There's something about the latest Tomb Raider trilogy that always leaves me with unanswered questions. After finishing each game, I think back on the story and the gameplay, and find a large hole where something important seems to be missing. Even though I've enjoyed these games and have been wonderfully entertained by the updated adventures of Lara Croft, I feel like I'm still left wanting. Now that I've finished the third in the recent series, I feel like I might be able to put my finger on precisely what could be missing.
As usual with any kind of racing or fighting game, I have to preface this post with a disclaimer. My enjoyment and enthusiasm for racing games is only equalled by my complete lack of skill. The same goes for fighting games, as these are two genres that I always love to play, but am forever woefully awful in every way.
I often ask myself "how much game is enough game?", and I often come up with the same answer. In fact I don't think it's limited to games, but if you're trying to tell a story or deliver an experience, it needs to be as long as it needs to be. Can you make the point within an hour, or over a couple of pages? Maybe you need a rolling epic to clearly provide the perspective needed to appreciate a fable. Either way, I often find myself thinking that a game might have overstayed its welcome in one way or another.
Up until now, I never thought I would be writing about visual novels unless I came across one that was particularly interesting. The reason being that there are only ever a few things going on in these games, most of which can only be appraised through a subjective analysis of taste. At the end of the day, a visual novel is only as good as its art and its writing, which can mean different things to different people. Perhaps there's something worth discussing though, so let's have a crack it for a change.
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.
Does every game need to be pushing the limits of the medium and creating original and innovative experiences? Clearly the answer is: no. In a world where the big budget games show up every year with the latest and greatest in technical fidelity, and countless little indie projects are released every single day with weird and wonderful takes on what a video game can actually become. I now attempt to answer the question, whether or not there's still room for a game that doesn't do a whole lot of anything at all.
Yearly iterative games are nothing new in video game world, where it even seems like the measure of a successful franchise is whether or not it can sustain annual releases or not. However, while being a measure of success, this can also be a curse of limitations and uninspired development. After all, I'm sure we've all played an annual release and wondered what (if anything) has changed since the last time we dove in.
Taste is a wonderful thing that separates us all and shows off the kind of diversity that makes human existence so interesting and wonderful. Either that or I'm trying to justify the fact that my own taste often differs from many others' that I come into contact with. Whether it's books, movies, music, or video games, I seem to always find the thing that everyone hated, and enjoy the hell out of it.
I'm always in two minds about whether or not I should write about Early Access games, especially before they are finished. Part of me feels like it's a bit unfair to assess something that's in the process of being made, but a much bigger part of me says that if you're selling a promise, you're open for business. Besides, it's not as if I'm going to be playing anymore Flotsam anyway - just be warned that this game may change a lot by the time it eventually gets released.
Expectations are an interesting thing when it comes to entertainment media. In many ways, we're thrilled to have our preconceptions subverted and we love twists and turns. On the other hand, our monkey brains love the consistency that allows us to keep track of what's happening and follow a story from start to finish. Perhaps this is why so many of us feel short-changed when our expectations are completely thrown out the window.
Occasionally a game comes along that manages to subvert our expectations of what we think a game can be. I, of course, love this kind of creative diversion from the norm, even though it doesn't always pay off. Then again, it's only when a developer makes a strong artistic choice, that they enter the realm of opportunity that may provide room for creativity to truly grow until it becomes something special.
The last year has been a bit of an odd one for me when it comes to gaming. Throughout the year I played just over 100 games, but most of that time was spent finishing off older titles. I'm writing this so late because I still have a list of games from 2019 that I'm keen to try, but I have to pull the plug at some point and go with what I know.
Whenever a particular series of games has a monopoly on a genre, I'm always eager to check out any competition that crops up. This is often the case with sports games as real life teams and branding get licensed to a single developer and nobody really wants to play as fictional teams instead of the ones they actually support IRL. Thankfully though, there's a bit more variety to be found in the racing genre.
If you've ever read any of my posts before, you've probably heard me talk about "narrative" games and how much I like them. Although, there really isn't any definition of what makes something a "narrative" game per se, and I feel like I often use it as a short-hand to say "this has a good story, but maybe not much gameplay". In fact, I prefer the term over the more divisive "walking simulator", so perhaps I'm trying to be nice when I refer to narratives over simplistic gameplay.
It wasn't so long ago that I delved into Remedy Entertainment's odd sci-fi experience, Quantum Break, which now seems like an interesting experiment along the way to much better things. In fact it seems like they studio have learned a lot of useful lessons from some of the key successes and failures from this troubled entry in their development history.
Hype is a dangerous thing, and it's the main reason I was never looking forward to Death Stranding in any way at all. I'm completely sick of hearing about Kojima and how he's the golden god of game design. It seems like everyone on the internet has been creaming themselves over the potential of his latest game baby, which is enough to turn me off entirely - and for the most part, it did.
Of all the crazes and gimmicks that have had their time in video game history, full-motion-video (FMV) has never been one that I expected to make a comeback. There was a time when it seemed like the greatest invention of all, as the implementation of FMV in games meant that we could finally witness the combination of a digital world with our own. After all, what's more realistic than actual footage of real people?
Ever since I was a kid I've loved science fiction, but mostly one particular kind of science fiction that doesn't always stand out. I suppose a lot of the time when I mention science fiction, people tend to think up fantastical future things like Star Wars, or something completely off the wall like Transformers. While I do enjoy that side of the genre, what really gets me going are the stories that seem to be firmly tied to what's actually possible.
There aren't many genres that I tend to avoid like the plague, but horror has never really been my bag. The closest I get to modern day horror in media, is classical gothic literature, which is a different beast entirely. When it comes to movies and games, being scared is not something I find enjoyable, and my active imagination always ensures that I feel the spooks.
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?
