive this experience every other quarter. It’s daunting that we still live in an age where our industry developer’s can’t retract from the safety net that creating the strong, silent protagonist provides. No doubt, this is an antiquated gripe at an old subject, but that subject is still a scary matter at hand. I don’t know how excited I’m going to feel if in 2015, our wheels continue to frantically screech in the hypothetical mud-hole that our industry’s creative prowess resides today. As a community, an organization and collective body of people who generally care, we are capable of doing more, on a wider accord, and a greater level. Understandably, this industry and this medium is relatively young, and pales in comparison to the media fields before it, but their concerns, (as are ours) are handled when it becomes visible to the public.

Faith is there, and fortified by gems like Grand Theft Auto 4, but this emphasis on well-written casts needs to begin to spread. During dialog, conduction of body language, and facial expression, and other various methods of emotional manifestation, it is possible introduce an attractive amount of depth to your characters. The human being playing your game isn’t a one-dimensional creature, why should the avatar representing his experience degenerate into such?

 

A Shiny Star for Effort

In order to develop a personable and relating analysis of a videogame, critics, including those at GameBlurg must be subjective. The videogame industry is comprised of projects and products with the immediate intention of entertaining the participant (gamer). Apart from the routine of dismantling the core mechanics of a videogame (graphical output, sound design, character structure, story interpretation), in order to create an honest representation of these experiences, journalists and bloggers create an intelligible, but nonetheless, prejudiced opinion based a specific personal taste. The intellectual diction and ‘gamer jargon’ enveloping an analysis of a videogame often shades a reviewer’s subjection and façade of actuality and fact. 

Let’s face it boys and girls, you should not have such a lack of confidence in your ability to judge your own abundance of delectation that your are shackled and dictated by any external perspective. Fun is obtained by anything that provides excitement, mirth and joyful exuberance. This concept shouldn’t be to difficult to understand. I’d be hard-pressed to have formed a profound and knowledgeable opinion about anything, (let alone, a videogame) and brainwash myself into believing that anyone’s personal outlook of ‘fun’ supersedes my own. I’m confident enough in my own instincts to believe that if I’m enjoying myself in a videogame, I’m going to be honest to myself, and express such feelings. You should do the same.

The only objectionable portions of a videogame that lie in constrains of a critic’s dissection are the core mechanics of an operable videogame. It is factual to state that “the frame-rate randomly skips throughout the progression on the game.” However, saying that “this sequel’s story is not as entertaining as its predecessor” is nothing more than a belief perceived by the particular critic/reviewer.

There are going to be things that the visitors of this website and the authors disagree on. Focus on discussing about why our tastes differ instead of cursing each other for our differences.

As critics, we don’t want to command your level of enjoyment; we’re merely expressing our own (or lack there of). We are all different, which makes communities like blogs and forums so appealing to the open-minded individuals whose curiosity drives them to discover opinions and theories beyond their own.