You Played Mario, So What?

Nostalgia's Strange Distillation of a Strange Video Game

I don't really care to engage anyone in the discussion of what makes someone a gamer or not. My take is that if you enjoy playing video games (plural), you are a gamer regardless of what those games might be. Still, I do feel a shred of disappointment when I meet someone whose passion is focused squarely on titles like Bejeweled, Angry Birds, or Words with Friends, which are all primarily mobile-based. There is nothing wrong with these games – they all provide a continual challenge, the first requiring both mental and physical dexterity to master –, but I usually gravitate towards those who enjoy playing plot-oriented games or those with really unique mechanics or graphics. I like the big games. I also don't play mobile games.

One thing I've noticed with regards to people in my age bracket, the roughly 30-35 year-old one, is that a common response to asking someone if he or she games is "I played Mario." This means a myriad of things, of course, as Mario has been featured in over 200 video game titles since his inception. What it does usually boil down to, though, is that the person used to play either Super Mario Bros. or Super Mario World as a child. (Make that age bracket 25-35 for the latter.) Unfortunately for me, the gamer seeker, it means that the only relationship they had with "core" games began and ended over 20 years ago. Again, this is not to pass judgment. Playing video games is a hobby, and everyone is willing to devote only so much time to it, which also can translate to no time at all.

With all sincerity, I do think that Super Mario World is one of the best games ever made. It features sheer entertainment value on its surface and a ridiculous ton of secrets to discover at its core. It's also a dramatic expansion of the world explored in the previous games in the series, which vary depending on whether you were raised in Japan on the United States. What I do find peculiar is Mario's lasting legacy in culture today. As judged by the folks at Guinness, he's the second most recognizable video game character to Pac-Man, something I can delve into later. However, Mario paraphernalia has become something of a badge of acceptance among people in general, not just gamers. It is wholly appropriate to wear something with Mario or another character from his universe, probably Yoshi, without any expectation being made of your gaming habits.

We all loved Super Mario Bros., right? Maybe. I never owned a Nintendo Entertainment System, actually. My neighbor did. I moved to my hometown when I was about five years old during my kindergarten year, 1987. In 1989, shortly before I turned seven years old, a pair of kids moved in next door, and they brought with them several Atari systems and the NES. I hadn't played a video game at home yet, and I was always excited to go over there and play. I honestly really enjoyed a lot of the Atari games, though I probably wouldn't touch any of them today. I can't even recall the names of what I played. Of course, along with the NES, my neighbors had Super Mario Bros.

I wasn't good at it or any game for that matter. I never got far in SMB mainly because I didn't have the time to master it. It wasn't inside my home, and as a kid, I had enough energy to want to go outside to play sometimes. I didn't discover warp zones without his or a magazine's aid. But the game did have some appeal, and I would enjoy picking it up now and again. Coupled with not being particularly good at it, I was The Exemplar for the sway – I would attempt to coax Mario across a large gap by moving my entire body in the direction of the jump, sometimes emitting a troubled noise with it. I may not have grown out of this. It's very compelling.

What this boils down to is that you played Mario when you were little. So did I. So what? Why does he get special treatment compared to countless other video game characters?

Saturation helps.

In the US, the Nintendo Entertainment System came with Super Mario Bros. by default. OK, that's notSuper Mario Bros., which was the majority of the offerings in 1985. It was nigh a guarantee that if you owned an NES, you owned SMB. Next, without going too far into it, the NES was the only video game system being sold. After the video game crash of 1983, stores were extremely hesitant to carry another video game system. The fact is that every manufacturer tried to make an Atari or an analog of an Atari, which created an overly segmented market, meaning little money for everybody involved, most notably the stores. When that got buried (like a certain game), "video game" became a four-letter word as far as stores were concerned.
exactly accurate. If you actually cared about value, you bought an NES that was bundled with

Due to the spectacular and extremely risky efforts of Nintendo, stores finally agreed to carry the NES, and it was a booming success. (If you'd like to read more about the whole ordeal, Greg Knight wrote a great essay about it on his blog, and he provides his sources for more reading.) Overall, Nintendo sold 30 million units in the US by 1991, which accounts for roughly 11% of the entire US population by that time. That is not only a significant chunk of the population, but it also translated to 30 million default Super Marios Bros. players. The only other games to achieve similar market saturation have also been bundled inclusions. I'm also neglecting to include worldwide sales on the game, which came out to about 62 million.

When you boil all of this down, it's fair to assume about 1 in 10 people (probably a little less given more precise analysis) living in the US between 1985 and 1991 have owned Super Mario Bros. This figure does increase when you account for people who just played the game at someone else's house but didn't own it themselves. The level to which Mario has left an effect on people around my age is significant. Even if you don't play any video games today, chances are that you played at least this one title on this one system. Let's not forget that the game was featured again in Super Mario All-Stars on the SNES, made available digitally via the Wii Virtual Console, and the countless number of people my age who were in college during the Napster (read: piracy) heyday. That was a time when a ridiculous number of old games were accessible through websites and emulators, their size being remarkably permissive even on dial-up connections at home.

Only Super Mario World after it achieved a notable amount of saturation, though not as much. Also, Mario's future games did not achieve the same amount of saturation although they were all successful. Oddly enough, despite retaining the weird elements of the original, these games also were more cohesive in their execution.

Super Mario Bros. didn't make sense, something which people eat up like candy.

I'm sorry to generalize, but we didn't really analyze games when we were little. We either enjoyed playing them or we didn't. Many of our favorite childhood games' stories were contained in their manuals, the conclusions sussed out by beating them. This isn't true of all games, but the largest extent to which SMB presents a story during its gameplay is by uttering, "But our princess is in another castle." You could argue that this counts as a twist, but it happens seven times during the course of play. This was positive, though, because it meant that there was much more game to play compared to the Atari offerings, which only boosted speed or enemy frequency to maintain challenge almost endlessly.

Mushroom

As much as we joke about the elements that make up Mario games, they managed to persist through multiple iterations. Everything that is ridiculous about the first game became iconic. Mario and his brother, Luigi, are plumbers who were magically sucked down a drain into the Mushroom Kingdom. For whatever reason, these plumbers were tasked with saving Princess Toadstool, a human princess in a world full of, um, mushroom people. The kidnapper is a giant bipedal turtle, Bowser, who spits fire. So far, none of this makes sense.

The plumbers, one at a time, must proceed through stages that inexplicably contain giant pipes everywhere, only some of which they can or have to enter to proceed. They can also breathe underwater ad infinitum, though that is eventually adjusted in Mario 64. The first enemy Mario encounters is a goomba, which is a mushroom-like thing that he can stomp on once to eliminate. (In 1985, this was not the most common way to murder animals or the like, I promise you.) The goomba is followed by a koopa troopa, a smaller bipedal turtle that can be stomped on so as to throw his shell around. To aid Mario in his quest, he must punch blocks with question marks on them, which can yield coins in a world without an economy, mushrooms that makes him grow larger for some reason, mushrooms that grant him extra lives because that's a thing down there, or fire flowers, which both alter his outfit and allow him to shoot fire. You encounter most of these things in under a minute after starting the game.

Also a mushroom

If the internet today is any indicator, it should then become no surprise that everything that made up Super Mario Bros. became memorable by virtue of the fact that it didn't make sense. Yes, it was a good game which featured challenging platforming gameplay and a handful of secrets and tricks. But these elements didn't contribute to today's popular culture; rather, they served to retain a section of that population as gamers and inspire future, more cohesive games. Each ridiculous aspect about the Mario universe stands out from one another and so becomes easily memorable and easily marketable in the future. Society loves disruption. Then, along came Yoshi, the Mario equivalent of a kitten.

Memories become distilled over time. Icons remain.

As stated above, Mario is not the most recognizable video game character ever. Pac-Man is. First, Pac-Man manages to increase the age bracket again from the larger end, and as I pointed out from my personal story, some people were still playing Atari in the late 80s. However, Pac-Man's fame came from the arcade; the Atari version of the game was so over-simplified that it was rejected compared to the original. His recognition stems from his form. He's a circle missing a piece, a yellow pie. Why he's not as marketable today as Mario probably lays with the fact that his universe lacks enough other pieces to be as interesting. Aside from Pac-Man, there are only the differently-colored ghosts and the white pellets. If Pokémon was only about Ash and Pikachu, it wouldn't be as popular. The hook is the pieces, the other pokémon, who are more memorable and universal than the games they star in. Again, this is a matter of popular culture versus smaller subsects, i.e., gaming or anime cultures.

Applying this idea to Super Mario Bros., it's not hard to discern why we hold Mario and the other pieces dear. Over time, the game has become pieces, all of which are weird and colorful, iconic and cute. To its credit, none of the enemies are menacing in their appearance save for Bowser, so they were adopted into popular culture as well. But you'll notice that while people will recognize a goomba or a koopa troopa whether or not they can name them, they are less familiar with other enemies from the series. They will recognize the sound of a coin being grabbed. And everyone knows the music. Why? Also as mentioned, you encounter these things in under a minute after starting the game.

This is ultimately the key behind each icon's success, including Mario. If you've played and finished Super Mario Bros., if you've played the game on and off at a friend's house, or if you started the game and decided it ultimately wasn't for you, you remember that first minute more than anything else about it. Everyone remembers the pieces despite having very different memories of the gameplay. Over time, the gameplay doesn't last so much, and this idea crosses over into other games that have become iconic over time, though less so, such as Sonic the Hedgehog and Street Fighter II. With enough saturation and enough disparate elements, those jarring pieces juxtaposed against one another become memorable and all that is left to remember if you didn't pursue playing video games as a hobby.

The same applies to movies (Indiana Jones, E.T., Back to the Future), books (If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, Amelia Bedelia, Choose Your Own Adventure), and even other forms of art (Mona Lisa, Persistence of Memory, Moonlight Sonata). We remember their essence and their elements more so than their experience or sometimes their names or the names of their elements. This is most true of video games because movies, books, paintings, and music don't require skill to complete experiencing them. Many people don't finish games, so it's the beginnings that matter most.

Mario rode the unexpected booming success of the Nintendo Entertainment System into our memories and our hearts despite us. He became equivalent with our childhood regardless of the amount of time we spent with him. He was something that was there when we were a child, and we either interacted by controlling or spectating. It doesn't take a psychology degree to know that we tend to hold pieces of our childhood dear even if our childhood as a whole was unpleasant. We hold onto the things we can remember because every day we forget more and more about what happened to us back then.

Unlike a good many things that existed back then, Mario is immortal. The people have chosen to keep him alive. I'm one of them, I suppose.

Images obtained from various places around the internet. If you own an image and would like me to remove it, please email me, and I will do so.

Deadlight Review

I don't remember any of this happening in 1986. I was four.

Good ol' Mullet's.

One of my most beloved games from years and years ago was Oddworld: Abe's Oddysee. It was a 2.5D platformer where every room was a puzzle. The goal was for the titular hero to save his friends from becoming food despite having zero combat prowess to save himself. Enter Tequila Works' Deadlight last year. The initial trailers captivated me because they exhibited similar 2D gameplay with room puzzles, though while the goal to avoid becoming food remained the same, mostly everything else was different. This game takes place in an alternate reality in 1986 Seattle after a zombie outbreak has begrudged the world. You play as Randall Wayne, a Canadian forest ranger looking for his wife and daughter, who have gone ahead of you seeking a safe haven.

It should come as no surprise that gameplay in Deadlight is vastly different from Oddworld: Abe's Oddysee and not just because of a lack of a chanting ability (insufficiently replaced with yelling). Here, the goal is to find your family and the safe haven alive all while avoiding the zombies surrounding you. Compared to more confrontational zombie games, such as Left 4 Dead or Dead Island, the key to survival is circumventing the undead foes as much as humanly possible. Randall has typical platforming abilities – running, jumping, crouching, rolling, climbing – and must use his wits to navigate around enemies and environmental obstacles. For example, one area had an immolated fuel truck preventing progress, and you are tasked with pushing a broken tank of water off the top of a building to put it out. Randall's abilities are more than serviceable, and it was fun to navigate the environments and figure out ways to fool the zombies, such as by calling for their attention and making them walk off cliffs, all the while looking for ways over walls and through windows to continue on.

Note: this isn't real.

The only real problems in the gameplay surfaced when you're faced with zombies in his path that you can't avoid. The game equips you with an axe to take down one or two at a time, and you eventually find a gun, but ammo is limited. When it came to some areas with long paths to the right, no platforms to jump on, and no objects in the environment to use for defense, I sometimes questioned what the designers wanted me to do to ensure success. Running with the axe does not always knock zombies down, and it is sadly impossible to run and shoot off your bullets. You must stop and aim first, which takes a life-altering second to ready. These situations did not happen often, though, and in most cases where using the gun is inevitable, Randall's default aim is head-level with the zombies. Still, checkpoints are frequent enough that the penalty for dying is being set back a little.

The story driving you from one end of Seattle to another is not remarkably compelling. You are trying to find your wife and daughter while staying alive, and the game occasionally provides playable flashbacks and hallucination segments to hint at the rather obvious revelation at the end. There were aspects of that revelation, which I found maddening, and what was an otherwise forgettable tale, wrought with Randall's gruff remarks about life and death along the way, took a stupid and puzzling turn for the cliche. The only other puzzle would be why the writers saw fit to throw in a segment in the middle that is literally just a series of rooms and traps that Randall must pass in order to continue on his journey. Aside from being forced in its execution (though still a fun area to play through by contrast), it didn't make sense. The traps were intended to keep out zombies, but by following the laws that the zombies of this game follow, they would not have otherwise been able to navigate to the platforms the traps are on. They can't jump. Come on.

I wonder if I can hire a zombie maid service.

Thankfully, the game is really breathtaking to look at, featuring a style that overlays Limbo's shadowed foreground aesthetic on top of beautifully detailed and colorful backgrounds. Using these shadows, the game's secret areas are hidden away until you discover the ledge or door that reveals them. These rooms typically lead to finding objects for Randall's scrapbook (for you completionists out there), but they can also lead to health and stamina powerups to boost his abilities. Among the scrapbook objects you find are a slew of discarded IDs, which apparently belong to a number of famous serial killers who operated in the northwest during the 80s. This may be another knock against the writers, but I didn't really understand the purpose of including these other than to be futilely tongue-in-cheek. Even my basic effort at performing some internet research revealed that a few of these folks were in jail or nowhere near Seattle in 1986, so I can only surmise that Tequila Works just wanted to be cool.

In terms of sound, effects and music were really top notch. Even basic details like floors cracking under Randall's feet and glass breaking were handled well. The soundtrack was surprisingly astounding though brief. I was actually really mesmerized by the Deadlight's theme, which plays while you navigate the main menus to look at the bonus content (artwork, trailers, and documentaries), which unlocks as you play through the game. Unfortunately, discussing the sound leads to the biggest problem I had with the game. All the cutscenes, including the introduction when you select to start a new game, are done through passable comic-book style animations, but apparently, the PC version of Deadlight has a terrible bug that prevents all sounds from being played during them. If I didn't have subtitles on (yeah, I do that), I would have missed the dialogue behind these events. Thankfully, the sound returns when you are actually playing, but this technical problem comes as a huge disappointment, especially considering how long it's been since the game was released. This kind of thing could have been addressed in the months before I got around to playing it.

If it's alright with you guys, I'll just hang out up here.

So Deadlight is something of a mixed bag whose main highlight is that it's fun to play. This didn't stop me from playing almost 40 hours of Far Cry 3, and it shouldn't prevent anyone from playing 5 hours of this game. Just don't take it too seriously. My sincere hope is that Tequila Works comes out with a spiritual (and more functional) sequel to this game that takes place in their supremely more fascinating home of Spain, especially since the zombie outbreak in this game supposedly originated in Europe. Just sayin'.

Jade Empire Review

Like an Open Palm to the Head

When citizens complain about a lack of street lighting, they don't usually mean all in one place.

Despite the number of games I've played which have come from Asia, I have only played two whose stories take place in Asian settings: Okami and now Jade Empire. The latter is surprising considering BioWare is located in Canada. Also, considering the controversy BioWare ignited in 2012, it may come as a surprise to many gamers that they created an RPG once that was not Mass Effect or a Star Wars derivative. I once started Jade Empire a few years ago but ended up abandoning it for reasons I cannot recall, but it might have had something to do with the difficulty. Thus, it ended up in my backlog again, not to arouse my interest until almost eight years after its creation. Regardless, I have been digressing for an entire paragraph now.

Jade Empire's story takes place in a fictional ancient Chinese setting whose name you can guess by now. You are given the opportunity to choose from a variety of male or female player characters, but they are not customizable in appearance whatsoever, just character stats. No matter whom you choose, the story is the same, and only a handful of interactions with NPCs and your romance options are affected by the gender. The player character begins the tale at a martial arts school up in the mountains in the village, Two Rivers. Here, you are Master Li's very special student with an important destiny that is continually alluded to during the introductory act. Eventually, the village and the school are attacked, your fellow students save for one, the spirit medium Dawn Star, are slaughtered, and your master has been kidnapped, presumably by the Empire's minions. So begins your empire-trotting tale to learn your destiny and save your master. If I sound sarcastic about having a wunderkind player characters, it may be because I think it's cooler to find out you're special than to have everyone at the beginning of the game remind you ad nauseam.

If you thought cell phones were huge way back when, get a lot of this coffee maker.

Overall, the story is a mixed bag. The setting and the folklore behind it are the most impressive qualities with just enough magic to make it intriguing without delving too far into high fantasy. The result is a believable land with strong traces of ancient mysticism and gods. Along your journey, you will also meet plenty of unique characters, which add to the rich setting with personal tales of strife and triumph, some of whose outcomes to affect through side quests. A number of pre-designated characters also join you on your quest and assist you in battle. The main narrative, which drives the player along, is just OK, though. Nothing is thrown at you that you've never seen coming, though the laudable twist is handled gracefully. Where the story fell short is in the rather brief cluster of chapters that make up the conclusion to the game after the twist in the fourth act. It feels like the developers felt a need to pad the time until the ending, so they just threw in some repeated areas with almost none of the exploration or the side quests offered by the first three quarters of the game. To top it off, your time is extended needlessly with battles of escalating difficulty instead. The pay off for your troubles is an extremely brief cutscene with the final boss followed by text explaining what became of your companions. I now question whether or not BioWare ever really knew how to wrap up a storyline.

That said, Jade Empire is still enjoyable to play; I clocked in about thirty hours of gameplay between the main quest and all the side activities. Before the crux of the narrative even comes to pass, Two Rivers offers a number of optional missions to complete, which net you bonus experience and money to really start prepping yourself for the challenge ahead. These are but a taste of the deeper, more relatable side quests that you encounter during your travels around the Jade Empire. Unsurprisingly, the game features a binary choice system where good is called The Way of the Open Palm, and evil is called The Way of the Closed Fist. Although one character argues that neither path is inherently imbued with good or evil, the system's implementation is pretty rudimentary. Open Palm is colored blue, and Closed Fist is colored red. I need not explain further. However, the methods behind gaining favor with either path are varied. Depending on your character's stats, you are able to influence NPCs into doing what you ask of them using charm, intuition, or intimidation. The leanings are situation dependent, but even if you're not being intimidating, it can be obvious when you're trying to convince someone to do something that is ultimately not right, so don't be surprised when you get that red glow about you. Killing folks with abandon isn't the only evil action to take.

We're all done freaking out about this kind of natural phenomenon, right?

The experience you earn from completing quests and doing battle allow you to upgrade your three main stats: body, spirit, and mind. Increasing these influence the bars for your health, chi (magic), and focus (weapon dexterity), but the three unique combinations of each affect your level of charm, intuition, and intimidation for conversation. Battle is focused on using an impressive array of fighting styles – martial styles involve physical attacks with your limbs, weapon styles need no explanation, support styles inflict status effects but no damage, magic styles allow for a bit of ranged fighting and status effects, and transformation styles allow you to turn into a powerful but chi-draining spirit. Not every style works on every type of opponent, either, so it's necessary to stay on your toes when fighting varied groups. Each level you earn also nets you points to apply to improving each of these styles to become truly powerful. The variety of styles you earn or buy during the game outnumber the amount you can bring into battle (10 on PC, one for each hotkey), so you should have no trouble customizing battles to fit your own perception of your ultimate martial arts fighter. I really enjoyed this aspect of combat, and I only wished there was an option later on to reallocate skill points to newer skills you wish to replace older ones with. This is a minor complaint, though.

Battles actually take place in the same environments you traverse, so it's highly possible that saying the wrong word to someone in conversation could result in a fight right where you stand. The only time this becomes a problem is when the battlefield borders feel arbitrarily drawn, and learning that you can't evade because of an invisible wall can lead to doom. Problems aside, what I did like about this feature was that some battles were actually total surprises. Compared to Mass Effect where a giant room or corridor with a lot of waist-high walls meant inevitable cover-based combat was afoot, environments in Jade Empire are varied enough that you honestly can't tell when battle is coming (unless it's a respawn point) and may end up surprised. Overall, combat is satisfying and offers a lot of variety and engaging difficulty. Sometimes, the difficulty spikes when fighting larger groups of spirits in one of the earlier acts of the game (I cursed a lot), but I did find that exerting patience and defensive maneuvers (things I suck at) do lead to triumph.

Even the chickens are holy.

Beyond combat, Jade Empire offers open environments to explore in its second and third acts, which comprise the bulk of the seven act game, believe it or not. The Imperial City in particular, aside from being the largest explorable area in the game, features a slew of side quests and activities to undertake. I was really baffled by how much time I spent there ignoring the main quest, though the writers did throw in squeeze points where you have to proceed with the story for a mission or so to continue with ongoing side quests. One of the city's side quests requires the player to go round after round in a fighting arena. But unlike similar implementations in games like Borderlands, as you progress through the rounds, more side quests and stories spawn from the characters you fight and those who control the arena. It is practically a stand-alone game in itself!

Despite being almost eight years old, Jade Empire is a treat to look at even if it is readily apparent that technology has come so far since its release. There are a lot of organic and large environments with winding paths, and many areas feature details which provide unique character and charm. Despite its impressive size, the Imperial City could have used more variety and colors in the wall and ground textures to be as captivating as the characters seem to think it is. (It's not the Citadel.) Also, the HUD is a rather blocky and large and could afford to be implemented more gracefully. The soundtrack, composed by the amazing Jack Wall (total fanboy), is wonderful. It manages to evoke the Asian setting while layering more modern orchestral compositions over traditional instruments. Most of the voice acting, by contrast, felt a little stiff and forced especially when coupled with the rather silly conversation animations of the character models. Now is a good time to mention that the player character never speaks aloud, only through text options, something obvious that BioWare fixed for its next game.

A ship! This can only have a positive outcome!

Jade Empire was a fun game, and I am glad I picked it up again (ah, the power of a Steam sale) and tried my hand at it a second time. I really enjoyed the battle system and how powerful I felt by the end, and the side quests added a lot of needed depth to the overall story that the main narrative really lacked. Even though it's showing its age, it's definitely a solid RPG to try out if you've got thirty hours to kill.

All screenshots taken by me through Steam. The camera turns with the character, so no face for you!

Revisiting Zork Nemesis

A Million More Words About This Game Than You Thought Possible

When writing about my relationship with my father, I had mentioned that one of our potential chances to bond over video games involved Zork Nemesis: The Forbidden Lands. Over the holidays, GOG.com had a pretty awesome sale on their entire catalog, so I decided to pick it up. What's interesting about the game is its weird status as the black sheep of the 3D Zork games. From what I could gather while browsing the abundant internet, the main complaint lodged by fans of the source material was that it lacked the humor of the other games and was too dark. I essentially played this game in a bubble. I was vaguely aware of the Zork text adventures, which I could never wrap my brain around, and then my dad came home one day with Zork Nemesis. It is the only Zork game I've played intently and finished thus far in my life, and I loved it, so my internet findings came as a bit of a shock.

I'm currently in a bit of a gaming limbo right now, having nothing major that I have to or need to play. The last big game I finished was Far Cry 3, and I felt like I needed to play some shorter games that didn't involve sprawling sandboxes. After Syndicate, a brief foray into SimCity 4, and finishing the Captain Scarlett and Her Pirate's Booty DLC for Borderlands 2, I developed a sudden desire to play Zork Nemesis again.

OMG, I really want to play Zork Nemesis: The Forbidden Lands today.
— Gil Almogi (@gilmeansjoy) January 19, 2013

So I did, and I just finished it last night. I do have to admit that it brought back all my nostalgic feelings about the game, and I enjoyed every minute still. However, this time around was different in that I noticed cracks in the story I never really pondered before. To be honest, I'm not entirely not sure why I've never picked up on them before, but I think this was the first time that I really tried to piece together all the bits of the narrative. I also set some rules for myself. One thing about playing puzzle adventure games like this or Myst is that you basically never forget how to solve the puzzles and/or you still have your printer sheets covered in notes. I didn't want to breeze through the game (you can solve Myst in under 5 minutes, by the way), so I set these rules for myself:

1. I will explore every inch of each area and read all material I come across.
2. I will not go to solve a puzzle unless I have actually discovered the solution.
3. Even if I do find a solution, I will continue exploring until there's really little else to do but solve the puzzle.
4. The previous rule does not preclude me from solving stand-alone puzzles that don't require external clues.

I had a few reasons for these rules. First, I cannot properly analyze the game if I breeze through it darting from solution to solution until I'm done. The developers created a world I was intended to absorb for better or worse, so I was going to absorb it. Additionally, I wanted to use the puzzles as the barriers they're supposed to be. I can't change the fact that I know where each puzzle's solution is located, so the least I can do is just visit every area and explore each branching path until I actually arrive at the solution's location. I really wanted to test how far I can get in each place before the game basically tells me I can't proceed any further.

Warning: Dead baby jokes.

Now that I'm done, let's explore my great Zork Nemesis findings.
The following sections will contain spoilers. If you do plan on playing the game, finish it first.

Social Gaming: How Papo & Yo Redefined the Concept for Me

Expanding the definition of coop

I have established before that I don't really play games with people. Whether that means actually playing a cooperative mode with a friend or fighting against anonymous players online, generally my gameplay experience only involves myself. There are some exceptions for games that make it seem worthwhile to foray into multiplayer, but I only buy a game for its single-player offerings. Everything else is just icing or filler. Thus, it came as a huge surprise to me that my fondest memory of playing a game this year with another human being actually involved a completely single-player game, Papo & Yo.

I had read enough about Papo & Yo to be enthralled with the idea before the first trailer appeared. At that point, I was pre-enamored with it. Although I've only thus written about what a departure the soundtrack is, the game as a whole is remarkably different in tone and experience from the majority of games out there. It is certainly rare to play what amounts to a single writer's autobiography, and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. However, it is possible that my review of the game was disingenuous – I didn't tell you readers what really happened.

Twitter is kind of a new beast to me. My job was sending me on a trip to Berkeley, CA in February of 2010, and I decided to try the bandwagon out, tweeting about my trip. I did not consider the ample opportunities it possessed, but one thing that began to stick out was how accessible people and companies became. Celebrities and journalists tweet daily and sometimes actually respond to people who follow them. Companies, on the other hand, hire community managers to handle their official accounts and respond to tweets either praising them for excellent service or deriding them for subpar pizza. What they offer is essentially a free but invaluable product by turning companies into humans replete with feelings and fluids. A bad corporation is a bad corporation, but community managers at least entertain the idea that your complaint reaches actual people who care that you had a poor experience. You and I know your complaint probably won't reach the top dogs of the company unless he or she has a Twitter account.

Alright, this was about Papo & Yo. I decided that I would take this review really seriously. This would be the first new game I'd be reviewing within a reasonable window of its release, and I sat with a notebook by my side to make sure I wrote down everything, good or bad, worth writing about. Despite the damage it can do to the experience, I also did a bit of live tweeting, i.e., posting to Twitter while I played the game. This caught the attention of Minority Media's community manager, Deborah Chantson, who heartily replied to me to wish me enjoyment. (Sadly, I did not log any of our tweets, and I cannot yet access my archive, so there'll be paraphrasing from here on.) Because I had only just started the game, there were a number of events in the first few chapters that made me wonder if they were better explained later on, something that is rather important to me. So I responded to Deb, as she calls herself, stating, "I have so many questions."

Thus, the game began to change for me. Deb, out of a sincere desire to assist all the fans, insisted on Direct Messaging me to answer my questions, thinking I was stuck on a puzzle or something. At the time, I thought it was hilarious, but I didn't take into account that the developer had posted a day-one patch to the game to fix issues, which hampered the game's scores with Polygon and IGN. (I don't suggest bringing those up to her.) She was a woman on a mission, and given the timing, I'm inclined to believe she'd pop out of my PS3 with a screwdriver if it would help. Of course, I didn't have any problems navigating the puzzles, which I found to be fairly straight-forward and easy. But Deb was nice, and sincerely wanted to talk about the game. I've never really done that before, that is, talk deeply about a game I was playing while I was playing it for the first time.*

The conversation didn't take long to devolve into other topics, but Deb always maintained a focus on making sure I was having fun. She even tried to excuse herself to let me play, but that didn't work out. I was truly enthralled to be communicating with someone who was passionate about the game I was playing and who also worked for the developer. That is something that doesn't happen often to anyone that isn't a hired tester. And this unique experience has stayed with me. There is playing the same game with someone, plowing through levels with a digital companion at your side. There is playing against someone, killing each other over and over again, or simply getting more points at sports. But this was like playing with a little Papo & Yo guardian angel, someone who has no direct impact on the game but makes the experience special nonetheless.

I understand that I can't really encourage anyone to ask their favorite developers' community managers to babysit them while they play.** However, I will encourage you to feel at liberty try to communicate with those developers somehow, whether it is a reference on Twitter or just an email discussing your experience. There are real people who read these things and pass it on to the ones you want to hear it most. Gaming isn't the same landscape it was 20 years ago. We no longer play in our individual bubbles anymore, and social networking is pervading the lifestyle in remarkable ways. It is easier to access those who care that you are playing something they worked very hard on, and I'm willing to bet they appreciate your effort as much as you do theirs.

Are you a player who had a unique gaming experience with a community manager? Are you a community manager that had a unique gaming experience with a player? I would love to hear about it!

* I'd like to note that Deb and I didn't discuss any specific features of the game nor its bugs, which I do talk about in my review. We mostly discussed the concept and the company, none of which was relevant to a review or my opinion of the game. She found out my final thoughts on the game at the same time as everyone else on the internet.

** I pity the community manager who would chat through someone's experience playing a sandbox game. "I just sold my 20th box of crumpled cigarettes! (Far Cry 3)" "Oh, that's nice."

Syndicate Review

It's, like, the future of technology and stuff.

This. Is. Bloom lighting.

Coming off a handful of sandbox games, I decided I wanted to play something more straightforward to "cleanse" my system. Syndicate, developed by Starbreeze Studios, seemed like a reasonable choice since it was estimated at less than 10 hours to beat. It is definitely an interesting and fun game with some notable shortcomings, most notably its linearity. Ironic, I know.

The game takes place in the future (still this century) when global corporations have essentially taken over governments. What is left of bureaucratic society has become laden with manipulation that it's basically laughable. These syndicates maintain their control by offering the citizens in their purview computerized brain implants that keep them constantly connected to the internet and other communication methods. Because of this stranglehold, anyone who rejects having an implant is relegated to the "downzone," an area literally below the skycrapers where anarchy reigns, and people are cut off. Of course, no corporate-focused narrative is complete without corporate espionage, so the player controls, Kilo, an advanced agent working for Eurocorp, one of the biggest syndicates in the world. From there, the story takes you on a wild ride…to other syndicates.

Agents, of course, feature advanced brain implants, but theirs are designed to exert a level of control over other people and machines via a skill, called "breaching." The implant becomes an excuse for the HUD you see throughout the game but an effective one at that. While playing, you will see your internal computer display visual cues about the objects surrounding you, which is at its most useful when it indicates what you can breach. The fact that the designers felt the need to make the HUD extra futuristic by displaying little icons over literally every minor object is a bit distracting, though. When you start the game, and you're trying to filter what's important information from the chaff, it's a waste of time to pursue a coffee cup because there was a little icon over it.

Birth.

The flow of the narrative in Syndicate shoves Kilo from firefight to firefight with relatively brief pauses in between to navigate corridors and platforms. As you progress, you gain three special breaching abilities to aid you along with the pretty decent arsenal you come across. Suicide turns any enemy into a human-sized bomb, who can take out other enemies. Persuade switches the allegiance of an enemy to your side, and when either all the enemies are gone or time runs out, he (yes, always a male) will shoot himself in the face. Finally, Backfire attacks the weapons themselves, making them explode a little and your enemies more vulnerable for a brief time. Your implant also features an overlay mode, which highlights the locations of sighted enemies even behind cover, slows down time for more effective killing, and simultaneously increases your damage output while lowering your own damage. Using the overlay mode depletes a small bar, which takes about 10 seconds to refresh, so it is meant to be used strategically to exploit weaknesses in the enemy ranks.

Battles also feature the occasional environmental object to breach, resulting in exploding gas tanks or re-targeted turrets, but these are so few and so obvious that there is almost no choice involved in using them – you're going to do so because the designers put them there to be used. The usual weapons are all there, from pistols to assault rifles to shotguns. However, it isn't long before the player can find more unique and futuristic guns, such as a rocket launcher that can paint three targets at a time or a two-handed heat laser rifle. These options actually do pop up often enough that finding one can be a delight as you mow down enemies for the next few rounds with relative ease. All of these features lead to some rather satisfying gunplay, and the breaching mechanics offer up the sadistically funny moments while you're dodging bullets.

I swear he was like that when I found him.

Despite how enjoyable Syndicate's battles can be, the whole game becomes rather routine. The three major breaching abilities are all it offers, and the only toss up is a handful of chapters where Suicide and Persuade are disabled (I won't ruin why). As you find and/or kill characters with special chips in their skulls, you are given the opportunity to upgrade Kilo, but the abilities offered are all passive buffs – useful, but none of them will make you feel really powerful or like anything significant has changed. The game is also basically one giant corridor, both literal and illusory, with open areas for shooting and being shot at. Some areas in the last few chapters become long and tedious gauntlets with little indication of when the last guy you murdered will indeed allow you to move on. These come off as lazy wrap-ups to the endgame. There are also no real setpiece moments to speak of, which is disappointing for an action game.

The only options off the beaten path are either large objects, behind which you can find business cards or scan subliminal advertising, the game's version of collectibles, or closet-sized rooms where you can do the same. Doors you can open are either slightly open already or feature blue lights, letting you know they'll open for you when you walk in front. There are also situations where Kilo will be able to charge through a broken wall or debris or break a grate on the floor to go below, but all of these are specific, and the game will tell you when you can do these things. The occasional environment puzzle is thrown in to challenge your ability to notice breaching cues, but none of these are challenging and only hamper the flow of the game. Considering the tactical strategy game pedigree this game came from, 1993's Syndicate, this game is stripped bare and vaguely resembles its namesake, which actually featured varied missions and goals with its gunplay, an R&D feature similar to last year's XCOM: Enemy Unknown, and territorial management.

At least the graphics are impressive. I found myself marveling at how flashy and beautiful some of the areas were. The designers really pushed the bloom lighting in Syndicate, which is a feature I often appreciate. My only critique would be that there are a few areas early on in the game where the bloom is literally blinding, something you'd imagine couldn't happen to a a guy with eyes controlled by a computer. Actual environment textures are typical of what game designers would have us believe are futuristic – simple, clean, practically uninhabited even in the downzone areas Kilo visits later on. To their credit, they don't get particularly muddy up close. I witnessed no notable graphical glitches, which should be expected of such a short, linear game.

Character models look pretty decent. Actually, [swoon].

Sound effects and music in the game are serviceable with the highlights being the infrequent use of the official remixes of the main theme. Otherwise, there was nothing too remarkable to be heard. In terms of technical execution, the game started freezing for brief moments, stuttering the last sound effect heard, but it would always come out of it and let me continue playing uninhibited. Quitting and restarting did not allay this annoying break, so I trudged through it because it did not affect progress at all, which is already effectively saved through very frequent checkpoints, and it did not happen too frequently.

I haven't touched on the story in a while, but it's not hard to guess that it's as linear as the rest of the game. This would not have bothered me, but the story ironically tries to focus on individuality and choice despite featuring only one futile binary choice during its 7-8 hour length. I'll avoid rhetoric, but I don't think you can have a narrative effectively examine the negatives of brainwashing and conforming when you lead the player from the beginning to the end with a single dangling carrot. To be frank, I felt like I was playing Deus Ex: Human Revolution sans the sidequests, tactical options (espionage is actually supposed to be silent), and other nuances that made it extremely successful as a player experience. I wanted to play a linear game, and I ended up playing one that had every reason not to be. So it goes.

All images taken by me through Steam running Origin running the game. This makes sense.

To the Moon Review

This game made me cry.

There's a lighthouse involved...somehow.

To the Moon, the first commercial release by Freebird Games, is unique in the fact that it delivers its story through a game premise but ultimately lacks a lot of gameplay to speak of. In its defense, that's not a bad thing and makes what would otherwise be a 4-5 hour movie more interactive and compelling. The story takes place in what seems to be the not-too-distant future. The player controls two doctors, Dr. Neil Watts and Dr. Eva Rosalene, who have machinery capable of replacing someone's memories. Due to the conflict this can cause the patient in the real world, their business is focused on providing this service to people on their death beds. The result allows a person to die believing he or she has fulfilled his or her lifelong wish. The doctors make this task, which requires following memory's path back to childhood and offering strong suggestions to make the dream come true, seem rather rote in its execution, but their newest patient, Johnny, offers them an emotional challenge.

As the title would suggest, Johnny's dying wish is to go to the moon. He lays on his deathbed surrounded by his doctor, his caretaker, and her two children in a house on a cliff by a lighthouse. Conversations are completely composed of text, and there are no vocals except for a single song which plays in the background later on (similar to Final Fantasy VIII and Final Fantasy IX). After some light comedic elements, including a fake RPG battle scenario, the doctors get to work hooking their patient and themselves to the machine that makes dreams come true. What they find out before diving in, though, is that neither Johnny nor the people surrounding him know why he wanted to go to the moon in the first place, and this proves to be the crux of the narrative. Clearly, if you don't know why you want to do something as a mature adult, it'll be hard to convince yourself as a child to go for it.

Given its brevity, I won't delve much further into the story itself because much of the mystery starts shortly after the machine is powered on. The gameplay is relatively simple for the majority of it, though. For every memory Eva and Neil enter, they must find a gateway object which lets them travel further back in time towards childhood, but in order to do that, they must find five memories to break its barrier. This involves either picking up certain objects, entering particular places, or experiencing special events. After opening the gateway object, readying it for use involves solving a small puzzle. Based on conversations between the doctors, it is usually rather simple to find gateways back to childhood very easily, but Johnny presents a challenge, and each jump is rather short, meaning the player will be repeating this process a significant number of times before reaching the conclusion. There are eventually small variations thrown in for flavor, but none of them are remarkable aside from a clunky but funny reference to Plants vs. Zombies (the game's credits feature composer and sound designer, Laura Shigihara).

You can't tell how ugly the children are because this is 16-bit. Trust me.

Regardless, in its 16-bit presentation and simplicity, the story of To the Moon is the star of the show, and it managed to deliver probably the most emotional and unique moment I've ever experienced in a game. As the subheader would suggest, I cried. I really did. And I really had doubts that I would. For one, I have never been too moved by text conversations, and sometimes this story can be silly. Although it never overstays its welcome, the ways the different scenes seem to connect come off initially as obvious and pedestrian though cute. Eventually, there is a neat twist, which puts some of the stranger events into perspective. However, it all builds up to a moment about four hours in that left me in tears. That scene (actually, that line) coupled with the following events wrapped this up as one of the most wonderful stories I've had the privilege of experiencing.

Even though there is not much game to speak of regarding To the Moon, I think everyone who believes in making emotional connections in video games must play this. At the very least, it's not too challenging to get through, and the whole experience is short enough to cover in a few play sessions. Do yourself a favor, and go for it.

This game is currently on sale on Steam and GOG for $4.99.

Assassin's Creed III Review

Running, Jumping, Climbing Trees, Killing Blokes While You're Up There

This should reveal enough about the new setting for you.

The Assassin's Creed franchise has come a long, long way since the first game came out in 2007. Still, it would seem rather strange to new players that with four previous console releases and three portable that the latest entry would carry the "III" on the end. Now that Ezio Auditore's adventure is finally over, Ubisoft saw fit to end the side stories and usher in a new assassin, Connor Kenway, to carry the adventure along to its first numbered entry in years. However, compared to the innovation Assassin's Creed II ushered in compared to its predecessor, this entry leaves me questioning if more couldn't have been done.

The story takes place in the colonial American countryside, particularly the area between Boston and New York, before and during the American Revolutionary War. As a citizen of the United States, I will admit I could not help but be charmed by participating in so many historical moments even though I am not much of a history buff myself. It is just nice to add the game's secret layer on top of things, I suppose. After a twist near the beginning of the game, Desmond, the overarching protagonist of the series, gets to control Connor in the past as he races in the present to find a way to prevent the end of civilization as he knows it on December 21st, 2012. Connor is motivated by the desire to protect his native American tribe from the dangers that threaten them, and finding out a Templar had a hand in a tragedy he experienced is enough to embroil him in the assassin cause.

Despite the set up of the previous few games, the assassins' brotherhood is all but dissolved, and Connor makes a lot of effort to rally the local colonists to join him. I do not want to ruin any major plot points, but by the end of the game, there isn't the same sense of satisfaction as there was present at the end of Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood when Ezio gained the support of the beleaguered Roman citizens. This might be due, in part, to the fact the Connor's cause piggybacks on the colonists' cause and not vice-versa. Though early interviews suggested he would remain neutral, enlisting the help and ire of both sides, the story proves this wholly untrue by siding entirely with the colonists. While it doesn't make his cause more worthy of my time, the efforts of the writers to blur the lines between right and wrong ultimately shine as each Templar's death reveals more dogma highlighting the flaws in the assassins' and Connor's fights. For the first time, the Templars have something worthwhile to say, and the confusion they cause finally establish them as the perfect antagonists whereas they were just blindly evil in earlier entries.

Get in line. I have all day.

There are only subtle hints to this dilemma in the story that takes place during the present day. After the end of the previous game, Desmond and his rag tag group of assassin pals are on the last leg of their journey to stop end of the world. Demond's father also joins the team if only to provide the unbelievable trope story of the father who isolated his child for a higher cause but proves his love after being forced to work together. You will ultimately not care how these two feel for each other, and the other two characters, short their other friend since Brotherhood, still make no effort to be interesting despite the player's opportunity to talk to each while outside the animus. If anything, Shaun Edmonds, the English tech whiz who writes the database entries, manages to make himself utterly deplorable through constant condescension and double entendres written into each paragraph. Actually, scratch that, it ceases to be a double entendre once you write, "penis." Then, it's just crass and unfunny.

Off to gameplay, something new thrown into the fray is the ability to climb the many mountains and trees in each environment. After doing so for only a handful of minutes, you will quickly become convinced that there's no going back to simply climbing building facades. Navigation has also been streamlined to become much simpler, acknowledging both the actions you'll do often and the actions you'll intend to do in certain contexts. Running is made possible by holding the "high profile" button alone and a direction on the left thumbstick, no more holding the "feet" button. Connor also automatically will push people aside, showing the developers finally learned there is no time you will try to run into a crowd and purposely wish to trip over the people.

Combat has also been made a touch more interesting by adding more actions to perform to counter foes. Moved to a different button, the counter sequence allows players to kill, disarm, or throw enemies around, though not all enemies are susceptible to all actions...only most. New weapons have been added to the fray, including guns that require reloading delays, a bow and arrow, and a rope dart that allows Connor to hang enemies in various ways. Being a native American, Connor also carries a tomahawk at the outset, which peculiarly bears the assassin insignia, but that's part of a larger narrative puzzle. Like previous games, there are different classes of weapons to carry around, and the player has the ability to steal bayonets off of soldiers, which act both as firearms and the series' form of spears. It is easier to be more aggressive in battle, especially since your actions are no longer dependent on holding the "high profile" button, but you will still find yourself dependent on waiting as you are attacked one at a time by each soldier if only to watch the fantastic counter animations. It is both a shame and a constant source of entertainment.

What a nice hat, right?

My favorite new addition to the gameplay was a complete shock, actually. Connor is given the opportunity to command a frigate on the open seas replete with crew and weaponry. Not only does traveling on the water reveal some of the most beautiful and versatile environments in the game, but battles are awesome departures from what is mostly the same game you've been playing since 2009. Unlike the atrocity that the tower defense game of Assassin's Creed: Revelations was, you will not purposely do everything in your power to avoid completing these extra tasks. Like your character, the ship you command is fully upgradeable  and relatively easy to control. Of course, the rules are different out on the water than when fighting one-on-one, but the designers managed to take artistic liberties to keep battles fun and in the player's favor without being a cakewalk. It also comes with a reasonable backstory, something I've complained about before.

Assassin's Creed III carries over the optional objectives of the previous games' missions, but to add more depth, most missions, including some side missions, have multiple objectives to try to complete. I appreciated the majority of these because some of them compel you to play differently from how you intended, and they test out all aspects of the new skills the game has taught you. Moreover, not all optional objectives are revealed at the beginning of each mission. Instead, they are tied to checkpoints, so if you need to backtrack a little, you won't lose what you have already completed in the first half or third of a mission. Unfortunately, this new system is not without drawbacks for completionists (let's not kid ourselves to think that this has any bearing on anyone else). There will be a number of annoying times when a new objective is revealed during an action sequence with little opportunity to look in the corner of the screen to read them, resulting in missed opportunities and more backtracking. Also, a few missions carry optional objectives that are either insane or made practically impossible to achieve due to flawed design. While most of these task the player with thinking outside the box, all the ridiculous ones task the player with doing things no one, assassin or commoner, would do to achieve a goal, certainly not with such specificity. I did finish the last mission with 100% of these completed but a stupid amount of my time devoted to the effort.

In keeping tradition since Ezio threw his first punch, the game is loaded with additional activities to pursue. Instead of upgrading a village or city, Connor is tasked with rebuilding a section of the frontier, dubbed the Homestead. Instead of dumping money into every building type to gain a regular allowance, there are now characters to find, save, and invite to live and thrive on the once-forgotten section of land. Each mission not only has a small story attached to it, but eventually the stories intertwine as the citizens of the Homestead believably grow to care for and support each other. And it all comes to a head in a remarkably satisfying way for a side quest that is not downloadable DLC. Completing the Homestead missions results in material gatherers and artisans becoming available to Connor for a number of purposes, and fulfilling multiple tasks for the same villager results in him or her becoming more useful. Along with assassination and courier missions littered about the game's main areas, there are also delivery requests for items only the villagers can craft.

There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.

Furthermore, as you come across shops, you can utilize your Homestead to trade crafted items for additional funds. The interface for crafting and trading, unlike the rest of Assassin's Creed III's UI, is disappointingly clunky. The are many items to sift through, and every time you are done with whatever you have selected, either an item you crafted or an item assigned to a trading slot, going to select the next item requires going through all the categories and linearly arranged lists again. This becomes tedious almost immediately, but it is necessary to persist in order to make enough money to afford all the extra baubles and upgrades the game has to offer. I could go on forever, but there are also land convoys to attack (templar) and defend (your own), animals to hunt and skin (more convincing than Far Cry 3 by miles), treasure chests to loot (with a silly minigame), forts to capture for the colonies (available before you even know you're on their side), citizen missions tied to assassin recruiting, underground networks to explore (a weirdly compelling time sink), and tall buildings and trees to climb, of course. In addition to the activities the frontier has in store for you, Desmond's story features a handful of present-day missions to retrieve power cells to power the ancient machinations he comes across. Not only are they reasonably fun missions, but they test the player's skill by featuring confrontations without the useful icons and indicators that assist with countering.

All the features and activities come wrapped up in what is a pretty package in its presentation but mangled by its execution. Real weather is the shiny new coat on Assassin's Creed's familiar appearance, and it adds an enjoyable layer to exploration. On top of day and night cycles, the passage of time is represented through changing seasons with the most notable shifts happening between winter and any of the others. Rain makes surfaces credibly slick, and trudging through the snow not only inhibits on-foot navigation, but it does so convincingly despite the fact that our hero never freezes even if he takes a dip between land masses. For me, the time period's saving grace is the abandonment of terra cotta roofs covering buildings composed of boulders. Instead, brick and wood are welcomed materials to hear under Connor's feet as he tramples houses in pursuit of the next objective. Hopping between rooftops in the snow with the masses walking below you is sometimes breathtaking in its beauty and complexity. Animation continues to be top notch as characters move in astoundingly versatile ways, and the number of NPCs on screen has been increased enough that the cities really feel full of life. It also enhances the handful of missions that take place during large-scale battles in America's history, and navigating huge battlefields and countless soldiers is memorably exciting.

Regardless of how everything looks, there are still technical hiccups to surmount. The most egregious offender is the horrific texture pop-in that takes place upon entering almost any area. There were times I would just wait almost a minute as muddy stand-ins finally rendered into houses and trees for me to traverse, that is, if the game didn't keep me frozen in place while I waited. The fast travel system has been streamlined so that one need only access the map and zoom in and out to go practically anywhere, but all this waiting seems to counterbalance the new ease. Moving on, sometimes the AI just acts strangely, and this is excepting battle instances where Regulars more or less line up to die. You'll enjoy chasing someone who forgets you're trying to kill him when something walks in his way, people who talk to you without looking at you or staying nearby to be heard, soldiers who don't notice as you tear down your notoriety posters in front of them (this might be purposeful, but it doesn't make any sense), duplicating NPCs who speak and move in uncanny synchronicity, and of course, all those times your assassin either makes a stupid platforming decision due to imperfect camera tracking or when he just decides to run up a wall to no avail despite a nearby handhold. I want to defend the game for all its fun distractions and compelling missions, but you can't help but imagine what an extra year of development would have yielded. Let's not kid ourselves.

So badass, he can run through war unscathed.

But you're not playing the game simply to have fun. You are a fan and you want some resolution! Ezio and Altaïr got theirs in the last game, and it's time for Desmond to achieve whatever's he's been working towards all this time, right? Well, his story along with the threat of the apocalypse do wrap up, but they do so in a manner that forces the player to ask too many new questions for it to be satisfying. I could've gone for a greater sense of accomplishment after all Desmond and I have been through together (including his weird face lift between Brotherhood and Revelations). Connor's story ends in a more fulfilling manner even if it does stretch the limits of credibility to get him to the conclusion successfully.

Sadly, the story surrounding Connor is more interesting than he is. Whether it is his voice actor, the script, or a mixture of both, he is a needlessly aggressive and argumentative protagonist given the opportunity to be the savior to an infamously oppressed set of people. His conversations with others are generally uncomfortable, and I couldn't help but feel annoyed that the first native American character I've had the opportunity of playing as becomes the first hero in this series I've had enough of after one game. I actually find it amusing that the spoiler-laden launch trailer for Assassin's Creed III features Connor stating, "It is time for the world to know my name," when in fact, his actual name is left at the beginning of the game due to its supposedly challenging pronunciation. The character is flawed, but not in a worthwhile way, and his rich heritage is never embraced in a respectable way. Thus, it's also a learning opportunity completely missed unless you peruse the exhaustive database.

All in all, Assassin's Creed III, is a fun time sink with many bothersome flaws. The added navigation possibilities, weather effects, NPCs on the screen, and other design features coupled with the more streamlined controls add up to a more enlightened game for fans of the series, but it comes with the added acknowledgement that all of these things belonged in the earlier games. Basically, compared to the leap the second numbered entry had over the first, the game we all waited for with a "III" in the title only adds some very nice and necessary touches to a familiar coat of paint with the only standout being the naval missions. It tries to get away with adding a new character while closing out the story of another one, but it ends up being a facade. Fans will want to know what happens and will still revel in the familiar gameplay, thankful for the tweaks. Newcomers will be baffled by the story enough to not want to bother dipping their toes in the pool, not that Connor does much to convince them otherwise. It adds up to a game I really, really enjoyed playing due to its familiarity but was continually aware that I've enjoyed other, more recent games a little bit more because of the new elements they brought to the table. I look forward to the next entry, and I can only hope with futility that Ubisoft will actually take the time to catch up.

All images obtained from Game Informer.
I'd also like to note that the subheading to this review is a reference to the amazing Dress to Kill comedy special by Eddie Izzard.

Far Cry 3 Review

Cool Jungle, Bro

One of the beautiful sights of Rook Island

I must say that I've developed quite a fondness for sandbox games. Whereas some people are paralyzed by the ton of things to do, I become obsessed with trying to do all of them. Far Cry 3, developed by Ubisoft, was honestly not on my radar, but I was given the opportunity to try it out. Let me tell you, this game is a lot of fun, and if you're looking for yet another game to scratch that sandbox itch, there is really no way to go wrong with this game.

I'll start with what is the weakest element of the game so far, which is the story. The main narrative begins with with a group of friends vacation in the Pacific islands somewhere, and they end up skydiving over Rook Island. It seems their landing was rockier than normal because it landed them in the grips of a drug and human trafficking ring of pirates somehow, managed by the intense Vaas Montenegro. After a bungled stealthy escape attempt, the game's hero, Jason Brody, manages to run for his life through the jungle before he passes out. A man residing with the local Rakyat rebels, Dennis, saves you from certain death and tries to empower you to save your friends and support the local cause. He simply sets Jason off on his quest into the dangerous jungle. As Jason points out to him, he's never even shot a gun in his life, but so goes the story of a bro who becomes a hero. (Hebro?)

After finishing some introductory steps, the whole of Rook Island becomes Jason's oyster to crack. Along with following the story, there are a number of side activities to follow. First, in similar fashion to the Assassin's Creed series, climbing to the top of radio towers reveals portions of the map to better navigate the terrain and find secrets, and there are many secrets. Chests containing ammo and money, ancient relics, memory cards with pirate logs, and letters from WWII are littered all over the island. Next, there are outposts in every square area of the map; by overtaking these areas for the rebels, the amount of enemies reduces making the majority of that section relatively safe for passage.

There is nothing creepy about this scene.

The game even rewards Jason with more XP based on how stealthily these outposts are claimed. As much as I enjoy this, given my preference for stealth, I can't help but feel bad for the players who prefer to waltz in with guns blazing. The game even rewards you for stealthy takedowns better than normal shooting. Still, taking over these areas are fun, and when you're done, they become fast travel points replete with a locker that acts as a mini-shop and extra sidequests including assassination missions and rare animal hunting. What remains baffling still is that when you're done, the local rebels drive in with a handful of guys holding machine guns. Almost all the rebels hold machine guns. Why can't they take over these places themselves? Better yet, why can't you recruit them to help you? The connection is so obvious there.

Personal progression through the game is represented by a strange tattoo involuntarily given to Jason early in the game. Utilizing a skill tree system with three branching paths, as you learn skills, the tattoo grows down your forearm, a symbol of your growing skill as a warrior. Great games have great skill trees, and this one is no exception with unique abilities like kicking an enemy away from you as you pull his grenade clip or taking down a guard stealthily and using his knife to kill another one. However, those great skill trees don't always need great backstories, and this tattoo, which grows on its own without ink, only has a ridiculous explanation. Circling back to the story, this ultimately makes Jason's story of a simple partying twenty-something turned guerilla warrior seem like it could only possibly appeal to the already empowered single heterosexual white male audience that most video games are already marketed towards. It's a rather shameless plea for their rapt attention. You can already imagine Jason's friends after the end game going, "Cool tat, bro!" For a game that is enough fun to appeal to anyone, it is sad to have a sellout protagonist geared towards a niche demographic. That said, to Jason's credit, he is not silent in a story that demands he speak up, one of my gripes with Dishonored before.

Back to the good, though, Rook Island bears one of the most fascinating terrains I've explored in video games. The designers really went through a lot of trouble to create a huge area that is actually believable as a setting. With only endless waters surround Rook Island as a hidden wall around the whole setting, the environment  of Far Cry 3 is really yours to travel and have fun with. The terrain has many elevations ranging from tall mountains to underground caves. Every time I found a waterway that led to the middle of the land via a winding cave system, I was in awe. However, getting lost is not really an option. The map allows you to set way points to any objective, outpost, or mission, and the minimap is handy enough to help you navigate the local terrain without popping open the main map too often. I think it could afford to have mulitple zoom options (like the one in Grand Theft Auto IV), though, which would help with fast driving segments over and around hills where you can't see the road ahead too well.

Seriously, look at this.

Along with the varied topography, Rook Island features equally varied wildlife populating the area. As I said, you are given missions to hunt some of these animals, but otherwise, they are roaming free waiting to be picked off. Although you are not rewarded with any XP for the endeavor, the game features a crafting system that utilizes the hides from the deer, boars, tigers, and whatnot wandering in the wild. At the beginning of the game, Jason's ability to carry ammo and money is limited until he can craft larger carriers for all his stuff. Each time you craft an item, the next size up usually requires the hide of an animal in a completely different section of the island, which encourages more exploration and risk taking.

Also in each area are different color classes of flora, which Jason can use to craft syringes that enhance his performance (ahem) and abilities. I won't deny that all of these systems are useful and provide more fun to have in this well-developed game, but once again, the writers ask me to suspend a lot of disbelief. Jason is immediately knowledgeable in the art of hunting and skinning an animal, though his grunts of disgust never dissipate regardless of how often he does it. Slicing leaves off of plants is an easier skill for me to believe he can figure out on his own, but his willingness to shove syringes in his arm repeatedly tells me that he should've been in rehab instead of traveling the world. Oh, and this is all without going into his divinely conceived recipes and crafting diagrams for this stuff. And can anyone explain why he needs two deer hides to make a so-so wallet, but he can't craft a larger wallet with either more deer hides or better utilization of large hides? How does he know he needs a tapir? Has he ever seen one before?

Far Cry 3 features a plethora of weaponry to fit your killing desires. On top of covering essentially every class of firearm you could desire, it also feature multiple types of each, including a bow and arrow to make you feel like Rambo. (Rambro?) Then, if that doesn't sate you, you can purchase attachments to modify almost each gun to your liking, such as better sights and silencers. I have never played a game carrying an arsenal of bow and arrow, silenced sniper rifle, and silenced assault rifle before, but it makes me feel awesome. If the price for any high class weapon seems prohibitive, climbing the aforementioned radio towers and reestablishing radio access to the locals opens up higher classes of weapons for free. With all the XP and money you can earn from sniping random pirate camps and the like, this game is practically giving you more power away for little effort. It could probably afford to be a little more restrictive with the weapons, but I can't complain while I'm having fun accomplishing my tasks with deadly accuracy. The only problem is the backstory with the skills designates that until you reach a certain point in the main narrative, you will be stuck a limited set of skills to unlock and a surplus of skill points waiting to be spent. I personally recommend breezing through the story at a quicker pace to make the skill tree more accessible sooner.

To accompany the continuously fun gameplay, the graphics are really gorgeous. Not simply a console port, the settings allow players to really ramp it up and make it look quite lush. Admittedly, since The Witcher 2, this is the first game in a while that I couldn't run on max settings without sacrificing playability, but even on lowered settings, the game looks really good. An additional bonus is that human and animal character models all look good and animate believably, though the game suffers from the common trope of giving the most discernible details to the main characters, leaving the citizens of Rook Island to live with doppelgangers meandering about.

The majority of textures look good and are fairly passable up close, i.e., I did not focus on muddiness like I do in other games. The plants are all gorgeous from afar, too, but hiding in a bush does reveal the cracks in the rendering work. I should also mention that I experienced zero texture pop-in. The soundtrack varies from tribal to techno, which is all fitting without any one song standing out from the rest. Voice acting is all handled well and words generally match lip movements on all characters and NPCs. What is confusing is that the locals and rebels all speak Malay convincingly  but when it comes to English, they vary between a Pacific Islander accent and a Kiwi accent, going so far as to occasionally say, "Kia ora," when Jason passes by. I don't get it, but it's a detail the majority of gamers won't be bothered to notice.

Your digital camera acts as a way to tag and track enemies. Also, you can just look at the graphics better.

Control in Far Cry 3 is fairly comfortable with a typical mouse and keyboard setup on the PC. Most elements react well to input. The worst offender seems to be driving vehicles, where using a keyboard clearly lacks the nuance afforded by a controller with thumbsticks and pressure-sensitive trigger buttons. There is essentially one gear, and it's pedal to the metal. Also, the game allows you to maneuver the camera while driving, which I don't suggest doing ever because you'll drive off a cliff and not know why. In that regard, the game is a lot like real life! Another navigation gripe is the game's sensitivity to walking over small edges. I complained about something similar in Borderlands 2, but here it rears its ugly head in the silliest areas, requiring you to literally jump through doorways to proceed inside a house. Jason's ability to climb ledges is restricted to ones with overhanging ropes or vines that he doesn't actually use as grips despite their presence. Coming off of Dishonored, with the best first-person platforming ever, I found it jarring.

Finally, the game is a little too particular about the exact angle and distance at which you can interact with objects, such as found money and bodies to be looted. You have to be the in a precise position before it'll prompt you to do anything. This also emulates real life but in an unpleasant way. With all the money to steal and bodies to loot, you just want to grab and go. The worst culmination of all these came when I wanted to open a chest on a porch. I could not walk right onto the porch, of course, but the roof over it was too low for me to jump onto the porch. However, the extra foot the edge of the porch set me away from the chest prevented me from opening it. I had to climb nearby stairs on the other side of the house, jump onto and over a lounge chair placed at the corner, and maneuver myself to the chest that way. Imagining this scenario in real life yields only puzzlement.

Regardless of all these meaningless faults, I must reiterate that Far Cry 3 is a ridiculous amount of fun. The narrative notwithstanding, you will just have so much fun actually playing the game. The sandbox style is remarkably rewarding, and it affords you to have a very meaningful time doing nothing important. There is just the right amount of things to do written into the gameplay, and there are enough enemies, animals, and caves to pursue in between these moments. Combat is fun and provides a silly amount of options to play the way you want. Even as frustrating as it is to hear a tiger growling right behind you while you are picking off a pirate base one guard at a time, it's these unique moments that separate the game from others. I don't know what else I can tell you. Go play it!

Images obtained by playing the games through Uplay through Steam. It's like video game launch Inception.