Viewing entries tagged
artistic
I know it might not seem like it at times, but I try to keep these posts stacked into the positive column a little more than the negative. After all, I often want to share the joy a game can bring instead of the pain, so even though I have been known to complain here and there, I like to think that the overall vibe of this blog is one of enjoyment and optimism. However, just saying that kind of gives away how much of a big old "but" might be coming along in this particular post.
Are all games art? Or are art games actually games? How much art makes a game art instead of a game? At what point does a game with great art become nothing like a game, leaving only the art? What if the art is split between visuals and music, while the game focuses on generic elements, overshadowed by the art? When does a game become art, or when does art become a game? After all, games are an artform, but they rarely contain beautiful art.
Something I never like reading about in relation to video games is whether or not a particular title is "no different from a book" or "the same as a movie". It's nothing new, because it's often the argument that's made against walking-simulators and visual novels. Although when I read these kind of perspectives, I'm left wondering if the writer has ever actually read a book or watched a movie.
I know a lot of people out there like to tick a lot of boxes with their games. It's why we have games that shove in as many collectables and modes as possible, with no regard to their quality. On the other hand, it's why I've often heard people complain about games that focus too much on a single element, even if they pull it off superbly. Why then, does everyone love Gorogoa so much?
There has to be a point in life when you realise that interacting with art can be an experience without form, or end. When I studied philosophy, I quickly learned that a lot of people really hate wrestling with questions that have no immediate answer. It seemed that no matter how compelling the discourse was, some of us can't handle a lack of definition.
It feels a bit hypocritical to be writing this post after taking Laraan to task last time over its validity as a complete product. However, I'm going to try and justify why I think the tiny project Ophidia is a genuine and worthwhile purchase, despite its obvious limitations. This logic might get curly and take some getting used to.
It never ceases to amaze me just how many terrible ports are made of mobile games onto other systems. There are so many aspects of mobile design that differ immensely from desktop or console requirements, which rarely get adapted along with a port. Every now and then though, a game keeps it simple and gets it right.
As much as I'd like to claim otherwise, it's impossible for me to distance myself from when I was a kid spending hours fixated by LucasArts point-and-click adventures. I know I'm not alone, so it's nothing new, but I'd like to think that even though nostalgia can spark interest in a game, it doesn't dictate one's enjoyment. The thing is though, I'm not sure if I love Thimbleweed Park because it takes me back to being a kid, or because it's a fantastic iteration on the genre. I guess I'm pretty sure that it's both.
Having a large backlog of games to get through means that every now and then you come across something that you wish you'd found much earlier. It's the whole reason I'm determined to play every game I have access to, because there's no telling how many gems are hidden away in the pile.
I'll probably give it a post eventually, but one of my favourite games of all time is The Tiny Bang Story. It's a simple little game that mixes solving puzzles with finding hidden objects, but it's all about the presentation. In a game with such simple gameplay, there's loads of room for beautiful art and music to tie the experience together and The Tiny Bang Story does this without ever uttering a word of dialogue, written or otherwise.
I was a late-comer to the whole "god-game" thing, as I never played the classics like Populous or Black & White. It might be a bit of a stretch to call it a god-game, but the first one I remember playing would probably be Spore. Unironically, the god-game I've probably spent the most time with has been the utter failure of Godus, which I enjoyed right up until it stopped going anywhere and was abandoned by its creators.
A long time ago, in a basement not so far away; a friend and I spent an entire afternoon trying to get Doom II running on their PC. They had a brand new 16-bit sound card to try out, and I had a copy of the full game backed up on about sixteen floppy discs. It was astronomical to conceive of such a huge game that used the cutting edge technology of the time. When we finally got it running, the 16-bit grunts of the Pinkies would forever be etched into my memory.
I'm always up for abstract ambiguity in games and stories in general, so as I danced my way through the beautiful environments of Bound, my mind wandered to theorise on elements in the game. This Playstation 4 indie darling has a lot of good ideas and hints at a bunch of interesting themes, but I'm not sure if it ultimately succeeds.
Remember those old Apple Mac computers that were cutting edge in the mid-90s? They had this native program where you could put a bunch of clip art style images on a page and make them interactive and animated. I spent too much time making basic hidden object games when I was in school, but the process was satisfying and really allowed for some creative thinking. Now imagine that same type of game, with the modern power of an engine like Unity and you'll get the idea behind Hidden Folks right away.
I've often wondered why the visual novel format has mostly been adopted by the weeb anime crowd as their format of choice. Of course it's a short jump from manga and anime to a visual novel game, but this particular genre could be utilised in many more ways. Visual novels aren't inherently bad, as when they work they can be an enjoyable way to tell a story. I'd just like to see it used for something other than hentai or dating sims.
If paintings ever came to life and you were able to walk around in their world, I imagine it would be pretty close to what Nubla proposes. Even the shortcomings of this student game could be realistic downsides to a painted world that probably doesn't work the way you'd expect.
Virginia is a prime example of how a tight narrative can drive excellent pacing amongst a drapery of beautiful visuals and music. As far as so-called 'walking simulators' go, this may be the best title you never played.
