I only buy a lottery ticket when things aren’t going well.
On paper, I fit the fanboy bill. I’ve decreed my love of The Last of Us to not only my gaming friends, but to my parents, wife, and kids, all of whom I’m sure are dying to hear my thoughts on the sequel. I’ve played through the game twice on each of the last two generations of PlayStations. I even dabbled in the vastly underrated multiplayer despite my failed campaign to recruit my friends.
This proves that 1) I need new friends, and 2) I’m a devoted disciple of Naughty Dog’s tale of Joel, Ellie, and Friends.
So then, here’s the short version: The Last of Us Part II is the most disappointing masterpiece I’ve ever played.
I’d love to tell you more about Control, the eagerly-awaited Edge magazine coverbait from Remedy Entertainment, the mad Finns who brought us Max Payne, Alan Wake and Quantum Break. I’d love to. And I feel… I guess sort of qualified to do so, since I have played Control for a few hours. But I’m not going to. To heavily paraphrase a trademark opening line in the (delightful) Girlfriend Reviews videos…
This is not a review of Control. This is a review of what it’s like to wish Remedy would fix Control.
I default to assuming the worst about Rockstar Games. That is a reasonable position because Rockstar is the worst. My years in the industry have shown me little to contradict the impression that Sam and Dan Houser are egomaniacal assholes who treat their employees like garbage and perpetuate a studio culture fueled with fear, run by a leadership that never hesitates to lie on record.
The Housers insist they’re making some of the best games in the world, conflating “best” with “most successful.” I appreciate Rockstar’s consistently excellent stories, writing, and cinematics, but I’ve never truly warmed to any of their work. Imagine my surprise, then, when I fired up Red Dead Redemption 2, a game that’s breathtaking in experience, masterful in design, and almost incomprehensible in scope.
Last night I attended a special screening of Transformers: The Movie, which was held around the country. It was crowded and energetic, full of old fans like myself and with parents who wanted to show the movie to their young kids. It’s not what you could call a good film, objectively speaking, but it’s a film I love. I remarked aloud, leaving the movie, that it’s essentially the same movie as Infinity War. “Just skipping around incoherently from set-piece to set-piece, brutally killing off beloved childhood characters.” I paused and added, “I guess at least in Transformers, the soundtrack is better.” The guy next to me remarked: “And the acting.”
And it’s almost true. The big heavy of the film is Orson Welles, in his last role. He is phoning in a performance voicing what is effectively the robot devil. The audio is distorted to high heck because of his failing health at the time. It’s not a complex character role to play. But in spite of all that, the work is at least evocative.
Up-front trigger warnings make me dubious. They often read like attorney-mandated ass coverage instead of any actual effort at sensitivity. I tend to mentally translate them into the most sarcastic, least considerate reading I can imagine. Thus in my brain, the one preceding Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice goes like this:
This game has crazy people, so FYI if you’re a crazy person or if crazy people make you sad. Also check out our website. Because hellbladehelp.info is totally what you’d visit to learn about mental illness.”
I mean come on. As disclaimers go, it’s not even comprehensive. What if Hell makes you sad? Or blades make you sad?
I don’t want to bury the lede, so, if you read and reply to this article, you might win a small prize! Details below!
Over the next few articles I’m writing some recaps about my trip to PAX West in Seattle. While I was at the show I did the usual activities: played games, chatted with developers, and did a little cosplay. I also did something I had never done before at PAX, which is wait in line for several hours to watch other people play Dungeons & Dragons. And I also played a game which is in part about watching people play Dungeons & Dragons.
When his eyes meet yours, you know you want to stay. But if I stay, you think, it must be for the right reason. It must be because he is a magician who will help make my quest a success. It can’t be because of my feelings. I haven’t time for that now.
Should I just come right out and tell him what’s on my mind? you wonder. Or will he think I’m silly? Childish, even? Or should I just leave, and find a magician who won’t complicate my goal with romantic feelings?
“Must you go, Summer?” Folc asks.
What is your decision?
If you leave to find a magician who won’t be a romantic problem for you, turn to page 37.
If you stay, being honest with Folc about your feelings, turn to page 130.
I play fighting games for the story.
I say, “I play fighting games for the story,” and then, I usually follow up with the joke, “which is like saying that I read Playboy for the articles.”
But it’s true… or, it’s at least, partially true. I could say, rather, that I play fighting games for the characters. After all, colorful characters are the core of fighting games, and central to their appeal. But that’s not quite it, either.
The Nordic Games Conference is going on right now in Skyrim Sweden. There’s a vibrant Scandinavian developer ecosystem out there, and interesting stuff often comes out of this event, which I imagine to be rife with Viking-related imagery such as mead and hats with horns.
GamesIndustry.biz reports on a fireside chat (possibly in a longhall!) between Massive Entertainment’s Managing Director David Polfeldt and Fumito Ueda, the legendary artiste behind Ico, Shadow of the Colossus and (ZOMG) The Last Guardian.
Among other things, Ueda sort of reveals that he’s working on a new game, which is kind of a surprise. I at least had assumed he’d lost interest in game design, but his remarks seem to indicate the opposite. Which is exciting.
November of 2016 seemed a long way off when I kicked in my $50. Now, alas, it seems like we’ll have to wait another stretch after that before we get our hands on Ice-Pick Lodge’s anticipated Pathologic remake. The new target release is Fall 2017. That delay, while disappointing, isn’t much of a surprise.
DOOM is good, to general incredulity.
The whole world is loudly, vocally, relentlessly amazed. DOOM is good! Unbelievement! Dumbfoundery! Getouttaheah!
It occurs to me how cruel and backhanded this startled praise must feel to the developers. I mean think about it: You did your job well. Everyone is astonished. What a shitty compliment.
The indie RPG that everyone is talking about this season is a Gamemaker game called Undertale. I really enjoyed this game and think it’s absolutely worth playing. But the fan enthusiasm came near to putting me off, as fan enthusiasm can do. So here is Thought One: If you think you may at all have an interest in a quirky indie RPG, play Undertale without reading any spoilers. I didn’t even watch the trailer, and I think that’s for the best. Don’t listen to any fans until you’ve finished the game, because they’re gonna get all weird about it on you.
Speaking of which, the other two segments of this article contain spoilers – the first, vague but meaningful spoilers – the second, slightly more. So if you haven’t played it, you can stop now like I suggest, or keep reading a little until you know if this is a thing you want to pick up. Rock, Paper, Shotgun has another take on it that actually tells you more about what the game is like.
Time is running out to avoid a general strike among video game voice actors represented by SAG-AFTRA. The union has been in negotiations with major publishers for several months now, but so far neither side seems willing to give on its expectations. Eighty percent of game voice talent isn’t union, which makes their side a difficult one. Strike may be the only way to be heard.
Nintendo president Satoru Iwata died on 11 July at the age of 55, of complications caused by cancer from which he had been thought to be recovering. Any time someone dies young it’s a blow, all the more when the individual lost is such a significant and well-liked figure – an avalanche of tributes, many quite moving, appeared in the days following his death. Satoru Iwata became president of Nintendo in 2002, having risen through the ranks on various projects since the 1980s. Iwata-san’s personality was unusual for a titan of industry, and the way in which his personality fit into Nintendo’s character was also unique.
In 2005, he made a remark that sums himself up quite well.