Teleportation Horror

I've been playing Teleglitch recently, a top-down shooter inspired by the likes of Doom and Quake. The game has text logs that can be accessed from terminals that give insight into the lore of its universe. One the logs states this:

"The Teleglitch Incident 2"
The key for unlimited teleportation range is software that uses well packaged fuzzy randomness inside a fractal information structure that copies the human brain neural layout. Using the fuzzy randomness has a small chance to ocassionally [sic] produce super huge calculations in an instant, making teleportation possible for hyperlong distances. 

I found this statement to be both a disturbing and compelling as a fictional explanation for teleportation. Disturbing because it seems to place the life of the person being teleported at the mercy of some ill-defined "fuzzy math," the sort that George Bush liked to accuse his political opponents of using. Compelling in that such super jumps of physics are made possible by ambiguity, which you might say is an inherently literary concept. Numbers aren't ambiguous but interpretations are. So teleportation, in this log, ends up being where science and art meet, so to speak. The fusion of that which is inherently calculable with that which is inherently incalculable.

Anyway, this got me thinking about the use of teleportation more generally in fiction, games, and movies, and in particular, its application as a source of dread. Consider David Cronenberg's The Fly, or Frederik Pohl's Gateway, or even id Software's Doom. In each, teleportation serves as the main vehicle for narrative horror. There is something deeply unsettling about been transported, electrically, computational, across space and time, and each of these works taps into that in their own way, through mutated bodies, the fear of the unknown, and the threat of otherworldy intruders. But I wonder, what unites them all? Beneath the mutilations and invasions, what is the most basic thing that teleportation symbolizes that imparts to us such menace?

One possible reason has to do with what teleportation implicit says about the nature of the self. If a human can be broken down into a stream of data that can be re-assembled anywhere, then there isn't much room left for any sort of essentialist notion of the self or the soul. Teleportation basically says people, mind and body, are just data, no different than any other block of code. That's potentially a real blow to our collective egos. Saying I'm an individual (and think about how the word indicates something that can't be broken up) and realizing I'm a particular pattern of information are two very different things. In the latter, there really isn't any "there there," no true "I" behind the things we think and feel. Just a simulation of constancy that could be coming apart and back together again millions of times with every breath we take.

At the same time, teleportation horror is characterized by the trope that the transmission of data never goes as planned. Dematerializing and rematerializing from one location to another should be as easy as making a phone call or sending an email. But something always goes wrong. Bugs get in the unit, glitches get in the system, and the dream of pure communication becomes a nightmare of monstrosities. One of my favorite Next Gen episodes has Riker meet his teleportation-error produced doppleganger. The two gradually come to see each other as an enemy, even if they are technically the same person.

Still, I think there's something far more fundamental about teleportation horror. More than telling us we are just information or threatening us with mutants and clones, it seems to me that teleportation symbolizes in an interesting way our relationship with language, the oldest information technology known to man, and in particular, its use of metaphor. Metaphor, in its Greek roots, means "to carry over or transport" (meta=across/over, pherein=to carry). And that's what metaphors do too. They enable leaps of logic where two disparate things can be brought together. The flower of my heart or the apple in my eye. These things have no natural relationship, but with metaphor, they become welded together in a way that seems natural.

The horror element, we might say, comes from what literary critics call "catachresis." It denotes the way in which metaphor is inherently open to misuse and abuse. All metaphors are on some level disfiguring and mutating--a flower is grafted onto the someone's heart, an apple inserted into someone's eye. Convention, however, lets us pass over statements like apple in my eye as normal because we have heard them many times before and think we know their proper meaning. But say something like the apple in my ear, or even apple in my pupil, and suddenly people will look at you funny, like you yourself are some kind of monster. There's nothing less logical about these latter examples. They just aren't part of the established linguistic pattern.

What's more, new metaphorical combinations are appearing all the time, and nothing legislates which will be repeated and accepted and which will not. They are really out of our control and they remake the world anew over and over again with each new combination, linking our eyes to plant matter, our feet to wings, and our teeth to skin. And they are a foundational part of our thinking too because we often come to understand the world precisely through such metaphorical amalgamations (see Lakoff and Johnson's Metaphors We Live By for a great discussion of this). They are, to return to the opening quote from Teleglitch, that fuzzy math of randomness that nonetheless allows huge "hyperlong" calculations.

So if what comes out of teleporters in fiction is so often hybrid creatures and disfigured mutations, metaphors could be said to have been doing the same since the beginning of human consciousness. Both are about combining objects in unnatural ways through by overleaping time and space, and both come with the built-in threat of unpredictable distortion. The only difference is that one is a future science fiction and the other an ancient practice.

That leads me to say that teleportation horror is a metaphor for metaphor, or perhaps less playfully, metaphor made literal. Not a metaphor made literal, but metaphor itself render as a literal process. They're both scary because they both tie us deeply to something that we don't fully control or understand, but also compelling because they have so much to do with what we are and how we experience the world. Teleportation horror, as a kind of meditation on the mutating, hybriding, transporting power of metaphor, ends up being a representation of our complicated relationship with the world as language using beings.

Misunderstanding Feminism's Critique of The Witcher 3

Erik Kain's recent article on the issue of sexism in The Witcher 3 has prompted me to write a piece in response. The reason for this is not that Kain's arguments are particularly interesting or novel, but because they highlight some of the most common misunderstandings that prevent many intelligent people from grasping the feminist arguments advanced by critics such as Anita Sarkeesian. I'm going to elaborate on three of these misunderstandings in this blog post in order to bring some clarity to the situation.


Misunderstanding 1. Confusing the portrayal of sexism as dark and gritty with its thoughtful criticism. 

Kain uses his defense of George R.R. Martin's Song of Ice and Fire series and its representation of rape as an example of how the sexism in The Witcher 3 might be justified. He writes:

Some critics at the time argued that author George R.R. Martin included rape to titillate, not to show how dark and gritty Westeros was. They responded to the argument that this was a genuine attempt to show how bad things were for women in Medieval times by saying “Well it’s fantasy so that’s just sexist.”

This idea, that violence towards women in fantasy fiction works as a criticism of "how bad things were for women in Medieval times," gets raised a lot, but shows a misunderstanding of what most feminist writers mean by "critique." One point made repeatedly by feminists is that no matter how disturbing the portrayal of sexual violence against women in a work of fiction might be, it does not count as critique unless it goes to significant lengths to examine thoughtfully the systemic causes and cultural prejudices behind it. Lacking this level of development, the appearance of sexual violence ends up being a matter of exploitation, a means to stimulate and excite the player emotionally at the expense of a woman's dignity.

So if The Witcher 3's depiction of prostitutes, rape, and misogyny is more than just the usual forms of exploitation, it's up to the defenders of the game like Kain to show us where and how the game thoughtfully critiques sexism (beyond something like, "oh isn't it just awful!"). Kain doesn't provide such an account in his article.


Misunderstanding 2. Thinking that feminists want to counter sexism in fiction by forbidding its representation outright.

Kain makes this broad point in defense of The Witcher 3's inclusion of sexism in its universe:

Fiction is supposed to highlight real world issues. Rape is a real world issue. Sexism is something women actually confront in their jobs, at home. Why is it off limits to actually address that with fantasy fiction? 

This argument gets brought up a lot as a counter to Sarkeesian and others. It suggests that feminist critics are arguing for the wholesale elimination of the representation of sexism from all fiction, regardless of its context.

This is simply a misinformed view of the situation. No serious feminist critic is pushing for sexism, or any other topic for that matter, to be off limits for fiction. That would just be censorship.

Rather, what most feminist critics are focused on is how sexism is included in our fiction uncritically, unreflectively, for the sole purpose of entertainment (see point 1). Rape, physical abuse, sexual slavery, and other forms of misogyny are frequently put into fictional fantasy worlds to give it "color," to make it intense, stimulating, and/or exciting, without taking the time to responsibly explore the subject matter.

Fictional sexism might be reflective of real world sexism, but without contextualizing that in some way that interrogates the situation thoughtfully, simply putting it in the fiction contributes nothing positive, but has the effect of perpetuating it without any check.

Misunderstanding 3. Failing to see how one's own unconscious biases prevents one from understanding the debate on sexism. 

This one is more of a challenge than a misunderstanding. It is one of the harder points to grasp too, so I'll take it slow.

First, Kain argues against having something like gender equality in The Witcher 3 by stating the following:

There is fantasy out there where gender roles are much less traditionally defined. Lots of fantasy has tough warrior women who don’t need to be rescued by the knight in shining armor. It’s a genre that has a little bit of something for everyone. But much of it—the good stuff anyways—is believable.

What Kain goes on to argue from this paragraph is that putting gender equality in The Witcher 3 would undermine the realism of its medieval setting, and along with that, his ability to enjoy it. That's just how it was back then, he claims, and censoring that for the sake of some small group's "political agenda" would be silly.

At the same time, it must be noted, he has no problem with the inclusion of sorcerers and monsters (which certainly did not exist in any period of history) and does not see them as detracting from the game's realism.

Now why is this so? Why is it "the good stuff" if it breaks realism with magic and monsters but not the good stuff if it does that by changing the gender dynamics? What is behind this arbitrary preference for one flawed version of realism over another?

The reason, I would offer, is that Kain's preference is not really motivated by a desire for "realism" and beliveability but, like a lot of male gamers, by his unconscious wish to have his ego gratified. The sexism of The Witcher 3 flatters the male ego by repeatedly asserting its freedom to objectify women. Objectifying women gives men power over them and hence helps fulfill a typical male power fantasy. In other words, Kain tries to pass off his desire to indulge in a male-centered fantasy world in which women are objectified as a matter of realism when it is anything but.

If you don't believe this, consider for a moment how Kain and others who use the realism argument to justify misogyny in The Witcher 3 completely overlook how the game's so-called realistic depiction of medieval sexism is largely inaccurate. Women did not wear anything like the skimpy costumes and underwear portrayed in The Witcher 3 during that period, nor did not speak or behave in the ways represented in the game. No one, including Kain, however, seems to bothered by this lack of historical realism regarding the representation of gender in the game.

Kain therefore merely picks and chooses the bits of "reality" that most flatter his own sense of self-worth and accommodate his fantasies while ignoring the inconsistencies that come from this cobbling together. At the same time, he actively resists anyone that tries to point this out. Believability is only code for pleasure in his argument. Kain accepts what fulfills his fantasy (consciously and unconsciously) as reality and rejects what doesn't as unrealistic.

The psychological principle operating here is akin to the one used by con-artists. People are less likely to question things that please or flatter them, so hiding deceptions and lies within compliments is an effective way to create belief in them. Kain, like many male gamers, accepts the things that flatter and please his sense of self without much interrogation.

Conversely, male gamers like Kain will fight adamantly to convince themselves and others that they are not being conned. Games like The Witcher 3 appeal to sexist attitudes and fantasies that are gratifying to male egos. Because they flatter the male ego, male gamers are motivated to defend it. They don't do this consciously, but unconsciously they recognize that this certain thing (game) makes them feel good and because of this they see anything that would force them to see it for the flattery it is as a threat. If the fantasy were exposed, they would be deprived of the pleasure that believing in the fantasy (which is, by definition, a lie) gives them. So they attempt to argue that the fantasy (lie) is realistic (true).

Inevitability, because this line of argument is inherently irrational, it will fall apart when anyone looks at it carefully. This is the case with Erik Kain's defense of The Witcher 3, which, at its core, tries to convince us that a world populated by dragons, elves, and unicorns is more "realistic" than one in which women are not subject to ritual scorn and humiliation.

Metal Gear Solid and Psychoanalysis (Part I)

Though the Metal Gear Solid series has been the subject of countless analyses, one of its most important and challenging dimensions has gone utterly unexamined: its psychoanalytic narrative. To me, this is a major oversight. Symbols of castration, Oedipal conflicts, incest fantasies, and repression are all defining components of the MGS story. But no one (to my knowledge) has paid them any attention. This article is the first part in a series that will fill this gap in our critical appreciation of MGS.


Psychoanalysis?

Firstly, let me explain that when I say "psychoanalysis," I am referring to the seminal theories of Sigmund Freud and subsequent psychologists exploring the contents of the unconscious mind. Later in this article, I will get into the specifics of these theories. For now, suffice it to say that the basic premise of psychoanalysis is that the human psyche is rooted a set of early childhood conflicts that get repressed in adulthood. Being repressed does not mean they are forgotten. Rather, the early conflicts become unconscious templates for our future personalities and behaviors that guide us without us being aware of them. This is the core premise of psychoanalytic theory.

Some might object right here. "Hasn't Freud been discredited/disproven today?" Though this is a complicated issue, the simple answer is No. While it is true that in the U.S., psychology departments have a critical attitude toward psychoanalysis, in other regions, such as South America and Europe, it still has considerable clout. Furthermore, in the U.S. today, psychoanalysis is undergoing a mini-renaissance in the field of neurology.

More to the point, the scientific standing of psychoanalysis doesn't really matter for my analysis, because what we are talking about is the realm of art. Whether Freud is right or wrong, his theories have had a profound influence on writers and film makers, such as Alfred Hitchcock, Francis Ford Coppola, and Ridley Scott, who have found the unconscious to be a compelling concept for their works. MGS, as a series deeply informed by these specific film makers, inherits their Freudian influences as well, as I will show.


Big Boss and Oedipus

To get started, let's take stock of the fact that the central drama of the MGS series is an Oedipal conflict. Big Boss is himself an Oedipal figure: a tragic hero-king who loses an eye and is punished for his unwitting "incest" (in this case, incest with himself via cloning). More importantly, the sons (Solid, Liquid, Solidus), map out an Oedipal relationship by fighting with each other and against their father for control of their destinies. The sons are completely defined by their relationship to the father, not only because they are his clones, but because who and what they are is decided by how they relate themselves to him. Some fight to overcome him, while others endeavor to complete his plans. Whatever the case, their identities spring from and are shaped by his choices.

For many of Freud's patients, the image of the father, or "father imago," played a central role in constructing the unconscious mind. In essence, he found that an image/recording of the father from childhood would be implanted in the psyche. As a result, no matter how old one got, or whether one's actual father was still living, within the unconscious mind, one was forever engaged in a childhood struggle with the father, fighting (even though one consciously couldn't see it without Freud's help) to free oneself from his control. This battle was unconsciously shaping adult behaviors.

MGS essentials literalizes this relationship with the father imago by making the sons genetic clones of the father. In this case, the image of the father is literally copied into their genes. As a result, the sons can never be sure if they are unconsciously carrying out the program of the father or making their own independent decisions. This is thematizes for the player in the many instances in which Solid Snake must question the purport of his actions. Is he fighting against his father or, unwittingly, helping to create the world he wished for?

For example, Liquid's exchange with Solid toward the end of MGS1 highlights how Snake's actions might not be his own, but part of his genetic program:

Liquid: "So why are you here then? Why do you continue to follow orders while your superiors betray you?"

Snake: "..."

Liquid: "I'll tell you then. You enjoy all the killing! That's why."

Snake: "WHAT?!"

Liquid: "Are you denying it?! Haven't you already killed most of my comrades? I watched your face as you did it...it was filled, with the joy of battle."

Snake: "You're wrong..."

Liquid: "There's a killer inside you...you don't have to deny it. We were created, to be that way!"

Snake: "Created?"

Liquid: "LE ENFANTS TERRIBLES!"

In MGS series in general, the sons live in the shadow of the father. They are all fighting to define themselves in some relation to him. In MGS1, this is even figured by the location of "Shadow Moses." To be in the shadow of Moses is to be in the shadow the great patriarch-father of the West.


Please Don't Take Away My Solid Snake

To go deeper into the Oedipal dimensions of the MGS series, we need to discuss Freud's theory in more detail. For Freud, the Oedipal conflict crystallizes for the child around the struggle for the mother. The mother is, naturally, the child's first love object, as she is the source of his greatest pleasures and the fulfillment of his greatest needs (coddling, stroking, feeding). The problem, however, is that the child has a competitor for the mother's affections: father. This leads to an animosity toward the father on the part of the child. He is in the way of a perfect relationship with the mother.

Now Freud noted that this conflict between father and son was often "resolved" by a certain incident. At some point in the child's early life, he would catch sight of a naked woman (usually his mother or sister) and he would realize that they don't have a penis. The child would then wonder if this lack was a punishment, possibly dished out by the father (the most powerful figure in his life). This thought put the fear of god into the child and pressed him to give up fighting with father over the mother. Consequently, the son represses his desire for the mother and identifies with the father, working to become his copy.

The repression of the Oedipal conflict, however, does not mean it is over. Like all repressed content in the unconscious, it carries on in the life of the adult. In Freud's analysis, this most frequently translates to symbols of "castration," such as the loss of eyes, arms, legs, and or body parts in dreams and works of fiction. These images of dismemberment stand in for a more fundamental and earlier threat of loss posed by the all-mighty father, and serve as a perpetually warning.

MGS is covered with these symbols of castrations. Ocelot loses his arm. Liquid is dismembered. Raiden loses his arm. Miller loses a leg. Solidus loses an eye. Solid Snake loses his virility and, in a sense, his eye through replacement. These could all be read as figurations of the unconscious conflict with the father who threatens to unman his rebellious sons. In essence, all of these characters are metaphorically castrated for their opposition to the father.

Castration also appears in less obvious ways in the series. I would include Big Boss in this list of castrated characters. Though he is the father in the MGS series, he is also an Oedipal figure guilty of a symbolic incest (cloning). He is correspondingly castrated for this, losing his eye and arm. More subtly, Kojima makes castration a core feature of MGS2, as I have argued previously. He took away our Solid Snake (a great euphemism for an erection and phallic virility) and gave us a castrato to play with instead. The player was thus castrated by the game, unmanned by the character swap.


To Be Continued...

I have so much more to say in future posts, like how Solid and Liquid represent two different paths through the Oedipal conflict, the importance of Adam and Eve, the Garden of Eden, and their relation to Outer Heaven, and the psychoanalytic significance of the clones absent mother. So please check back soon for more!

A Reddit Conversation about Gender in Videogames

Below is a discussion about gender representation in videogames that I participated in on reddit. It begins with redditor DeckardPain expressing his frustration over the push to better representation. He fears it might cripple artistic freedom. But he is also trying to understand why it's such a big issue today. Redditor Genermis responds, but DeckardPain feels his questions aren't being answered. 

The Game Philosophe to the rescue! I went about systematically answering all of Deckard's Q's on the forum. The reply ending up being quite long so I decided that I would share it with my readers. The first part is a bit of the exchange between DeckardPain and Genermis. My response follows. Enjoy!

[–]DeckardPain 1 point 7 hours ago* 

Fair gender representation really doesn't have a place in any work of fiction in my opinion.

If the entire gender equality issue in video games gets to the point where developers are coerced into abiding by your specific standards and how you want to be seen as a gender, then where does the gender equality issue cross the line into the territory of game developers' & designers' freedom of expression?

If you're coercing game devs to represent X the way X wants to be seen every time, then doesn't it step on their toes a bit too much?

Example: MGS5's character Quiet. Kojima has had a risqué characters in almost every iteration of the MGS franchise. So why the problem now? Is it gender equality band wagoners just pointing the finger at anything they can? Is it that people are just becoming more and more meek? When did the movement of "you're hurting my feelings, please stop" from people older than high school kids become a thing? I'm not asking to irritate you, I'm asking because I genuinely don't get where this shit came from.

[...]

[–]Genermis 2 points 7 hours ago 

We are tired of being analyzed, defined and represented by people other than ourselves, or worse yet, not considered at all. We are frustrated by the imposed isolation and invisibility that comes from being told or expected to choose either a homosexual or heterosexual identity.
[...]

[–]DeckardPain 1 point 6 hours ago* 

While I don't necessarily get where you're coming from because I can't really relate to your issue, I don't disagree with you or think that your stance is wrong.

One of the biggest problems I have with discussing any controversial subject with someone who is a strong advocate for the subject on either side, is that they always feel the need to go into defensive mode straight from the start.

Try to believe me when I say I'm not typing it to troll, bash, or hate on you and your preferences.

Again I only posed the questions because people rarely ever think of the bigger picture outside of themselves. Now what I'm going to say may offend or make you angry, so I'm sorry but I'm going to say it anyways but please try to remember what is in bold above.

I get that you're passionate about the subject, but you honestly sound like some Anonymous fanboy preaching on your soapbox with your first reply to me. I get that this is a product of being passionate on a subject, and I'm not flaming you or shit talking you for it. Just wanted to make sure you were aware of how it appears to an outsider.

The initial question I posed was:

If the entire gender equality issue in video games gets to the point where developers are coerced into abiding by your specific standards and how you want to be seen as a gender, then where does the gender equality issue cross the line into the territory of game developers' & designers' freedom of expression?
If you're coercing game devs to represent X the way X wants to be seen every time, then doesn't it step on their toes a bit too much?

I would still really like this question answered as best you can, because I strongly support the idea of keeping gender equality out of all forms of fiction.

[–]TheGamePhilosophe 1 point 9 minutes ago 

I'll answer all of your questions.

where does the gender equality issue cross the line into the territory of game developers' & designers' freedom of expression?

First, calling certain groups' requests for representation a restriction on artistic freedom is a stretch. How is providing more choices and identities limiting creativity?

If you're coercing game devs to represent X the way X wants to be seen every time, then doesn't it step on their toes a bit too much?

Again, you're framing the issue as a zero sum game when it isn't. It's not about fighting over what X should be, it's about getting Y and Z to be part of the picture as well. It's not restricting representation, it's expanding it, it's multiplying the possibilities.

Kojima has had a risqué characters in almost every iteration of the MGS franchise. So why the problem now?

This is my favorite bit from you because it reveals so much about why you fail to grasp the issues at stake, so I'm going focus on it. 

You equate the current criticism of gender representation to something as trivial as the hurt feelings of high school kids and you wonder when people stopped growing up. 

Ironically, it is you who are still stuck in a high school mentality and the rest of the world that has grown up. Let me bring you up to speed.

The current critique of gender representation concerns centuries of a patriarchal worldview that sought to impose certain normative views of gender and exclude others that didn't fit into that scheme. This worldview, by the way, includes the placement of men above women, the treatment of women and objects of property (literally property not that long ago), and the labeling of homosexuals as diseased criminals (up until the 1970s in the US, gay men could be ordered by a court of law to undergo electroshock therapy to "cure" them of their disorder). The discrimination still continues today in powerful ways that include the pervasive representation of women as sex objects in popular media (the Quiet, for example) and the widespread resistance to recognizing homosexuality, bisexuality, and transgendered individuals as legitimate sexual orientations and identities.

"Hurt feelings," I hope you can see, doesn't quite capture the significance of a centuries-old culture of systematic oppression that gender critics are shedding light on today. Would you call the discussion about slavery and segregation in US and the social inequalities of its aftermath still felt today a matter of "hurt feelings"? Would you say the discussion about the colonial rape of natural resources in Africa and Asia by Europeans in the 19th century, and the systemic poverty and political turmoil that carries on today as a result of it, "hurt feelings"?

Is it gender equality band wagoners just pointing the finger at anything they can? Is it that people are just becoming more and more meek?

No and No. People are becoming more conscious of the historical and contemporary realities of gender discrimination (just as they are about race, class, and exploitation) and they are beginning to challenge people who perpetuate (consciously or unconsciously) the values and norms that have privileged a certain white, male identity at the expense of everything else.

where does the gender equality issue cross the line into the territory of game developers' & designers' freedom of expression?

I have something else to say about this question because it gets raised a lot. No one is trying to deny artists freedom of expression in any legalistic sense. The current criticism about gender is an extension of the freedom of expression--the freedom of critique. Anyone who wants to participate in any public forum, in a free society, has to accept this as part of the package. You post on Reddit or a forum, you are implicitly accepting that others can respond to your statements in any way they want. The same is true for works of art and consumer products. Creators have the right to make what they want, and the rest of the world has the right to say and criticize it however they want.

You might be thinking now, "Bah, bah, bah, bah doesn't that put pressure on creators to conform to the whining babies? Won't that push them to compromise their artistic vision?"

The answer is that this will depend on each creator. If his/her "artistic vision" entails a game with scantly clad women being rescued by muscle-bound white men, he or she is free to pursue that vision to his/her heart's content. If the voices of others point out the ways the creation perpetuates values that have systematically oppressed millions and this makes the creator feel uncomfortable, that's just too bad for the creator. Freedom of expression is a two-way street.

You see Deckard, we live in what's called a "society," and part of growing up in this society is realizing that it consists of other people who don't always agree with us or share our values or, heaven forbid, challenge our worldviews (even if we are video game makers!). I know it sucks. It'd be great if we could all just live in our own specially designed echo-chambers and have our egos endlessly gratified, but that's just how things are. Try to manage as best you can.

Bloodborne's World Will Be Divided, Not Interconnected.

Watching the recent IGN gameplay video, it seems that Bloodborne's approach to world design will follow the template of Demon's Souls fairly closely.

In Demon's Souls, players accessed the game's main zones through a central hub called the Nexus. Within the Nexus were several "Archstones" (one for each zone) that allowed the player to warp to a specific area. The zones, though they could be intricately designed themselves, were not however connected with each other, nor was the hub world attached to any of them. Rather, each zone simply had its own subzones which would be accessed by through its designated Archstone.

For many, this was a design shortcoming that Demon's Souls spiritual successor, Dark Souls, overcame by replacing the Nexus and its Archstones with a fully interconnected world in which bonfires provided checkpoints.

It seems that Bloodborne is backsliding on this point.

At around 5:10 in the IGN video linked above, you can see the player use a "headstone of awakening" to warp from a central hub, called the Dream Refuge, to the zone "Above Ground." Specifically, the player selects the subzone called First Floor Sickroom. Crucially, other, yet-to-be-activated headstones can be seen nearby.

Later in the video, after the player has progressed through the area, another subzone (Central Yharnam) is added to the Above Ground headstone. The player returns to the Dream Refuge hub and uses the headstone to warp back to this more advanced point.

The scheme appears identical to that of Demon's Souls' unlocking subzones. But how does this show that Bloodborne will be subdivided like Demon's Souls? After all, couldn't it be the case the world is still interconnected like Dark Souls, just with a detached hub world grafted on top of it?

My answer is that it is highly unlikely that Bloodborne's world will be fully interconnected, and that instead, interconnection will be limited to self-contained zones. Here's why:

If the world were fully interconnected, there would be no need for the multiple headstones of awakening we see in the Dream Refuge hub. The only reason for having multiple headstones would be a divided game world.

Think about it. If the world were completely interconnected like Dark Souls, then any warp point should be able to send you to any other warp point. Having more than one headstone in the hub world would then be a pure redundancy with no purpose. Since it's implausible that the designers of the game would just throw in unnecessary headstones, there must be something that makes them useful. And the only thing that would make multiple headstones useful would be the existence of disconnected zones.

Another point to consider is the fact that when the player in the video touches the second warp point, Central Yharnam, that returns him back to the hub (15:07), the menu that pops up does not give him the option of warping to the First Floor Sickroom warp point. He is only given the option to return to the Dream Refuge--just as in Demon's Souls where warp points could only take you back to the Nexus and not send you to other areas (even areas within the zone you are playing).

Some might wonder why From would do this. Don't they understand that Dark Souls' interconnected world was a major improvement over the hub system of Demon's Souls!

The fact is, there are plenty of reasons why From would decide to do this. One is load times. Having a fully interconnected world presents design challenges concerning where to conduct loading as the player moves through the world. From might have decided to simplify this by putting hard divisions between areas.

Another possible reason is the inherent difficulty of designing a fully interconnected world. From might not have had the time to do this, and decided instead to focus on making each zone itself interconnected without bothering to make all the zones come together as well.

Of course, without official confirmation or more gameplay, this remains speculation on my part. But I feel confident that what I've said will prove to be true. What we've seen just doesn't make sense otherwise.

But what do you think? Would you welcome a return to the Demon's Souls hub system? Or are you disappointed that From is taking a step backward? Let me know in the comments below.

The Evil Within Review

The Evil Within is what you call "a flawed gem." Having played through the game on Survivor difficulty and being about to finish a run on Nightmare, I can say with some authority that the game is seriously bogged down in a lot of frustrating stuff. For example, there's a crate you can hide in one of the game's later chapters. On several occasions (but not consistently), I was "seen" by a patrolling zombie through the crate's wall, resulting in an insta-gameover (you can't be spotted in this section). More generally, the stealth in the game is not implemented well, and the same can be said for context sensitive actions, which are often finicky.

But despite these flaws, there are just a number of things that The Evil Within does well or interestingly that make it a compelling game for me. It's very challenging and demands a good deal of effort from the player. At the same time, it's a quirky game with an off-kilter sensibility and rhythm that make it stand out from the herd. These parts come together and create a kind of synergy.

The first thing we can talk about is its story. Its disorienting and fragmentary presentation is unconventional in the world of videogames. I lot of people dislike it for this reason, but I personally find it stimulating and intriguing. Rather than being direct and concrete, the narrative is dreamlike and abstract. Think David Lynch rather than Cormac McCarthy, because enjoying the story requires a certain appreciation for the surrealist tradition and its willingness to defy logical conventions. You'll have to think about the narrative if you want to make connections between events in the game, and some questions have no clear answers, but the invitation to think and speculate is something I find rewarding in and of itself.

For example, I would contend that the stylistic direction of the game is meaningfully connected to the actual narrative. Both (style and story) communicate the idea that identity and consciousness are fragile constructions of the mind that can be broken and refashioned. TEW's central villain, Ruvik, is a scientist interested in just this, i.e., the constructedness of selfhood and how it can be taken apart and made into something else. Narrative and autobiography play a major role in creating our sense of self, and the fact that TEW is willing to play with this by presenting an incomplete portrait of its events fits into this exploration of the artificiality of the self.

Unique game mechanics also serve to elevate TEW. For example, enemies get up a lot after being shot, even though they seem to be dead. To be sure they won't harass you any further, you have to burn them with matches, which are a limited resource. Viewed "realistically" it's a silly contrivance. You even have to upgrade your character so he can carry more than five matches at a time. However, in the heat of battle, it adds layers of depth and strategy to the game that are fairly unique. You can burn nearby enemies by setting a fallen undead on fire. This leads to tense situations where you use yourself as bait to lure monsters to a body, only to set both ablaze with a well-timed strike. It's nonsensical and gamey, but it's also a lot of fun and unlike anything else.

The game's aiming system is another strength I feel that most reviewers have passed over. What's special about it is that aiming your weapon zooms the camera into essentially a first-person perspective. Where most third-person shooters keep the camera just behind and above the avatar's shoulder, in TEW, you zoom right past that position to look through the character's eyes. This really threw me the first time I used a gun, but in time, I came to really appreciate the way it made battle more immersive and heightened in detail, as it is in FPS's.

As a survival horror game, TEW pulls no punches. The scales almost always feel like they are tipped against you and, for the most part, this is intentional. Opponents are usually faster, stronger, and more resilient. Resources are limited, traps are devious, and checkpoints are erratic. Overall, these design decisions serve to enhance the game.

For starters, by putting the player at a distinct disadvantage, the game embraces survival horror in ways that recent games seem afraid to. TEW isn't scary per se, but it keeps ever mindful of your situation and vulnerability, pressing you to look nervously around every corner wondering what's coming next. The relative slowness of your avatar is as essential to this feeling as is your limited ammunition. It has its shortcomings, but I find this version of survival horror more satisfying than those conjured up in Dead Space and The Last of Us. Dead Space indulges power fantasies by putting the player in the position of a powerful cyborg with advanced weaponry, and relies on jump scares and monster closets for its horror, which becomes tedious and predictable fairly early on. The Last of Us relies on visuals and narrative to shock the player rather terrifying gameplay. TEW, by contrast, achieves its horror through its core mechanics.

More significantly, difficulty is how TEW shows its respect for the player as a thinking, curious, problem-solving human being. The game is rough around the edges, but much of that comes from the fact that it isn't holding your hand and telling you what to do. Instead, the game wants the player to figure things out for him or herself. This can and will lead to confusion and frustration, but it is, perhaps unavoidably, a necessary corollary to letting the player discover things in his/her own way. There's a lot of viable paths to tackling a problem in TEW, and most of them require intelligence and foresight. The third chapter of the game, which pits you against a village full of undead and traps, manages this brilliantly. Occasionally, things don't work well, but this is more the exception than the rule and only becomes genuinely bothersome on the highest difficulties.

I think it's this commitment to serious game design that ultimately sold me on TEW. At every moment, from fighting, to resource management, to upgrading my stats between levels, I felt the game effectively communicated that how things went down depended on me and the choices I made. It respected me to think for myself when confronted with a challenge and to deal with the consequences of my actions. It regularly threw new problems my way and rarely played the same trick twice. As a result, each session felt fresh and exciting.

I'm surprised at how much I've enjoyed playing The Evil Within the past four weeks, because it's a game with serious issues. As many critics have pointed out, the controls and mechanics are opaque and sometimes inconsistent, and in many ways it is a throwback to a long-gone era of gaming. And yet, despite these problems, I've played this game more and had more fun with it than its more polished survival horror stablemates such The Last of Us and Dead Space. Sometimes I wonder if I like TEW because its flaws and not in spite of them as they give it a certain charm. But ultimately I think that in today's AAA culture of playing to the lowest common denominator, it's a pleasure to play a game that isn't afraid to treat me as an adult. 

Bloodborne Multiplayer Needs More Innovation

After watching some of the streams of the Bloodborne alpha today, I can't help feel that, at least in terms of the multiplayer, the game comes off as a little stale. 

I was hoping for some real innovation in this department. So far, things seem pretty much the same, with only superficial differences. Messages, bloodstains, and phantoms are still there, only now the messages appear as a scroll, the bloodstains are a tombstone, and phantoms are more wire-frame. Otherwise, they function exactly the same. Wow, what a revolution!

I haven't seen much of any co-op, but from what I've read, it seems you ring a bell to summon/be summoned. Again, not a huge change.

It might be premature, but it's starting to look like Miyazaki's secretiveness about the multiplayer system was only hiding the fact that there's nothing to hide at all.

It's a shame, because just on my lonesome, I've been able to think up much better things to do with the game. For example, why not ditch the cumbersomeness of selecting text messages and instead let the player hit a button that begins recording their play for 30 seconds. Players could teach other players about secrets and strategies by letting that recording float around the server. Helpful phantoms could be thanked by shaking the controller.

Or how about, for co-op, make it truly seamless by having players enter and exit each other's worlds automatically, without prompting. Determining whether the other player is friend or foe would become a tense, but inevitable, part of gameplay experience. Co-operation would finally have real weight and consequences, as now working together would require an actual bond of trust.

Neither of these things would have been impossible to implement. But instead of pushing themselves, FROM seems to have decided to retread their once revolutionary, but now overly familiar, multiplayer ideas.

Bloodborne's Gameplay and Difficulty: On the Mainstreamification of the Souls Series

 

With all the recent info that has come out on Bloodborne this past week, I've decided to write-up my own thoughts about the game at the moment. Mainly, I've noticed a couple of things about the game that I think people have generally missed because they require you to read between the lines of all the various press releases, interviews, and demonstrations that have come out over the weeks leading up to and including Gamescon. These points have to do with the nature of Bloodborne's gameplay and its difficulty, as well as with how these things fit into the evolution of Souls series toward what can be called the "mainstream gaming audience."

First, regarding Bloodborne's gameplay: After reviewing the leaked footage from Gamescon and assessing it in light of From's past statements about the game, I've come to the conclusion that although Bloodborne's dark aesthetic is reminiscent of Demon's Souls and Dark Souls, its design is much more influenced by Dark Souls II. In the first place, Bloodborne will return us to Dark Souls II's emphasis on mob combat with renewed force. Watching the Gamescon footage, you will see that players come against many enemies who attack in groups rather than one-on-one. This was a gameplay direction introduced by Dark Souls II and it marked a significant departure from the previous two Souls games which favored single enemy encounters. It's safe to say that the mob combat style will be a staple of Bloodborne as well, as From has said more than once that the threat of being overwhelmed by multiple enemies is part of the game's core design philosophy.

Another point to consider is how Bloodborne constructs player's combat repetoire. Like Dark Souls II, Bloodborne will emphasize the agility of the player. Dark Souls II made this into its own stat within the RPG mechanics of the Souls series. Its function in that game was to increase the character's ability to react swiftly and dodge enemy attacks. In Bloodborne, this stat has been made into an obligatory feature of  gameplay, with evasive swiftness now being a necessary part of the player's toolset rather than an optional playstyle. In essence, what was a new, experimental mechanic in Dark Souls II will now be a crucial, required component of Bloodborne.

There are lots of other little things that suggest that Bloodborne and Dark Souls II are conceptually connected in terms of design. The return of torches and dark spaces in Bloodborne hints that this attempted and seemingly abandoned mechanic in Dark Souls II is being re-attempted in Bloodborne. Also, at least one character revealed in the Gamescon footage appears to be a near copy-and-paste of an enemy from Dark Souls II. I am speaking here of the cloaked monster banging on the gate that appears around 2:45 in this video. The enemy is very similar to the Undead Jailors fought in the Lost Bastille section of Dark Souls II.

I think these links between Dark Souls II and Bloodborne should be seen as very significant. For starters, it undermines a hard and fast division between the two games that many fans have imagined to exist within From Software's development process. In an interview with Miyazaki (the director of Demon's Souls and Dark Souls), it was reported that Dark Souls II was developed by a separate team of which Miyazaki was not a part. At the time, Miyazaki was actually working on Bloodborne with another team. Some have used this fact as a way of asserting that Bloodborne will be cut from a whole other cloth from that of Dark Souls II. I think these initial comparisons between the games that I have made suggest a different relationship between the two games. Rather than happening in separate isolation chambers, it's clear that there was a good deal of communication and shared design ideas between the two teams. Indeed, it appears that the two games grew out of the same pool of ideas and were guided by same overall plan to re-tool the series into something else. It is this something else that I think fans of the first two games should take time to pause and consider, because it is part and parcel with From's apparent plan for the series since the success of Dark Souls.

The plan, in brief, is to make the Souls series into a more mainstream affair--a plan that, however beneficial it may be to the game's creators, conflicts with what some, including myself, would call the "purity" of the series. This purity, for better or worse, has to do with the uncompromising sense of difficulty, both in terms of figuring out how the overall game system works and mastering the individual challenges presented moment to moment, that the series reintroduced to the world. This is probably the most touchy subject for the games. In the past, any hint that their "hardcore" aspects would be pared back has been swiftly denounced by the most ardent fans. At the same time, there has been a consistent appeal from the wider gaming community that the game be made less unwelcoming to less dedicated gamers. Like it or not, From has shown itself to be more interested in reaching out to the latter group than in satisfying the hardcore desires of the former, and this is an attitude and approach that is written all over what we've been shown about Bloodborne so far.

Going back to the game's release at E3, snippets leaking out of a press meeting about Bloodborne being a less difficult game have been making the rounds. At Gamescon, some of these rumors became more concrete through some of From's own statements. According to multiple outlets, its developers are saying that "the sense of punishment is much less" this time around, explaining that they are aiming for a "wider audience." Some high profile fans, such as VaatiVidya, have been quick to dismiss the concerns rising from this, telling us to "trust in Miyazaki." Well, we've already been around that block before with Dark Souls II and its own "accessibility-gate," and we know where that ended, don't we?

Dark Souls II isn't a bad or easy game by any stretch of the imagination, but most fans of the first two games agree that a number of key elements that made Dark Souls and Demon's Souls so special, such as the large gaps between save-points and the regeneration of enemies, were significantly watered down in Dark Souls II. Other areas of compromise included the addition of voice-chat and targeted co-op, both of which I wrote about before the game came out. These were concessions to vocal gamers who weren't happy with the past entries and wanted to see the series remade along more popular conventions. From reps, including a Namco-Bandai Community Manager in response to my article, assured that these changes were not indications of series dilution (see the comments section of my post linked above). Once people finally got their hands on the game, however, it quickly became clear that something had happened to the Souls series over the course of Dark Souls II's development. Its vitality had been lost. Players weren't as moved by it as they were by the other games. Even diehard fans like EpicNameBro seem to have become apathetic to Dark Souls II at this point, despite having worked on the game's official strategy guide. Following its release, he hasn't done anything with the game in months.

Now, on the eve of Bloodborne's announcement, we are faced with the same situation, the same worries and apprehensions. From is once again making sounds about decreasing difficulty to reach a wider audience, and certain individuals are once again out in full force putting down anyone who dares to raise an eyebrow at these statements. My point is that we should learn from history and read these signs for what they are. Since Dark Souls, From has sought to market its series to an increasingly mainstream audience and the consequence of this is that it has become incrementally less compellingly intense and more banally accommodating.

Watching the demo footage from Gamescon and reading journalists' reports, it seems that Bloodborne will continue this trend by being a more forgiving game. Not only is the player character more agile than ever, making dodging considerably easier, the game further decreases the difficulty by installing a "regain" mechanic that lets player's quickly recoup lost health by (wildly, from the footage we've seen) striking back at enemies. In the demo footage leaked, one can see relatively inexperienced players gain back large swathes of health in this way simply by button-mashing. Some will defend this by citing reports that the difficulty of the demo was toned down to let players experience the full package. I remain skeptical of this. If thought about, the idea doesn't make much sense. Wouldn't that be tantamount to deceiving potential customers about the nature of the game, while at the same time alienating the series' biggest fans? I'm of the opinion that From's claim about the demo being dumbed-down is probably just a cover to stop diehard Souls players from finding out the truth until it's too late.

Some people say that we should simply trust in From. The same thing was suggested for Dark Souls II. Others try to blame Dark Souls II's failings on the absence of Miyazaki from the project, and using that as proof that Bloodborne will be better. I say such thinking is naive. There is clearly a great deal of overlap in terms of the concepts and design for both games, developed in tandem. If Dark Souls II failed to live up to the undiminished intensity of the prior games, it was not because Miyazaki wasn't involved in it. Rather, the shortcomings of Dark Souls II reflect From Software's new view of the Souls series as a mainstream title. Far from disappearing from Bloodborne, this broad-appeal philosophy clearly continues to be a driving force in its creation.

I worry that Bloodborne will  likely continue From's search for a wider audience by being a less demanding and less punishing game. I doubt it will be an easy game, and I hope there will be some good challenges along the way, but overall, I can't help but wonder if it will be part of the series' incremental slide to the lowest common denominator of video game culture, at which point violence, instant gratification, and accessibility become king.

Bloodborne Composer Revealed

Last week it was revealed that recording for the upcoming From Software title, Bloodborne, was being done at Air Lyndhurst Studios in London. Now, further information about the game's composer has materialized (courtesy of the Bloodborne Unofficial Blog). It appears that at least some of the music for Bloodborne will be the work of movie and videogame composer Michael Wandmacher.

Here's a little from his work bio:

Composer Michael Wandmacher is one of most diverse talents working in film music today. His resume of over 50 titles includes composing scores for films and television across multiple genres, videogames, songwriting, remixing, producing, and music design. As a stalwart composer in the horror and thriller genres, he provided scores for Patrick Lussier’s My Bloody Valentine 3D, which grossed over $100M worldwide and director Alex Aja’s Piranha 3D. He also created the high-octane action scores for Marvel’s Punisher: War Zone, Drive Angry, and the now-cult-classic actioner Never Back Down.

Wandmacher has also composed music for videogames, including Activision's Singularity and Sony's Twisted Metal re-launch. A brief scan of Wandmacher's work reveals that he specializes in horror scores. This mostly reinforces early impressions about the tone of Bloodborne being darker than prior Souls titles.

If you're curious to hear some of his work, you can find an example here.

I'm interested to find out what fans think of this development. Is this a good or bad step for the Souls series? Does the hiring of Wandmacher mean that fan-favorite composer Motoi Sakuraba won't be involved in the game? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below.

Destiny Beta Review, Or Why $500 Million Doesn't Necessarily Make a Good Game

Like many people, given all the hype surrounding Bungie's new game, Destiny, I had high expectations going into the game's beta test that began on Thursday. With the famed creators of the Halo series behind the wheel, $500,000,000 of funding, and Peter Dinklage's voice, how could the game be anything short of stellar? Unfortunately, it seems that Destiny is something less. Destiny is a well-constructed first person shooter with some mmorpg elements and novel mechanics thrown into the mix. But great it is not. In fact, to be perfectly honest, my overall experience of the beta was pretty bland. In what follows, I explain why.

But first, let's talk about what Destiny gets right, because the game certainly deserves some credit for its achievements.  

Destiny has one of the slickest interfaces I have every had the pleasure of navigating. Everything about it, from the way you move a cursor across the screen to the satisfying manner in which buttons highlight when you hover over them, makes the user feel like he or she is playing on a computer rather than a console. More significantly, the way the interface gently guides you through its various menus for upgrading, messaging, and equipment management is remarkably graceful. The interface lets you know what can be upgraded, what new equipment is available, and how much progress until your next level at a glance, without ever being burdensome. It's obvious that significant thought went into this part of the game and it should be a lesson other developers.

The shooting mechanics also deserve praise. Destiny's guns have real heft to them when being fired. Shots crackle and whiz through the air more impressively than in perhaps any other game today. Control is tight and refined, with the enemy A.I. helping to bring this into relief. Badies duck, cover, and jump around the arena, taking potshots and lobbing grenades at you from multiple angles. Whenever you take out one these foes with a well timed shot to the head, you really appreciate Bungie's expertise in this area.

As the sheen of these achievements fades away, however, Destiny's lack of ingenuity begins to show. As good at being an fps as Destiny is, it doesn't offer anything cohesive that transcends the limitations of the genre that have set in over the past twenty or so years.

Most disappointing are the role-playing mechanics. In Destiny, you level up by accruing XP gained in combat which in turn unlocks new abilities and power ups that make your character ever deadlier. This was something that really appealed to me going into the beta. What I found out, however, was that there wasn't much "role-playing" to this rpg mechanic. In most rpg's, the player makes decisions about allocating points into different stats, creating a unique character-build over time suited to his or her playstyle. Destiny doesn't go this route. Rather, character development in the game is largely automatic, with abilities and power-ups simply unlocking for your use. There's no real thought or design that goes into developing your character. And it's hard to become invested in this process as a result.

A similar point about a lack of immersion can be made regarding Destiny's mission design. What I had hoped for was a big, open world in which I could adventure, explore, meet other players, and quest, i.e., many gameplay loops intersecting each other at multiple points. Instead, Destiny's gameplay loop is much more singular. You choose a chapter to play and you are then transported to the map where it takes place. You then follow the waypoints set by your computer, called a "ghost," and fight enemies along the way until you reach your goal.

There's really nothing to distract you along the way during Destiny's missions, no intriguing ruins or towers in the distance to investigate, no strange creatures prowling about, or npc's asking for assistance. The process is instead highly linear, with you generally following the obvious path carved out for you by the designers. The one exception is the random events that take place on occasion, which are essentially timed challenges where you fight a shipment of enemies being dropped somewhere on the map. But it's so contrived (a big message flashes on the screen telling when it's happening) that I hesitate to call it anything more than a minor diversion.

The beta does have a "mission" option, titled "Explore," that invites the player to roam about the map. But here enters another problem: the world design is so bland and uninteresting that it doesn't provide any intrinsic motivation to venture out into it. Destiny doesn't really feel like a world as such, but a large multiplayer map with some loot scattered about. Some people will be fine with this and will be happy just to run around with other players shooting up various mobs as they spawn and respawn, but I myself like my game worlds to have a little more depth and range.

I think a better version of Destiny would have instead focused on crafting one, huge open-world that encouraged players to venture out and find things to do, people to meet, and mysteries to uncover. There would be towns scattered about where players would trade, re-equip, form parties, and plan adventures. It would be a less designer-centered experience, and more of a player-driven one, all lovingly-wrapped in the flawless fps mechanics and gameplay that Bungie has come to stand for.

I suppose I can't say I'm terribly surprised that Destiny has turned out the way it has. Given the immense financial investment that went into it, you might say it was almost inevitable that it would be a more straight-forward, linear action affair. "Accessibility" is the word here. Bungie and their publisher Activision need to sell a lot of copies of this game to recoup what they've spent on it. Sadly, for most game companies, this means appealing to the lowest common denominator. If a game is too intricate or too difficult to get into at the beginning, it risks alienating players and potential customers. For this reason, Bungie has made the game's level cap extremely unambitious (rumored to be at level 20). As their investiment lead, Tyson Greens said (as reported by Eurogamer): "We wanted levelling up and reaching a cap something you don't look at and say, 'well, that will take me weeks so therefore I can't play with my friends who are already at the level cap.'" No doubt Bungie came to a similar conclusion about making a more layered and intricate game.

It's a shame that game design today is ruled by such narrow thinking and that developers have so little faith in their audience's desire to be challenged in ways that go beyond traditional areas of effective combat. Destiny could have been something truly special. As it stands, at least from what the beta shows us, it is a solid first person shooter with pretensions that it doesn't live up to.

Why Are The Newest Next-Gen Games 30 FPS?

The next-generation of gaming has promised consumers a new level of technical fidelity for the games they play. In the early days of PS4 and Xbox One, this meant not only beautiful textures and dynamic lighting presented in 1080p, but rock-steady 60fps (frames per second) gameplay as well, the current holy grail of framerate enthusiasts.

Things looked auspicious in the beginning. Games like MGSV: Ground Zeroes and Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag hit these benchmarks admirably (at least on PS4). But if you've been paying attention to the latest gaming news, you might have noticed that several of the big upcoming releases, including The Order: 1886 and Bloodborne, while holding firm to 1080p, are targeting a not so impressive 30fps. Other games, such as Ubisoft's Assassin's Creed Unity, while still reportedly "aiming" for 60fps, are showing signs through early testing that this might be wishful thinking.

So why is this happening? Why would developers slide back on their promise to deliver us butter smooth framerates for our games? Is it because the new consoles simply can't handle 60fps? No, they obviously can and have. So what is the reason?

The simple truth is that the handful of 60fps games that came out at the beginning of the PS4/Xbox One console generation belong to a brief framerate golden age that was destined to pass away quickly. It's not that developers couldn't keep making games that run at 60fps, because they certainly could. It's that while developers are convinced that great graphics help sell their products, they don't believe high framerates have the same positive effect.

Mike Acton of Insomiac Games sums up the mentality succinctly in his company's report on the importance of framerate for sales:

[...]during development, there are hard choices to be made between higher quality graphics and framerate. And we want to make the right choices that reflect our commitment to providing you with the best looking games out there. To that end, our community team did some research into the question of framerate. The results perhaps confirmed what I've known for a long time, but found it difficult to accept without evidence. They found that:

• A higher framerate does not significantly affect sales of a game.
• A higher framerate does not significantly affect the reviews of a game.

Most significantly, they found that "there was a clear correlation between graphics scores in reviews (where they are provided) and the final scores." In other words, the better looking the game, the better the final score it received. Conversely, they found "no such correlation between framerate and the graphics scores nor the final scores."

What this means is that developers have a clear incentive to push the graphics of their games to the upper limit of what their hardware can handle, because better graphics means better sales. Developers do not, on the other hand, have any clear incentive to deliver higher framerates, as higher framerates do not tangibly influence sales. Thus, when it comes time for marking hard decisions, developers will almost always give preference to graphics over framerates.

It's important to realize that it will always come down to making these hard choices. Console hardware is inherently limited in ways that PC's are not. Developers can tweak and streamline software to better take advantage of  a console's resources, but they can't add more RAM, for example, should they decide they needed it. A consoles's material resources are, for all intents and purposes, finite and fixed. Every developer has to choose how they are going to allocate those resources. They can choose to give priority to higher framerate or graphics, but choose they must. And the fact is, the choice will always be to prioritize the graphics of a game.

Some might wonder why game developers can't have their cake and eat it too. The key here is to understand that increasing the graphical fidelity of a game exponentially increases the processing power needed for a high framerate. With cross-gen games like Ground Zeroes and Assassin's Creed IV, the graphics could only be pushed so much because the games had to be feasible on the older consoles. That left plenty of room for higher framerates. The newer, next-gen only games, however, don't have that limitation imposed on them. Instead, developers are free to push the graphics to the system's limits. Will developers hold back on the graphics in this situation to ensure they have resources for running the game at 60fps? Absolutely not. And as the graphics arms race continues over the next several years, the chance of anyone getting a game to run at 60fps will be approximately nil.

Just take a look at what Dana Jan, game director for The Order, has to say on the issue:

I don't know of any other games that are gonna look like our game[...]with all the stuff that's going on lighting-wise, and run at 60. I think that's probably the thing that most people underestimate is [that] to make a game look like this—the way that they're lit, the number of directional lights that we have… We don't have a game where you're just outside in sunlight, so there's one light. We have candles flickering, fires, then characters have lights on them. So [to make] all those lights [work] with this fidelity means, I think, until the end of this system most people won't have any clue how to make that run 60 and look like this

Not until the end of this console generation's life does Jan think we will have games looking as good as The Order running at 60fps. This doesn't bode well for the future of 60fps console gameplay. Because you can bet your life that developers looking at The Order today aren't thinking to themselves, "How can I get a game that looks as good as The Order to run at 60fps?" No, they're thinking, "How can I make a game that looks even better than The Order run at a passable framerate?"

Titanite or Tediumite? An Argument for a Purely Stat Based Equipment System in the Souls Series

Going back to the Dark Souls PvP scene, I've found the decision to include a weapon/armor upgrade system perplexing. From my perspective, it only achieves three things. 1) It limits one's weapon options by adding tedium to the PvP process, 2) it creates an artificial gap between players who have time/desire to grind out gear and players who don't, and 3) it results in unfair inequities between player builds. What is truly frustrating about these things is that they are totally unnecessary. They could all be fixed by a simple adjustment: make equipment upgrades a purely stat based process.

First, let me explain the problems as I see them.  As things stand in Dark Souls and Dark Souls 2, fully upgraded equipment is a requirement for competitive PvP. If your weapons and armor are not leveled to the highest degree, you will be at a distinct disadvantage against the majority of opponents you come up against. This means that to have a chance, you will have to collect a large number of items (called titanite) to bring your equipment up to par, a tedious process that will mainly involve grinding enemies in certain areas of the game.

This is especially infuriating given the large number of weapons potentially available to the player. In Dark Souls 2, for example, in theory the player has many weapon types to chose from and experiment with. But in practice, the player will have to focus on only one or two of these in order to consolidate upgrade materials. The other weapons are left collecting dust as a result because without upgrading they remain vastly inferior.

Some will object here and say, "Don't expect the game to cater to casual players." The thing is, the equipment upgrade process isn't about skill, but the willingness to sink large amounts of time into a repetitive process of killing the same enemies over and over again.

This brings me to my second point. The upgrade system creates a gap between players who have fully upgraded equipment and those that don't, and what that gap essentially represents is not a difference in skill but a difference in time devoted to repetitive play. The division here is not between hardcore players and casual ones, but between players willing to engage in hours of mind-numbing gameplay and those who demand that gameplay always be engaging. The former is not something that should ever be encouraged in game design.

Finally, the current weapon upgrading system enables all sorts of loop holes through the checks and balances built into the game. Soul level, and now soul memory in Dark Souls 2, is used to match players evenly with each other. Weapon upgrading can evade this kind of check, especially when you get people "muling," i.e., gifting low level players powerfully upgraded items. It also brings imbalance to the game by allowing magic based characters to wield extremely powerful melee weapons that in theory should only be available to players who have invested in melee stats.

A switch to a purely stat based equipment system would fix all of these issues in one fell swoop. In this system, the strength of a weapon would be determined entirely by the stats it scales with. For example, a greatsword's damage output would depend entirely on a player's strength stat, or some combination of strength and dexterity. The particulars aren't important. What is key is that there is no upgrading of one's equipment independently of upgrading one's character stats.

Consider the impact this would have on the issues I raise above. The tedium of weapon upgrading would be eliminated. By simply leveling the appropriate stats, your equipment will grow with you, becoming stronger as you become stronger. The process is far more elegant, as leveling up is a natural part of the game, while titanite collecting is more an artificial graft/side-quest.

All the weapons you collected would now be viable so long as you invest in the stats that they scale with. Thus, the available range of weapon options would be dramatically widened for players, introducing more variety and more strategy to more players.

Players would no longer be divided into those willing to grind and those who don't. Instead, skill along with effective stat management would become the deciding factor of PvP encounters. It's the players' builds that should be pitted against each other, not their equipment upgrades.

Finally, muling would be rendered a moot point. It won't matter if some experienced player gives a low level player a powerful weapon, because the weapon won't be effective unless its user invests in the stats that it scales with, thus increasing their soul level and soul memory appropriately.

Indeed, this solution is so simple and so effective, it truly perplexes me that From has not already implemented it. The only reasons I can think of for them not doing it are 1) it hasn't occurred to them, or, and more likely, 2) they are worried that certain elements of the fan base would react negatively to it.

Why? From might be concerned that certain "hardcore" gamers thrive on the idea that by investing hundreds of hours into a game they will get a guaranteed competitive advantage over other players. I emphasize guaranteed because this advantage is not about accruing skill but about accruing goods. The difference is this: gaining skill cannot be guaranteed. One can simply remain bad at a game, no matter how long one plays it, if he/she doen't grasp certain fundamentals. Goods, however, will be gained no matter how smart or talented the player is. So what we're really talking about here is a desire for a structural advantage over other players, i.e., one built into the system itself rather than being dependent upon the talent of the player.

I'm very interested to hear others' thoughts on this. What do you think about this stat based system? Am I missing something? Let me know in the comments below.

Is Dark Souls Better than Dark Souls II? A Critique of Nostalgia

Now that we are a month or so past the release of the latest entry into the Souls series, people are beginning to make comparisons between it and the previous game. Unfortunately, many of those comparisons have veered towards the negative. People have been quick to point out Dark Souls II's faults and shortcomings vis-a-vis Dark Souls. And while I agree that there are grounds for criticism, I think in many cases people are letting feelings of nostalgia get in the way of objective assessment.

More often than not, when people compare Dark Souls II to its predecessor, they are viewing the latter through rose-tinted glasses. They aren't thinking about the entire experience of Dark Souls I, but isolated moments remembered fondly, such as the run through Sen's Fortress and Anor Londo. Who could forget  those swinging guillotines or those archers guarding the palace? The icing on the cake was, of course, Ornstein and Smough, perhaps the single greatest boss fight in video game history. People bring such examples up, and feel convinced that the first game was pure and simply better. And no wonder, in such unbalanced comparison (the highlights of Dark Souls versus the whole of Dark Souls II) there really is no question about which appears better. But the truth is, Sen's Fortress-Anor Londo was a mere sliver of Dark Souls, a piece of a long game with high points and low points.

The lead-up to AL is quite good, so long as you ignore the tedious nature of most of the enemies you come up against and the overall linear nature of the journey. You start in the Burg and things are pretty interesting. But then you go down and spend hours fighting rats, dogs, and frogs, baiting them to strike your shield so you can hit them back safely. If the enemy was bigger than this, you circled him and stabbed him in the back.This is pretty much the first 35 hours of Dark Souls. Block with your shield and strike, circle around your opponent and strike. Now get to a bonfire and level up and then continue down the corridor filled with more dogs, rats, and frogs.

The fact is, there is very little adventuring in Dark Souls, especially in the first half. You can briefly visit a few areas early, if you're feeling suicidal, but the reality is, these areas are designed to seriously deter you from going very far into them. Instead, you are pressured to take the "correct" path, and this is how you'll spend much of the game leading up to and including Anor Londo.

Contrast this with Dark Souls II. Once you get to Majula, there are two paths immediately obvious to you. One is clearly harder than the other, but not impossibly so. You could realistically take it on first and there are good reasons to do so, including opening another path. There's also a big, empty well in the town with platforms for you to drop down on. A simple to acquire ring will open this area to you very early as well. So near the beginning of things, you have four different paths to take, each with its own challenges and rewards. Moreover, you aren't stuck with any one of them once you start it, because you can always warp back to Majula and take another route.

This is real adventuring. Carving out one's own path through a game according to one's own inclinations and luck. There's a lot of variety in player experience in DSII compared to DSI consequently. I didn't realize there was another way to get to the Lost Bastille outside of the hawk that transports you after the Pursuer battle until way later in the game. Others found it but never fought or beat the Pursuer. Some went down into the well early. Others waited and ventured into Huntsman's Copse. All were legitimate pathways that made for unique journeys. Locked doors and sealed passageways also gave you fresh reasons to return to earlier areas--something Dark Souls really lacked.

There are challenges that come with this more open design, mainly dealing with enemy difficulty. It was easier for the creators of Dark Souls to consistently match difficulty of levels with the progression of the player, as they always had a fairly good idea of what level a player would be at a given segment of the game. DSII made this calculation much harder because it gave the player real choices. But despite this, they managed to have challenging scenarios and bosses along each path, no matter when you took it.

Speaking of bosses, Dark Souls II has some great ones. The whole line running from the Pursuer to the Ruin Sentinels to the Lost Sinner was fantastic, particularly if you do it early and don't summon. Each boss meaningfully ramped up the difficulty and provided new challenges to overcome. Other notable battles include the Charioteer, Iron King, and the Ancient Dragon. All of these were well-designed bosses that presented unique scenarios for the player to take on.

Dark Souls II has its share of less impressive bosses, but so does Dark Souls. Don't get me wrong, the Gargoyles were intense, and the Iron Golem fight had great atmosphere. But these are the exceptions, not the rule. Most of the bosses in DSI are just giant damage sponges that hit hard and move little. More often than not, the mechanics of the battle are wonky, making the confrontation feel more like a clusterfuck than the elegant dance that is achieved in many DSII encounters.

This elegance, by the way, has a lot to do with the refined combat system of DSII. The mechanics of battle are just flat out better in DSII than Dark Souls or Demon's Souls. Animations are smoother and more realistic. Sword swings are weightier and more visually discernible when incoming. The timing and mechanics of rolling are better implemented too. All around, the battle system is more precise.

Dark Souls II also manages to give us a much better second half than the first game.

And if Dark Souls II doesn't have anything to quite match Ornstein and Smough, it makes up for this with a superior second half. After O&S, you are sent back down to the deep, dark depths of the world. People forget how anti-climatic this is. Narratively, this just doesn't work. You can't repeat the rising structure after it has happened once and get the same results. Going back down is a drag. As a result, the second half of the game becomes a chore. It doesn't help that the bosses and levels in this half aren't very inspired. The main thing motivating you to continue on at this point is the sheer investment of time and energy already sunk into the game and the desire to see it through to the end.

It's a strange fact, but the quality of Dark Souls directly corresponds with the relative elevation of your character on the world map. The higher up you are, the better the game.

Dark Souls II does better. In its second half, there are once again choices to made about which path you will take. They lead to some exciting and devious places, and previews of the game let you know that there are some real treats yet to be seen which keeps you motivated. I was still wondering when I would find the Mirror Knight. I also knew that dragons would come into the picture sometime. Finally, I wanted to find the King. This kept the latter half of DSII a lot fresher and more engaging than the second half of Dark Souls.

Some people have taken issue with the lack of world interconnectedness in Dark Souls II. The incongruous transition from Earthen Peak and Iron Keep is the chief example brought up in this context. This is a good point, and I don't want to come off as simply dismissing it, but people really exaggerate the quality of interconnectedness in the first game. The way some people laud it, you'd think the game is very open and that you can get to all areas of the map from tons of different directions. But this isn't the case. You can see The Demon Ruins from the Tomb of the Giants, but it's not like you can get down there from that vantage. You're still bound to the preset path determined by the game's designers. So the interconnectedness exists visually, not materially. It gives the illusion of depth where there really isn't any, like a matte painting in a film.

This doesn't excuse Dark Souls II for lacking the interconnected of its predecessor, even if it is largely cosmetic, because it did clearly show the care and thought the first game's creators put into it. For me, however, the contrast highlights the need for a marriage of the two in a future game: a deeply interconnected world that also facilitates truly open exploration. 

I haven't mentioned the online components of the games. Suffice it to say, the online component of Dark Souls was a real step back from Demon's Souls. The switch to P2P meant far fewer messages and phantoms appeared while playing. The balance between human and hollowed was totally under-thought in the game as well. The effect of which was to severely diminish the quality of certain PvP elements, namely invasions. DSII, by returning to a server based system and by allowing invasions regardless of the host's status rectified both these serious flaws of the predecessor to some degree.

None of this is to say that DSII doesn't have its faults. It does, certainly. But most of them are faults that are common to the series as a whole rather than unique to DSII. Both games have anti-climatic final boss fights which is something FROM has yet to getting a handle on. The series still relies too often on bosses that essentially require circling and dodging. FROM need to press themselves to come up with more innovative encounters or reduce the number of bosses and focus on making a few great ones.The same goes for level designs. They need to stop re-using the Valley of Defilement/Blighttown template and come up with something new. Also, they need to give the multiple gargoyles boss a rest, because it's no longer exciting.

If Dark Souls II has an individual fault, I would say it is a lack of commitment to some of its best and novel ideas. The torch mechanic ended up being implemented half-heartedly and consequently has no real purpose in the game. The gradual hollowing of the character upon each death (with corresponding reductions to the health bar) was a bold move that FROM significantly undercut by including the Ring of Binding early in the game. Finally, the frightening prospect of always being vulnerable to invasions never fully materialized because of the scarcity of red orbs and lack of incentives for invasions.

On the whole, however, I would argue Dark Souls II represents a substantive step-forward for the Souls series. It loses ground in some areas, such as interconnectedness and having a truly breathtaking, stand-out boss fight, but gains in more important areas such as combat depth, exploration, and online play. So let's take stock of this and try not to let our nostalgia for what never was prevent us from appreciating what now is.