Monday, January 21, 2013

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.


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.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

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.