Mass Effect 3: Leviathan DLC Review

Oh, that's why.

I told you the weak spot is between the legs. Look!

BioWare released their first story DLC for Mass Effect 3, titled, "Leviathan." Well, this isn't the first story content per se, but it's a new original mission as opposed to an expansion on the controversial ending. The goal behind it was to offer up more information on the origins of the Reapers, and that's exactly what it does. In terms of pacing, "Leviathan" is remarkably formulaic. It starts with a trip to a new area on the Citadel, and from there you will be dispatched to another system and return to the Citadel two more times before completing the DLC in another system. Compared to "Overlord" for Mass Effect 2, which was huge and took place on a singular world, or "Lair of the Shadow Broker," which took the player to many locations with a lot of variety thrown in, this back-and-forth travel felt like a lost opportunity to build upon the quality BioWare established in the last round.

Still, this trip is undeniably more of the gameplay we love from Mass Effect 3, and formula aside, it does throw in some new mechanics including searching for clues in a laboratory and piloting a mech underwater. Though enjoyable, these novelties do not act as major draws, just as means to an end. In keeping with the triad of enemy types available in the main game, you only have one set of enemies during the two and a half hours it takes to complete "Leviathan" – Reaper forces. Given the backstory, this isn't surprising, but the developers didn't even throw in a boss fight for good measure. You only combat scripted sequences of gauntlets of Reaper forces until your next objective. One of the boons of "Leviathan" is a significant amount of discoverables including XP and money boosting supply reserves and new expansions for your weapons. The most notable expansion is a melee enhancement for assault rifles, but I did not test out its efficacy.

Underwater shenanigans.

The main attraction, the story, brings a lot to the table, however. It begins with a war-changing discovery, which leads to the DLC's main pursuit of yet another possible weapon against the Reapers. Without exaggerating, the lessons the player learns via "Leviathan" are a necessity for both players who have finished the game already and players who still have yet to finish. On top of achieving a much-needed backstory for all three games in the series, it also solves one of the greater paradoxes of the ending, extended cut included. For me, it really completed the mythos and put my mind at ease about how the writers chose to wrap up the series' events. I am dead serious about this.

At $10 (800 BioWare or MS points), the question of whether or not this is a worthwhile purchase is debatable. I would argue that this is a must play because of what the ending reveals to you. It makes the ending to the game as a whole much better. The problem is that the overall flow of the events that bring you to the end are not as thrilling, so it really depends on how much you want the excellent origin story offered here. I do not regret my purchase in the slightest, but for anyone less interested in absorbing the details of the Mass Effect universe, this would be a hard sell. But if you just want to know more or resolve some bitter feelings you've been harboring against the writers since March, buy it right now. Trust me.

Those aren't crows.

Although Origin does not feature a screenshot feature, I ran it through Steam, creating a software platform Voltron, whereby I could take screenshots.

Alan Wake Review, Episode III

The Case of the Ever-Changing Loadout

Part I and Part II of my episodic review.

Ragtag group of misfits.

 I recently completed the remainder of Alan Wake and the two bonus DLC chapters, and I must admit that I was left rather satisfied. Although the story becomes much more linear in the latter half of the game, there are enough scenarios thrown in that make reaching the dangling carrot the least of your worries. I actually found it amusing how often the objective would be to reach Point A only to change into something else every other minute. The effect was elongating the chapter without making it seem artificial. The player can often see the objective and coolly think, "Oh, it's right down there," but two hours will pass, and surprise, the objective still has not been completed.

Some character story arcs were left dangling. At the end of the game, you only truly find out what happened to two major characters, and the rest is left up to speculation. This isn't so problematic as there are only a few avenues of assumption you can take with the remaining townsfolk. But one does wonder! One thing I appreciated about the final chapter is that there were no major plot holes left. Every shred of foreshadowing from the beginning was addressed, and the only questions that remain were purposely left by the writers for the player to contemplate.

The mandatory trope of a horror scene happening somewhere in a church is complete.

There is one more bone I'd like to pick, and it's regarding loadout. At times, Alan will reach the major goal for that section of the game, and after a cutscene, he'll be left to continue on his quest. Bafflingly, even if he reached a safe haven or simply took a car ride, Alan will set off on his next objective with different weapons or a weaker flashlight. I'll just say it's disappointing to reach a house at night with a heavy lantern, a hunting rifle, and tons of ammo and flares only to be dispatched in the morning with a regular flashlight and maybe a pistol with a few bullets. This is an unnatural way to impose resource conservation especially when it doesn't make any sense in the flow of the narrative. I can accept heated moments when Alan would not have time to grab all his items, but if there's no rush, you'd think he would stock up. Maybe I'm nuts, but it reminds me of games like Dead Space, which do a better job at making enemy scenarios more challenging without screwing with your weapons and ammo.

Overall, I really enjoyed Alan Wake. The story, while not overly affecting, is compelling and makes proceeding through the game worthwhile without running on too long. I also greatly enjoyed the overall flow of the gameplay and the combat despite my nitpicking. Neither the combat nor the narrative comes off as tacked on, which is a testament to effective game design. However, I would suggest tossing it up for future entries. In actuality, the only enhancement to basic third-person shooting is the flashlight mechanic, and future iterations with no changes to this would start to feel tired quickly. Hopefully, Remedy Entertainment does more with the light/dark mechanic to keep things fresh. I also hope they keep up the presentation quality. This was one of the better looking games I've played, and the scenery and lighting effects never grew stale. Just some work on the character models and lip-synching is greatly needed.

Don't be fooled. They're lanterns of doom.

"The Signal" and "The Writer"

The Steam version of Alan Wake comes with the bonus DLC chapters, "The Signal" and "The Writer," which came out after the game was released on the Xbox 360. When you finish the main campaign, the credits scroll, and you are returned to the main menu, so you must manually select these episodes to continue Alan's story. Without spoiling too much, they serve to elaborate on what happens to Alan after the ending of the main story, and they set the game up for a sequel. The story between the two episodes is peculiar but less compelling. Although the goal is obvious, it is readily apparent they are for players who just want to play more Alan Wake more than to offer truly though-provoking revelations about his predicament.

Although mostly intact, there are a few new gameplay elements, which were previously introduced in the very final act of the core game. Due to the surreal setting, ammo stashes and batteries are supplied by words hanging out in the environment. Shining the flashlight on them forces them to release their load. This flows into other areas where words, such as "bridge," "rock," or "climb," reveal objects required to proceed to the next objective. The words also play into combat where "boom" and "fireworks" either destroy the Taken or remove the darkness from them, setting up easier shots.

This feels right.

While "The Signal" feels grossly linear in the way it makes Alan navigate the world, "The Writer" shines by creating platform puzzles that stretch the imagination to greater proportions. The setting for both is a rehash of familiar environments from the core game, but they are effectively remixed and tossed about with new survival scenarios to keep everything exciting and new. It all still looks good, but sadly, there is no daylight to speak of, which I enjoyed before. In one scenario, a cabin and a tunnel are merged together into a continually rotating maze that Alan must proceed through lest he get dropped into the abyss below it. Things like this keep "The Writer" more fun than "The Signal," so at least the DLC ended on a good note. I would say these episodes are worth playing if you have them by default like I did, but due to the lack of important narrative additions and short length (about 2 hours each), they are not bringing anything to the table for your dollar. It'd be better to wait for a sequel.

All images taken myself via Steam's screenshot feature.

Alan Wake Review, Episode II

The League of Extraordinary Heavy Machinery

"We'll stay up all night and tell ghost stories and practice making out with our pillows!"

I forgot to mention in my previous entry that Alan Wake features yellow paint that is only visible with a flashlight pointed at it. Often times, it reveals a message from some anonymous graffiti artist about your current situation – "TRUST NO ONE IN THE DARK." Also, you will occasionally find arrows or paw prints of some sort which lead you to a chest containing ammo, flares, or batteries. The painted path terminates in an encircled torch above the chest, and you typically know you're following it correctly because of the faint sound of a woman's breath in the background. That might be my favorite touch. Earlier on in the game, Alan can follow these detours into dark tunnels or behind houses and return to the beaten path unscathed. I am now part way through Chapter 4 of the game, and the safety has changed. Opening the chest and claiming its items often leads to an ambush shortly after. But let's not ignore the fact that the Taken are polite enough to wait for the player to stock up.

The third chapter also marked the first time I used the Energizer batteries I am behooved to collect. I did write that the flashlights recharge on their own, but when Alan is surrounded by enemies, the larger of which take longer to strip of their dark veneer, focusing for too long makes them run out of juice. Usually, I would just run around like a ninny until it was useful again, but some situations are desperate, and my finger found its way to the Q key to insert batteries. Now, I was avoiding this because I incorrectly assumed that it would take as long to replace the batteries as it would to reload a gun with bullets. Wrong – Alan Wake asks the player to suspend his belief again while tapping the battery reload key instantly energizes (see what I did there?) the flashlight to usefulness again. It takes about three to fill 'er up, and if you're a good hoarder like me, you will always have batteries handy. So of course, I am taking full advantage of this logic leap as it becomes necessary, but the mechanics of the magical flashlights will continue to elude me.

You would think that the LIGHTning would wipe out the DARKening. You'd be wrong.

Chapter 3 also starts Alan's war with things. Objects become possessed by the darkness and fling themselves at the protagonist to impede him in his travels. They usually will be barrels or boxes littered about, but the Dark Presence also likes to possess building pillars, freight cars, and in one harrowing sequence, a bulldozer. I like these sequences since they require a different strategy than the Taken. You defeat the objects with light alone, so it is just a matter of being able to dodge flying objects coming towards you. Until one becomes possessed, trees and lamposts are helpful with impeding the flight path of wayward objects, but as I found out in one sequence, you sometimes need them to fly right at you to break open pathways. Empathizing with Alan in this case, that wasn't fun, maybe because it took me a bit to realize that's what needed to happen.

Navigating through Bright Falls and the chapters is still compelling. Alan Wake's writers have provided some clever sequences where Alan is essentially defenseless save for his flashlight, and he needs to manage his batteries and short sprinting ability to make it between "safe" areas. Sometimes I feel compelled to fight the tide of Taken coming, but I wake up from my delusion shortly after I take a gander at my ammo count. Chapter 3 is easily longer than both of the first two chapters combined, so I no longer play just one chapter before turning in for the night. My brain allows itself an arbitrary number of scripted sequences to experience before finding a safe haven and quitting. Then, I become impatient in my desire to return to the game and get Alan to true safety, a concept the story has already dissolved entirely. A twist came about, one that the Internet ruined for me a few years ago, but the un-twist, if you will, came next, and I became proud of the writers for not letting me down. It easily brought Alan Wake out of horror movie and into worthwhile gaming experience. The manuscript pages now capture my interest more, too. The writing may still be forced in its composition, but the content is gripping. Without spoiling it further, they both reveal the future and make the player desperately want to know what happens next in both the narrative and the pages. I'd compare the experience to watching two TVs showing the same program with a 10-20 minute time difference.

Well, I was hoping for a Snickers bar.

I would say I am at the point where I feel comfortable recommending the game to others, but I have not witnessed the end game, which could become a giant let down. For now, the characters are unique, and the Dark Presence has become a formless antagonist, which I hope to dissect further. Alan Wake begins with a Stephen King quote, which indicates that a good horror story does not reveal why the horror is happening. If that is the case, I hope the ending gives me just enough to swallow my suspense.

Part III

All images taken myself via Steam's screenshot feature.

Alan Wake Review, Episode I

Why am I collecting thermoses?

I started playing 2010's Alan Wake, developed by Remedy Entertainment, for PC on Sunday. My friends seemed generally divided about whether it's worth playing or not. Some insisted that I should play it, while others were wholly dismissive of it. Regardless, the game has always intrigued me. I enjoy thrillers and horror, and it seemed to have a concept unlike any I've experienced in a game before.

The end of a battle. Just in time, too.

The story involves the titular character, Alan, and his wife abandoning their home in New York to vacation in the fictional lakeside town, Bright Falls, Washington. Alan has been suffering from severe writer's block, and the hope is that he'll be able to clear his head. Much to his chagrin, an evil darkness begins to possess the world at night, and Alan is forced to do battle with this mysterious evil. The story, in and of itself, is unique to the video games I've played while not completely original if one were to branch out to other media. Making the primary protagonist a writer and featuring manuscript pages seems risky in that the developers invite not only criticism of their game writing but their in-game writing as well. I've only completed two chapters thus far, and while I've enjoyed my time with it, I do wonder if there will be a big revelation or twist that will impress me or if the characters will just ride out the story laid out thus far with some predictably bombastic ending. I will admit that while I appreciate the manuscript pages' purpose in the narrative, I do find Wake's writing to be a bit hammy when taken in one-page bites. (By the way, A. Wake? Come on, you guys.)

He's not kidding.

In terms of motivation, Alan Wake offers a guy like me good incentive: I want to get out of the dark. I will readily admit that I am not the best a action games; I lack l337 skills. I play most games on the easiest difficulty so that I can enjoy the story with little hindrance. A few notable exceptions were Uncharted 3, which I regrettably played on Normal, and Bayonetta, which I have only played on Normal and Hard and seriously loved every minute of it. I'm doing this one on easy, and you can mock my gamer cred henceforth if it pleases you. Returning to the game at hand, when darkness falls, people possessed by the darkness, "the Taken," come out of nowhere to wreak havoc on our city boy writer. It makes me jump, especially when the game just moves or drops objects out of no where for some cheap thrills. Exploitation aside, nothing has made me stick to the ceiling as much as the tentacles from Dead Space, but it is enough to keep my heart thumping and me looking for every pool of light to take shelter in.

Combat in Alan Wake is also original. Though armed with a pistol or shotgun during darkness segments, Wake's best weapon is his flashlight. Defeating the enemies requires focusing the flashlight on them until the requisite blanket of darkness that envelops them has disappeared. Then, shoot. On the easy difficulty, many enemies are easily felled by two bullets from the pistol, but larger hulks require a shot gun or a onesie weapon like the flare gun, which removes the darkness and kills in a single hit. I am trepidatious with shooters, typically wishing to shoot everything haphazardly and be done with it, but I honestly enjoy this extra layer. It never comes off as artificial filler, and it keeps the player engaged, managing two systems of offing the Taken instead of Rambo-ing through with beefed up weaponry. I have one problem with it, though. In order to make the darkness disappear quickly and effectively, you must focus the flashlight on the enemy using the right mouse button. When not focused, the flashlight will recharge its own battery, though not fast enough for heated encounters. My question is what flashlight in our reality does this? The story is effective so long as we understand that the Taken are part of an extraordinary circumstance in what is otherwise the real world. But they have magic flashlights. In fact, you can even do this with vehicle headlights, which is more boggling. I know I should suspend my belief, and if the flashlights behaved normally, it's a wonder how long it would take to progress, but seriously, has no one thought hard about this?

Just a small town with small town folk.

The game features an episodic structure, containing a number of chapters to fit the whole writing motif. The beginning of each chapter features a recap of what has happened thus far, and the end of each involves a title card hanging out on the screen while a song plays in the background. (You can skip this.) I find these features to be rather novel, and the end of the second chapter was capped with "Haunted" by Poe, which I adore. The narrative is obviously linear, but Alan Wake throws in some other diversions along the way. Alan can collect blue thermoses strewn about the wilds of Bright Falls, listen to radio programs, watch the game's version of The Twilight Zone on various TVs, and even shoot some can pyramids down. The collectible items serve further to suck the player out of focus, and justifying them within the narrative gives Wake a mildly schizophrenic thought process - I'm really scared and want to go home, but I see something flashing over on that hill that I must have. The radio and TV shows are dichotomous, however, both aiding the setting with their eccentricities and unnecessarily distracting the main character from getting out of Dodge by having him stand around for five minutes. The breadcrumbs left by Remedy Entertainment in this case are confusing, and it would have served the story more to give Alan some bonus within the narrative via the collectibles.

Cynicism aside, Alan Wake features applaudable visuals. I am playing the game at a 1920 x 1080 resolution on the highest graphical settings, and it features some really beautiful vistas with no slowdown or framerate issues that I have noticed. Bright Falls and its environments look great, and it's almost a shame the game takes place mostly in the dark because the daylight and sunset are handled rather beautifully. Although objects are rather sparse, the overall effect and the landscape are really what shine, and they are enhanced via a natural color palette and bloom lighting effects. I also love how enemies disappear into sparks, and the game's subtle cue that a battle is over by making the last enemy die in a larger flash. The odd transitions between the engine-rendered and the pre-rendered cutscenes reveal jarring lighting changes between the two, and it never seems to make sense why the tones need to change for such brief moments. Frankly, this is one of those games that makes me question why they have pre-rendered cutscenes at all. Still, the quality is high and easy on the eyes with both. The vocal performance is another double-edged sword, with voice acting being well executed and the lip syncing negating that execution. There is also the matter of characters who will talk to Alan while he runs around looking for thermoses without changing the directions their facing or trying to slap him into paying attention.

Well, let's be honest. Nobody was going to use it.

There will be more to come as I continue to play the game, but hopefully, this serves as an indicator of what to expect starting out. In the meantime, don't forget to stock up on Energizer batteries. The game won't let you forget!

Part II
Part III

All images taken myself via Steam's screenshot feature.

Papo & Yo Review

A treatise on the concept of fun.

I have played sentimental games, and I have played games with true genius behind them, but rarely have I witnessed the two intertwined successfully. Often, games with raw emotional experiences sacrifice gameplay for storytelling, and some games with clever mechanics have lackluster stories. Depending on how you judge common gameplay devices, you might consider Papo & Yo, a new PSN exclusive from Minority Media, to be the perfect blend.

Papo & Yo acts as an allegory about a boy and his alcohol abusing father. Creative director, Vander Cabellero, is not simply content with letting the metaphor run by itself, so the game will wear its origin on its sleeve multiple times until it becomes readily apparent during the final few acts. Unlike Braid, this creator's vision will not remain hidden or argued about over internet forums. Caballero sought to share his own experience growing up with an alcoholic father through Papo & Yo, but while the purpose is clear, he is not pandering towards a specific population. This is a game one can easily enjoy, metaphor be damned, but the hope is the player will come away with something new to think about by the end. Without being didactic, Papo & Yo's story leaves the player to make his or her own conclusions about how to feel towards the characters.

The father in this game is represented by Monster, a large aptly-named creature that follows the main protagonist, Quico, a preteen boy, through a fantastical version of the favelas of Brazil. These shanty towns, built by arbitrarily stacking box-like houses on top of and around each other, serve as the perfect backdrop to this well-imagined tale. In contrast to an action game's typical tour through South America, often involving gangs and drugs, the favela is a colorful and benevolent landscape rife with puzzles to solve. The game largely appears to be imagined, and many of the puzzles Quico encounters take this real-life environment and show the player how a child might think it came to be. The mechanics behind solving them typically involve chalk drawings of levers, gears, and keys that Quico must use to literally move the homes of the favela around in order to proceed. Quicio, himself, acts as a serviceable platform navigator, being able run at a useful speed, withstand long jumps to the ground, and eventually cross larger gaps with the aid of his toy robot, Lula. Monster may be the primary antagonist, but like any human being, he isn't pure evil, and the game never paints him as such. The majority of the time, Quico can seek his aid with stepping on large switches or by using his tummy as a trampoline while he falls asleep against some propped-up boards. It is obvious that Quico and Monster are or should be friends, but Monster's weakness for frogs steps in the way of building that friendship to a fruitful level. When consumed, these frogs send Monster in a fiery rage, and the only target is the boy, who must run away and find a way to calm him in order to proceed. However, this is not a giant escort mission, and unlike Ico, neither character is helpless; theirs is a sad tale of codependence, but the wedge between them grows ever stronger.

A larger than life puzzle being solved with cardboard boxes.

The game is very linear and playable in 4-5 hours, but these qualities work to its credit. Every part of the environment the player can access is a room where a puzzle or land traversal will occur, and there are no notable forks in your path. There is one way to proceed, and if you enter an area initially of no use, you'll be back there in five minutes once you do some work elsewhere. Normally, when you play a game enough, these characteristics can become negatives, but in Papo & Yo, I would argue that they contribute to the genius I mentioned previously. Quico is not wandering the favela with Monster by coincidence. Unlike Mario's sisyphean trials and tribulations, which put him in an arguably confusing and unexplained land with each iteration, there is nothing random about this world. It is what Quico knows, and though it is not immediately apparent when starting a new game, he makes his way to each new section with purpose. Sidequests would only serve as distractions from the primary focus, and the game doesn't grant any trophy-rewarding collectibles until the second playthrough. Many of the questions the player may have during the beginning will be answered during play save for those most philosophical. The game is short because it has to be, and in a world where players increasingly demand bang for their buck, they need to accept the esoteric immediacy of the story's larger concept as the treasured bang.

The favela, both real and impossible.

All the puzzles Quico solves are organically incorporated into the favela environment. While the keys and levers that move the puzzle pieces may be inorganic, and the player doesn't see what put them there, their necessity becomes understandable. The world isn't telling Quico what he needs to advance so much as Quico imagined it himself. They start small, but eventually you will enter large areas with large machinations to use. These room-filling puzzles made up my favorite moments in the game, involving stacking homes to build a bridge or using the land as a large trap for a raging Monster. It is not long before the recognizable objects give way to abstractions protruding from the landscape, and the journey reveals larger instabilities in the environment, which beautifully reinforce both the reality and the fantasy behind the main character's trials.

Despite taking place within the imagination of a young boy, Quico is limited. He cannot fly, and, Lula notwithstanding, he cannot perform any grand feats. It begs the question of why a child would imagine himself in a world with limits, but self-sabotage is not a new concept to a victim of abuse. It is worth considering here. That said, pondering why Quico can't pick up a simple flower pot will only reveal design flaws. If it's not related to the quest at hand, Quico will not be interacting with it, and even in AAA games, frivolous accessible objects are becoming harder to explain. Additionally, although it only becomes obvious in a few scenes, characters' mouths don't move when they speak. Despite the fact that many gamers built emotional bonds with characters who often lacked fully-developed mouths entirely, when the camera zooms in on the face of a speaking person, it is rather unsettling to look at a frozen face. Unfortunately, there are real technical flaws to be witnessed, as well, the most common of which is collision detection. Monster's hulking frame and other objects in the environment intersect each other in unnatural ways that do not fit the fantasy. Though largely benign, these issues become offensive when Monster becomes frozen and unresponsive because of them, thus prohibiting the player's ability to proceed through the game. I finished the game twice, and this happened three times, only during my first playthrough. Thankfully, the third instance happened while Monster was already where I needed him, and activating the next puzzle mechanism set him straight again. Luckily, Papo & Yo's short chapters lead to relatively frequent checkpoints, and quitting and reloading takes under thirty seconds. It is worth noting that I played only after the Day 1 patch was released, which resolved some often cited clipping errors; I am happy not to somber this review with any further bugs.

Quico using Monster's belly to get to higher places.

Faults aside, the presentation is commendable. The bright colors of the homes jut out of cobblestone roads and lush greenery. Many objects and textures are repeated, but each chapter rearranges, manipulates, and abstracts them in imaginative ways, and the confined spaces of the residential areas are often interrupted by huge environments containing water bodies and pitfalls. Visuals in Papo & Yo are both done before and completely original, creating a juxtaposition that keeps the player interested and motivated. Almost every chapter also features gorgeous graffiti, drawn with stark lines and bold colors. Some seem random, but advancing past them frequently reveals the relation to a story or gameplay element. There is no HUD, and on-screen cues are usually reasonably sized and clear, such as a tree with a word bubble containing a square to indicate how to interact with it. Dialogue is presented in black word bubbles with white type, but the spoken language is indiscernible and made up, increasing the global accessibility. Filling the aural void further is refreshing music with a heavy South American flair. Composed by La Hacienda, the songs you hear build drama behind the puzzle solving, and it all culminates in a beautiful track before the credits, featuring an angelic choir of children. The studio also recorded all the voice work and sound effects, which are all executed gracefully.

I am burdened with the fact that I cannot further discuss the concepts and metaphors that make this game such a work of art without revealing too much. I have already made too many conclusions here, but there are so many more to make. Suffice it to say that this game is very fun, with each drawn device building the fantasy and activating previously unseen ways to manipulate the environment, but fun comes at a price. Vander Cabellero and his Minority Media team make the player think about why we do fun things, what we ultimately stand to gain from having fun, and why fun isn't permanent. This is not a hero story. The plot twist is both completely unexpected and right in front of your nose. Before the game reveals it to you, it forces the player to sit through a truly heartbreaking moment of pause. This is a story about a very real boy and a very real situation. Via the element of play, you are drawn into his reality without your permission. Play it. Play it again. The final genius stroke may be that replaying the game makes sense within the context of the story.

Well played, Vander.

All images taken from GameInformer.com.

Music: I Love Video Game Soundtracks, Part II

Where the writer realizes his folly in trying to fit his passion into one blog post.

Yesterday, I went on quite a yarn about my love for video game soundtracks, and I managed to name some of my top picks for composers. But the sad truth is I just wasn't done. I simply felt bad for you, the reader, who would be forced to endure a year-long blog post, so I split it into two for your convenience. Without further ado, here are my remaining notable video game soundtrack composers.

Nobuo Uematsu
What I have heard: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VIII, Final Fantasy IX, Final Fantasy X, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children

"Prelude." One could make an argument for many of his songs as iconic, but "Prelude," a repeated theme throughout the Final Fantasy series (most of which, I have not played), not only acts as an introduction to some of the iterations, but hearing it invokes the spirit and memories of every Final Fantasy game you've ever played. There are several versions of it, but oddly, my favorite it the live version, as performed by the Distant Worlds orchestra. If you ever get a chance to see them perform, it's amazing, and Nobuo is usually not far. Aside from the larger game themes, such as "Liberi Fatali" and "The Place I'll Return to Someday," many fans remember the smaller pieces clear as day. Some of my favorites include the latter portion of "The Planet's Crisis" (FFVII) and "You're Not Alone" (FFIX). Often, the best way to describe his work is very JRPG and very fantasy, but there's a reason he's famous. It may have something to do with the memorable tunes.



Michael McCann
What I have heard: Deus Ex: Human Revolution

Even if you have not played the game, you probably watched the first epic trailer that came out for the game, which revealed the main story arc. The background music is the vocally lush sci-fi piece called, "Icarus." This and the remainder of the soundtrack really make the case for orchestral music standing alongside electronic music. You are never taken out of the futuristic setting of the game as you peruse the tracks composed by McCann. Notable tracks include the exciting "First and Last" and "Return to Hengsha," which layer the action elements of the game successfully into the sounds you hear.





Andrew Hale
What I have heard: L.A. Noire

If you listened to the L.A. Noire soundtrack without knowing what it's from, you'd think you were listening to an old movie soundtrack. Emulating a time period without grotesquely mimicking it can sometimes be a challenge, but every track in this album is a trip to another era. You can feel the mystery and tension build with each track, and the navigation from sweeping orchestras to soft jazz successfully root the listener in the spirit of the late 40s crime dramas. What I also enjoy about this soundtrack is Hale's suites of songs, which serve as the background to specific chapters in the game. Although they waver through highs and lows, their tones are usually fitting for the moments in the story they represent.



Bill Elm & Woody Jackson
What I have heard: Red Dead Redemption

This soundtrack is one of utmost quality. Like Andrew Hale's L.A. Noire, it successfully invokes the era of the game's setting, but where it stands apart is in how it modernizes it. You'll hear authentically Western-sounding guitar arrangements and string movements, but they will be layered on top of drum-and-bass beats and jarring arrangements. The build of the drums and orchestra in "El Club de los Cuerpos" hook me every time I hear it, especially one the herd of trumpets chime in. I also adore the percussion-navigated trip of "Triggernometry," whose main brass melody served as my phone's ringtone for a number of months recently. All the tracks serve the Rockstar pulp fittingly.




Mike Morasky
What I have heard: Portal, Portal 2

Although most of us only recall Ellen McLain's singing on "Still Alive" from the original Portal soundtrack, there is so much more to take notice of with Mike Morasky's compositions in Portal 2. There are obvious star songs like "Science Is Fun" and "You Will Be Perfect" to enjoy, but many of the tracks on the 3-disc score were procedurally generated in the game, meaning everyone's first experience with these songs was unique. Still, the composer, under the pseudonym, Aperture Science Psychoacoustics Laboratory, managed to bring all his samples together for an intriguing journey through the rundown puzzle gauntlet of the game. "Love as a Construct" and "You are Not Part of the Control Group" are two good examples of songs culled from these moments in the levels, and they ultimately add to the atmosphere of awe and wonder the player feels while trying hard not to die. Of the soundtracks I've mentioned thus far, it's worth noting that the orchestral work takes a back seat to seriously creative and compelling electronic musical structures. They typically return during larger story moments, but it is hard to miss them with all this good music being offered.

And the honorable mentions...

Without pumping out the theatrical writing for every soundtrack I own, I did want to mention additional selections from my library worth owning and listening to. (Also in no particular order.)

Tim Larkin

Soundtracks: Myst: Uru, Myst V: End of Ages

Songs of Note: "Villa," "Great Shaft"

Vincent Diamante

Soundtracks: Flower

Songs of Note: "Sailing on the Wind," "Purification of the City"

Solar Fields

Soundtracks: Mirror's Edge

Songs of Note: "Heat," "Pirandello Kruger"

Akira Yamaoka

Soundtracks: Silent Hill 3, Silent Hill 4

Songs of Note: "Breeze - In Monochrome Night," "Room of Angel"

Adam Skorupa & Krzystof Wierzynkiewicz

Soundtracks: The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings

Songs of Note: "The Path of a Kingslayer," "For a Higher Cause"

Tomas Dvorak

Soundtracks: Machinarium

Songs of Note: "Mr. Handagote," "Gameboy Tune"

Normand Corbeil

Soundtracks: Heavy Rain

Songs of Note: "Lauren Winter's Main Theme," "Before the Storm"

Jami Sieber

Soundtracks: Braid

Songs of Note: "Maenam," "Tell It By Heart"

Thank you for indulging me in this journey through one of my many loves. Please let me know what soundtracks you love!

Images taken from Amazon, iTunes, and other Googled sources.

Music: I Love Video Game Soundtracks, Part I

No, really, I'm serious.

My first video game soundtrack was Burn: Cycle, composed by Simon Boswell. The PC version of the game came with it by default. (By the way, does anyone remember the CD-i?) Be that as it may, it only ignited a small flame within me that would not rage into a fire for many years. Still, there were a few other notable additions to my soundtrack collection until it became a full-on obsession. I was among the small population that owned a Sega Saturn, which I purchased mainly for NiGHTS into DREAMS. I loved the game, but somehow or another, I discovered that the themes to all the boss battles, not the level music, were accessible via a regular CD player. That said, it meant I could eventually rip the music onto MP3 format once that became popular. The next game I could do this for was Earthworm Jim 2, which was composed primarily by Tommy Tallarico. That soundtrack was a double bonus because it contained some awesome tracks from him, but it also had the 3rd movement of Moonlight Sonata (Beethoven), which I think is the best movement.

It wasn't until Myst III: Exile did my interest truly get sparked. The theme to that game really opened my eyes to the potential a game soundtrack could possess. It also spoke to me directly as I have a rather exploitable love of songs that start small in production but become booming choral masterpieces by the end. Thus, Jack Wall created the standard by which I would judge future soundtracks, and the next one I would actually own would be Myst IV: Revelations, whose main theme is an awesome tribal piece done with a choir in 7/4 timing. However, it was hard to maintain just one composer to love as time went by.

Stepping back a little to the year, 2000, that is when I played Final Fantasy VIII on the PC. While I wouldn't own the soundtrack for a number of years, I think many gamers around the world are with me when I say this: "Liberi Fatali," the opening theme to the game, is a masterpiece on par with "Carmina Burana" (Orff) in terms of drama and fantastic choral work. I must have started a new game about 50 times either to watch the opening sequence myself or to show it to others, and it always solicited a "wow" response from my friends.

Well, these are my origins, but I won't go into every single inspiring soundtrack I've come across. There are probably many more I forgot or cannot access anyway. What I will focus on is the composers and their soundtracks or notable songs. I have played the games corresponding to each of these, and I honestly feel that your ears are missing something by not having access to some songs.

(In no particular order.)

Jack Wall
What I have heard: Myst III: Exile, Myst IV: Revelation, Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, Jade Empire

I already stated that I love him. You may have never heard of Myst III or IV (did you know there were sequels to Myst?), but I'll tell you what you have heard of: Mass Effect. He was lead composer on the soundtracks for both Mass Effect and Mass Effect 2, and he did just as much of an amazing job on both. They both possess arguably different sounds to match the narratives they back. Mass Effect has more of the sci-fi edge to it with a lot of notable synthesized sounds, but it also possesses a lot of drama. Songs like "Breeding Ground" and "Exit" are sweeping pieces that invoke memories of the exciting missions you encountered throughout the game. On a tamer note, though, "Uncharted Worlds" and "Vigil" have become iconic and hauntingly beautiful themes carried throughout the entire series, invoking a sad peace among the chaos of the larger story arcs. With Mass Effect 2, the focus shifted to the characters themselves, and they each have a theme. Starting with "The Illusive Man," which sets a haunting tone for one of the most notorious characters, the soundtrack almost serves as the narration itself. Listening to the undulating brass work on "Jacob" or the cries of the vocalists on "Samara" easily take you back to their characters and the missions you performed for and with them.

Sam Hulick, Sascha Dikiciyan, Cris Velasco, Chris Lennertz
What I have heard: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, Mass Effect 3

Although I would love to sing only Jack Wall's praises for the Mass Effect soundtracks, I simply cannot. He did not work alone. All of these composers created notable tracks across all three soundtracks. It's also worth noting that the Sonic Mayhem duo, Sascha Dikiciyan and Cris Velasco, did all the music to the Kasumi's Stolen Memory DLC, and Chris Lennertz composed the wildly dramatic scores to Overlord and Lair of the Shadow Broker DLCs.  Sam Hulick's notable contributions were on the Mass Effect soundtrack, where he composed the awe-inspiring theme for "The Normandy" and the victorious "From the Wreckage." Thus, it's worth mentioning that the game basically begins and ends with Sam Hulick. Just sayin'.



Jesper Kyd
What I have heard: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed II, Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood, Assassin's Creed: Revelations, Borderlands, Darksiders II

To me, Jesper Kyd was reinvigorating. Listening to his work made be super passionate about video game soundtracks all over again. At this point, he is mostly known for his work on the Assassin's Creed series and with good reason. Whereas the first game's soundtrack was impressive, with sweeping themes for the various Middle Eastern areas, such as "Flight through Jerusalem," his command over the audience comes with the opening triptych of Assassin's Creed II. If I could recommend three songs that belong together to play on repeat, it would be "Earth," "Venice Rooftops," and "Ezio's Family." Through them, he establishes a musical theme that would carry through the game via various instruments and voices. It manages to be memorable while subtle at the same time. These acclaims aside, it is the entirety of the Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood soundtrack where Kyd shines, and it is due to the excellent percussion work. There is so much variety in the percussion here, from the sounds of marching in "Flags of Rome" to the almost heart-like pounding of "Borgia Occupation," which sadly disappears from the game once you've successfully captured all of Rome for the assassins. Although I am still listening to it, I would like to assure the video game world that the Darksiders II soundtrack is arguably an even greater tour de force embodying so much variety and interest in its double-disc size.


Austin Wintory
What I have heard: flOw, Journey

This man entered my radar only this year, but I pray that he will never fall off. I could contend that that if you want an absolutely beautiful, emotional experience that is both complex and accessible, you will get the soundtrack to Journey. On top of a superb game, Wintory's soundtrack is maybe the deepest experience you could have via a single video game soundtrack. It is a journey in and of itself, and upon the epic arrival of "Apotheosis," life just feels complete. The composition of that song rises and rises almost endlessly until it plateaus at the apex of your aural desire. It is a truly unfathomable song and album. I bought the soundtrack to flOw out of curiosity, and while it maintains a much simpler atmosphere, it contains "Gratitude," which seems like a taste of the greatness Wintory has yet to unleash on the world years later.


Kow Otani
What I have heard: Shadow of the Colossus

There is nothing else to hear, honestly. Whereas Shadow of the Colossus presents so many arguments for the idea of video games as art, the soundtrack acts as the pedestal for every point you could bring up. Fighting a colossus ultimately becomes synonymous with the dramatic rise of a wild string orchestra, whose strings switch to victorious themes as soon as your sword penetrates the flesh beneath each glowing symbol you encounter. It is hard to choose a favorite, but I love the flurry of "A Violent Encounter." It usually stands as my great example, but it's unfair to choose. "A Despair-filled Farewell" features an almost crying horn that adds to the emotional realization that you spend the game killing majestic beings. And something begins to swell within me as soon as I hear the bells chime in "Epilogue ~Those Who Remain~," which backs the credits as the player observes the fallen heaps of his or her own handiwork. Seriously, this soundtrack is indescribably memorable through and through.


Rei Kondoh
What I have heard: Okami, Bayonetta

Rei Kondoh is definitely not the only composer on these humongous 5-disc soundtracks, but his songs remain the most memorable to me. I have a huge penchant for the dramatic, as I have said, and Rei fits the bill. I loved every minute of Okami, but I think I first took notice of the soundtrack during "Giving Kushinada a Ride," which plays as a beacon of strength during a time in the game when everyone has succumbed to the sad fate of one of the characters. The listener can feel that important heroics are afoot, and this song narrates the journey towards facing one's fate admirably. From the same soundtrack, "The Sun Rises" oddly makes me a bit teary-eyed. Following a suspenseful moment near the end of the game, it acts as a reprise of the game's main theme, but mixes it into a triumphant ballad that defeats evil with its notes alone. The Bayonetta soundtrack was notably all over the place in terms of style, but many of the booming tracks were composed by Kondoh, including all of the insane choirs that play during the epic boss fights. My favorites are near the end, though. "You May Call Me Father" backs an incredible battle as Bayonetta falls from the top of a huge skyscraper, and "The Greatest Jubilee" bears a sound as big as the universe as she fights to save it. These two tracks stand out for me because in contrast to the other boss themes, the choirs get notable reprieves from screaming their lungs out during a few movements, which makes their alarming return all the more deliberate and disquieting. If it would stir things up, I'd let Rei Kondoh conduct the choir at my funeral.


It does appear my passion for this post has gotten the better of me, so I will continue with a second part tomorrow! I do hope you're going and buying all these things, by the way.

(Part II can be found here.)


Images taken from Amazon, iTunes, and other Googled sources.

Indie Game: The Movie Review

Experiencing the dark vacuum between failure and success.

As much of a mystery that video game development remains to most gamers in general, it would appear that the world of indie game development maintains a more nebulous reputation. It is often easy to just imagine two guys goofing off in their parents' basements lobbing ideas back and forth at each other in a creatively nurturing environment. You can almost smell the Hot Pockets. I, too, am guilty of imagining my favorite indie games being produced in such a fruitful atmosphere. Indie Game: The Movie offers a stark contrast to the buddy comedy imagining of independent game development, and it drags the viewer into a rather dark emotional place that could exist in all of us; it just takes the right close-to-home project to suss it out.

Fez creator, Phil Fish, laments at his hotel's bar.

Kickstarted before kickstarting was cool, James Swirsky and Lisanne Pajot have crafted a fascinating tale of the development of two games, Super Meat Boy and Fez. Despite the naïveté with which I approached the film, the fun of video games is not present here, not that it has to be. Although the are struggles witnessed remain specific to the video game industry, the film ends up being more about coping with being on the cusp of finishing your life's work. The developers featured here find themselves in a state where not finishing their games is no longer an option, and the idea that success is not guaranteed weighs heavily on them, their families, and their qualities of life.

The two games featured in Indie Game: The Movie follow different paths towards the end of the film. Super Meat Boy is near the end of its development cycle, and two friends, Edmund McMillen and Tommy Refenes, are both cracking under the pressure of completing the game to make a special deadline for Microsoft (the game was developed for the Xbox 360). Edmund, a noted graphic artist and video game designer, lives far from Tommy, in a house shared with his wife, Danielle. It is clear that the couple dreams of a better life for themselves involving a bigger house and a sphinx kitten, but the long time it's taking to finish the game has left money tight, and the amount of time Edmund spends working each day leaves his relationship with his wife less than idyllic. Tommy, the main programmer, on the other hand, lives at home with his family, but while he lacks his own family and property to support, he clearly fears the void that would be left by an unsuccessful game launch. He remarks that his parents had to refinance their mortgage four years before paying it off, and he clearly wants to reward them for their continued encouragement. These two friends clearly have a strong bond, but there are not a lot of good times or laughter to watch. Perhaps in an effort to build tension from the start, Indie Game starts with the Super Meat Boy launch day, and a frantic Tommy is panicking because the game is no where to be seen on the Xbox Live Marketplace.

Tommy Refenes, Super Meat Boy programmer, works alongside an obscured Edmund McMillen.

Phil Fish, creator and artist behind Fez, has a largely insular experience throughout the film. His programming partner, Renaud, notwithstanding, he goes through the full gamut of emotions and depression entirely by himself. Whereas the viewer can sympathize with the weight of the work Edmund and Tommy have to do, Phil's story demands a part of the viewer's soul. It has been nearly five years since the game was revealed to the public in 2007, and after three overhauls and several missed deadlines, his visions of failure are continually exacerbated by the criticism he receives from Fez fans on the Internet. Like a nightmare indicative of the sorts of drug-induced hallucinations one would see in a thriller, these anonymous voices turned from resounding support to sickening death threats, and they ebb at Phil's already crumbling psyche. The pressure continues to build when Phil is faced with a potential legal battle with his former partner, which could prevent him from revealing his life's work at PAX East in Boston. Being unable to demo Fez to the public after years of waiting could mean the end of the game's development as a whole, and Phil reveals to the interviewer, whether literally or figuratively, that he would kill himself if he can't finish.

These are some dark tales, and the filmmaking never severs the disparity felt in Indie Game: The Movie. Save for a few moments, the interviewer remains absent, and there is no narrator. The developers tell their stories either to the camera or through their actions as they reach certain milestones on the way to the end of the film. Although video game fans are already aware that both games were successfully released to critical acclaim and significant sales numbers, these facts do not lessen the drama. To the film's credit, it never tries to make any statements about the video game industry itself, nor does it directly critique Microsoft or other publishers of digital content. It remains focused on these two development stories, perhaps in a futile effort to remind the fans that there are real people behind these games, and critique is not dispersed over a team of a thousand designers and programmers. Jonathan Blow of Braid fame is also featured for commentary. Although his game had been released to the public several years before (and Edmund McMillen contributed art to it, which was never used), Blow's presence offers a dissenting opinion on the aftermath of success; what happens when people love the fruits of your labor, but they don't understand it the way that you do? In his case, you take to the Internet to explain yourself.

For your consideration.

The whole of the documentary is filmed in very high quality, and much of the cinematography involves skewed angles and strong closeups on the people involved. The environment plays a large role in the trip into the developers' psyches, and the camera is often aimed at all the tiny elements that reveal the games' influences outside of the computers they were created on. However, sometimes the film reveals shots from their hometowns or outside convention centers, which do not contribute to the immersion the viewer needs to fully appreciate the tales told here. Ironically, the most irrelevant image is the one used for the bulk of the documentary's promotion: the SNES controller hanging from power lines. Despite the influence games of the SNES era may have had on the games featured here, there is no clear tie-in between this random shot and the developers. I would even argue that the fact that the SNES did not feature digital downloads or independent game development only harms the core themes of the film. But I digress.

Minor missteps aside, Indie Game: The Movie is a worthwhile and unexpected trip for the psyche. You will not learn how games are made or the secrets behind game publishing. Most likely, you will come away from the film with the understanding that choosing to work on a huge project with minimal help has major consequences, and the risk of failure becomes the elephant in the room the longer it takes to complete. Wrought with emotional tension and drama, it is a must for video game fans who are remotely curious about what happens before the fun.

Images taken from Steam.

Upcoming: Okami HD

Prepare to saturate yourself in Japanese lore.

It is nigh impossible for me to contain my excitement about Okami, a PS2 classic, coming to Playstation Network this Fall in the US. Although I am largely ambivalent about HD remakes of games, my joy is derived from the chance of experiencing the game easily on my 55" TV without hooking up the PS2 through the AV inputs.

For those who have not played the original, you have much to look forward to. Okami brings a lot to the table, starting with gorgeous visuals. Every second of this game plays out with unique cel-shaded animation, emulating sumi-e drawings on rice paper. The core of the gameplay is a lot like Legend of Zelda in nearly every way. As Amaterasu, the white wolf, you explore a land the opens itself up to you further each time you finish a dungeon and receive a new ability of item. Sound familiar? I failed to mention that when you receive special items, musical fanfare plays while the object floats and rotates above your head. Beyond this, however, is a game that manages to stand strongly on its own despite the comparisons.

Even the white wolf needs a moment to take in the beautiful surroundings.

The draw (pun-intended) of the gameplay is the ability to use Celestial Brush techniques, which Amaterasu uses to command nature. While holding down a trigger button, the screen will flatten out like a piece of drawing paper, and the player can paint magical symbols to perform these godly acts. It is rare that a game will justify its beautiful visuals and style by incorporating it into the gameplay as Okami does. That is not all the magic to be witnessed, however. The story is an intricately woven interpretation of Japanese mythology, and all the characters you meet during and outside of the main quest are culled directly from this rich folklore. The end result is a magical tale full of endearing people and creatures, who will charm you straight through to the end of the game.

There is candy inside.

There is much more to be said about the game, but I will reserve that for an official review once the game is released on PSN. Along with the updated HD visuals, the game will feature trophy support for the completionists out there. I do not yet know of any other additional features, but the game itself is its own reward. For a proposed price of $19.99, it is hard to imagine that any buyer could go wrong. We will see. Right now, take my word on the original game until I can vouch for what is to come. For all I know, Capcom replaced the Celestial Brush with a walkie-talkie.

Okami images taken from GameInformer.com.

Mass Effect 3 DLC: Extended Cut Review

A glimpse at what could have been softens the original blow.

When I originally finished Mass Effect 3, it was about a week after the rage started about the ending. I had no idea what to expect, but I managed to make it to the end without any spoilers. I will also grant you, the reading audience, the same courtesy. There will be a spoiler break where you can cut off and go back to your spoiler-free realm and drink spoiler-free beverages.

I initially thought the ending was good, but I could see where people had problems with it. As time went by – maybe a day – I realized the ending was disappointing. That said, I was not on the ending revision bandwagon. While I do think the creators of a product owe quality to their consumers, and the ending definitely was not consistent in quality with the rest of the story, I could not summon the ill will towards BioWare that many people were feeling. The fact is, Mass Effect, as a whole, is an amazing series of games. They are a lot of fun, and you meet so many wonderful and memorable characters along your adventure that you will genuinely care about almost all of them. The ending sequence and following cutscenes were subpar, but whether you have played the game or are thinking about it, I can assure you that the entirety of Mass Effect 3 is the ending to the series. You get so much closure on almost every open topic brought up within the Mass Effect universe that the disappointing last 15 minutes should not be permitted to taint what is such a quality experience. Naysayers may contend that there were also some gameplay features which did not meet the quality of the first two games, but I honestly think they were nitpicking. There is so much rewarding content in the final entry in the series that I did not feel anything lacking.

I could have handled a sad ending; I could have handled a major character dying if it was executed well. However, whether all of Earth lives or dies, the ending  BioWare offered was not executed well. The biggest problem is a giant rabbit as big as the universe being pulled out of a hat, and in turn, it makes almost everyone act out of character. Then, it's over. There are so many huge questions left to ask about what you just witnessed, and  BioWare responded to their fans claiming that they had no idea we would want something more.

What?!

Regardless of the fact that the game serves as the ending itself, it is not such an ambitious leap of thought to think that the people who spent upwards of $180 to play all three games, excluding DLC, would want

1. A long, satisfying ending sequence that sufficiently wraps up storylines without creating new ones.
2. For the ending not to offer events in which characters act contrary to their personalities or where the rules of the universe you created are disbanded for the sake of wrapping up.
3. Some kind of acknowledgement for being a paragon or a renegade throughout your play experience.
4. A big party.

Lo, the fans did not receive any of these things. Well, some received what they wanted. People who enjoyed what the original ending had to offer are more than entitled to think so. With expectations set so high, it is understandable that not everyone will be pleased. However, I do not think it is hard to imagine where people started having problems with what they were being fed.

Moving on, BioWare responded with a compromise: they were going to offer up more closure and fill in plot holes, but in acknowledgement of their great effort being offered completely free, the core of how the game ends would not be changed. Before playing, I knew I could accept this. They went above and beyond to please more fans, in my opinion, and they were entitled to not have to undo everything they worked hard on. It did mean keeping the giant rabbit, but all of his little furry friends were put back in their cages one way or another.

Back to the point of this unintentional word dump, does the Extended Cut makes things better? I can say, "Yes," without hesitation. Despite what I would argue is the silliest of concepts to maintain, the extras offered in this ending serve to soften the blow of what used to be an utter disappointment. There are still going to be people who played the original ending and are left disillusioned. To some, the arrow hit their hearts already, and BioWare is only dressing the wound. You will either acknowledge the effort they put into the Extended Cut, or you won't, and I obviously will not sway you either way. Still, if you have not yet finished the game, I am happy to let you know that what you will experience will not be perfect, but you will not feel the rage. You can continue (or start) playing, and I feel you will enjoy what they've given you.

As far as what they have provided, there are a number of additions. For the most confusing parts of the original ending, especially those regarding the rabbit (I promise it is not a real rabbit), they added a ton of new dialogue that makes it easier to understand and/or swallow. And if you do not want to take it as it is, they have even given you a new option to utterly reject it. I did not experiment with this option, but I know it made some people feel better. Along with the dialogue, the ending features extremely important new engine and pre-rendered sequences, which offer plausible explanations for the character and universe-defying events of the original.  What is still disappointing is that they did all this work, but they opted to throw in motion comic-style animations for the first time in the entire series. I am not sure how the decision was made, but it does not take much away from the overall better quality of the Extended Cut DLC.

While I am happy BioWare decided to respond to the outcry over the original ending to Mass Effect 3, I am cautious about the precedent this may have created. If enough people don't like something about a future game, will it just take the rallying cries of a disheartened populous to make a developer spend a lot of extra time and money to please them? Sure, this was the ending to a revered series of games with a rich lore spanning comics and novels, too, but what will stop the villagers from lighting their torches over something arguably petty? So kudos to BioWare for placating a section of their fan base, but I think they should stop there.

No images provided because there aren't any!

Spoiler City Limits
There are spoilers living beyond this line.