Last year, I didn't want a 3DS. Nintendo's latest handheld had just limped out of the gate like a three-legged burro with gout, and unimpressed me with its exorbitant price point, impotent battery life and meagre catalogue of compelling games.

The bad news is that the battery life hasn't changed, still clocking in at three to five hours depending on brightness and 3D-intensity. I'm happy to say, though, that my other inhibitions have subsided since last April, when I first wrote about them, and I find myself craving a 3DS more and more every day.

What a difference a year makes. When the 3DS dropped in March 2011, it did so alongside very few 'must-have' games, with Super Street Fighter IV 3D Edition taking the trophy for the best of the system's launch titles. It took months for the system's most-anticipated games to hit shelves, and even then they were largely ports of games released more than ten years ago: Star Fox 64 3D, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D, and so forth.

Even if I did feel like trying out Steel Diver or Pilotwings Resort, the cost of entry was far too great. The 3DS launched at a huge $249.99 in the US, one of the most expensive handheld gaming platforms this side of the iPad. The price point was baffling; the system hardly had any noteworthy tech notwithstanding glasses-free 3D - something that portable gamers weren't exactly clamouring for - and Nintendo had either the arrogance or the cluelessness to mark it $30 above the cost of an iPod Touch, a device in direct competition with the 3DS and possessing significantly more versatile functionality: games, videos, music, and a swanky swipe motion to unlock it.

I was torn at the time. Here I was, former portable gaming junkie, deliberately sitting out the launch of a new Nintendo handheld. I tried coaxing myself into making the purchase, building cases for why I should put down my hard-earned coin for Nintendo's new console.

I couldn't do it.

I vowed instead to wait until the big N got their act together and made me want their system.

How fortunate that Nintendo seemed to come round as the year went on. Perhaps sensing the antipathy towards their new baby, Nintendo issued a massive price-cut made effective on 11th August, 2011, which reduced the cost to $169.99, chopping nearly a third off of the fledgling system's MSRP. The move looked drastic, and some in the media took it as a sign of Nintendo flailing to prevent their new ship from sinking. The move worked, though, with Japanese sales surging during the week of the price-cut and American figures following suit.

It wasn't enough for the price to drop, though. The 3DS's sudden increase in affordability did nothing to soften my resolve, because there weren't any games I actually wanted to play on the thing. It was about this time, though, that a new wave of games started hitting the 3DS. Good, high-quality games that actually interested me, rather than the "Dead Space: Extraction is actually fun if you like lightgun games" malarkey of before. Everyone on Twitter went nuts about Super Mario 3D Land, and I started having vivid fantasies of how much fun Mario Kart 7 would be whilst on the road (may this be the only time that I use the words "vivid fantasy" and "Mario Kart" in the same sentence). Several other non-Nintendo gems caught my attention as well: a port of acclaimed side-scroller Cave Story here, a remixed entry in the Shin Megami Tensei series there, and a brand new, worthwhile Resident Evil game, all had me looking on in envy at the fun I was missing.

Then came the breaking point. I'll always remember when my attitude towards the 3DS shifted from "wait and see" to "I must have this system now." I was having a pleasant, relaxed Sunday, lounging about at home, when I heard five special words that changed my life:

"New Super Mario Bros. 2"

Boom. That was all it took. New Super Mario Bros. was one of my favourite games for the original DS, and the prospect of playing through another 2D Mario game was simply too enticing to pass up. I kept biding my time and looking for a reason to open my heart to the 3DS, and the announcement of New Super Mario Bros. 2 triggered something like a time-lapse shot of a sunflower blooming in my chest.

After a year, I can finally accept the 3DS as a thing I want, and it feels damn good. True, the battery life still sucks, but I can get used to charging my gaming systems once a day; I did the same with my mobile phone. Nintendo's portable efforts are finally relevant to me again, and it's like welcoming back a prodigal son. I'll hold off buying a 3DS until after E3, just in case Nintendo decides to announce a hardware redesign, but the fact that I'm planning to buy it at all speaks volumes about how Nintendo can turn around an unfavourable situation.

Labels: 3D gaming, Andrew Testerman, Nintendo, Nintendo 3DS

Last December, Destructoid’s Jim Sterling broke the story that Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning would feature a seven-part quest line, hidden behind an online pass.

Sterling called the practice "slimy and unjustified" on his personal Twitter account, and the topic quickly became a hot-button subject amongst savvy internet-dwellers wishing to offer their tuppenceworth on EA's new favourite money-making strategy. Part of the anger stemmed from the fact that Kingdoms of Amalur’s online code was restricting access to single-player content already on the disc, instead of online content, like previous games with EA Online Passes.

This is not the first time this year that a kerfuffle has been raised over single-player content restrictions. Last September, Warner Bros. Interactive and Rocksteady Studios came under fire when they sealed off several playable sections of Batman: Arkham City featuring Catwoman behind an unlock code. The move came under fire from users who felt they were being cheated out of the full experience, especially from the perspective of gamers who may not have an internet connection for their console, or anyone who might try to buy the game used.

Unfortunately, online passes are likely here to stay, especially seeing as publishers are trying their utmost to head off used-game sales. What started as a justification to recover operating costs for online servers has turned into yet another way for EA to coax a little more money out of its customers. And, beyond EA and Warner, THQ has also used online passes for Homefront and both of its UFC games, whilst Activision has as yet chosen not to follow the online pass route.

A hefty amount of digital ink has already been spilled on the subject of online passes, forming everything from reasonable discourse to righteous indignation. Some see online passes as a regrettable but understandable business decision, a reasonable push-back against used-game sales. Others feel they punish a significant part of their consumer base, and provide gamers with a worse experience; after all, typing in a new code every time one buys a new game gets very old, very quickly.

On a side note, I’m not certain that used-game sales cut into profits quite so much as publishers say they are, but I bet the fact that one of the world’s largest game retailers depends so heavily on used games sales doesn’t help.

I used to be reasonably tolerant of online passes; as a gamer who tries to purchase new games and support developers, rather than retailers, it didn’t affect me too heavily. Most of the games using online passes were sports games: the likes of Madden and FIFA, games I wouldn’t usually play but would likely purchase new if I did - new rosters, after all. However, online pass implementation has become much more ubiquitous - and, one could argue, much more stupid - in recent months. Entering each new code becomes more tedious every time, and the content hidden behind these codes has grown from bonus, thank-you-for-playing content to important, central portions of the game as a whole.

Perhaps my worst experience with online passes came when I rented Battlefield 3, for what was supposed to be a review. I ploughed through the campaign in one five-hour session (my preferred method for tight, focussed FPS campaigns), and after watching the credits roll, I sat down for a few rounds of multiplayer, excited to spend more time with one of my favourite online series in recent years. Instead, I was greeted with a screen that told me I needed to buy a brand new copy of the game in order to try the multiplayer at all.

I was shocked. Not only was the game depriving me access to arguably the reason to purchase Battlefield 3, but it wouldn’t even let me try it out and decide if it was right for me. Rather than spend an extra ten dollars on top of the eight dollar rental, I returned the game, frustrated and unsatisfied - at least online sports games like Madden allowed a seven-day free trial for online modes. And the sad thing is, I decided not to purchase Battlefield 3 in the end, because I wasn’t sure whether I’d enjoy the multiplayer; without an adequate chance to sample it, the purchase became too great a risk, and caused me not to follow through.

On the other hand, I can understand why publishers use online passes, despite how much they're inarguably awful. 38 Games' Curt Schilling recently talked about why they chose to implement their 'day-one DLC', saying that, as a new series in a crowded market, they wanted to stand out and provide extra content to gamers who would buy it new; after all, if they don’t sell enough copies, the studio may not be around long enough to deliver a sophomore effort.

To me, it really comes down to expectation. Amalur is an absolutely massive game, and as sucky as it is to miss out on a seven-quest cycle, there’s still a huge amount of content already available for playing. In terms of Batman: Arkham City and its infamous gated content, I rented the game shortly after it came out, and during the time I played it, not once did I feel ripped-off for not being allowed to experience Catwoman’s sections. Batman’s main storyline was so fun and well-paced, I never felt like anything was missing from the experience, making Catwoman’s sections truly feel like 'bonus' content.

Perception is also a big part of this discussion. There are those who feel that, because both Catwoman and the seven-part quest are on the disc, they should be available right out of the box, lest the experience be otherwise 'incomplete'. Yet, for some reason, removing the content from the disc and forcing players to download it through Xbox Live or PSN seems to make it okay. Perhaps we’re all hardwired to expect a more 'transactional' feel when purchasing digital items, and the physical distance the data travels and the time needed to acquire it perhaps make the content more worth the money than if it were simply unlocked from the disc. For me, if the experience feels complete (like in the case of Batman), anything extra is worth the extra money.

A similar situation happened last year with Gears of War 3, when Epic revealed that their game had a good amount of on-the-disc DLC. Their justification? They had already drawn up and followed a projected budget for the main content (single-player campaign, multiplayer, co-op, etc.), and the DLC followed a separate budget, making both sets of content two different sets of costs. The $60 purchase covered the main game’s budget, while the on-the-disc purchases would cover the cost to design, develop and test the DLC.

Also - and this makes me part of the problem - I would much rather have buy-new incentives that are actually worth ponying up the money for. Remember the Cerberus Network, EA’s free-DLC service from Mass Effect 2? Remember how awesome your new equipment was, and how engaging your new party felt? Of course not; they were all terrible. If I’m resigned to expect extra content from buying a game brand new, that content had better be worth the money I spent over buying it used. There’s a thin line between withholding content that’s worthwhile and keeping players from experiencing the game to the fullest, but the latter feels so much more satisfying than discovering your 'bonus content' was an extra pea-shooter and two differently-coloured T-shirts.

I’m not trying to be an online pass apologist; they add new layers of difficulty to customer experiences, and they could easily lead to a slippery slope of paying for even greater and greater chunks of content. Still, I know there’s a middle-ground that can be attained, in rewarding players who buy new without penalising those who buy games used, and hopefully developers can find that happy medium in the future. In the meantime, let’s get back to complaining about something that is really irritating. Like pre-order DLC.

Labels: 38 Studios, Andrew Testerman, Batman: Arkham City, EA, Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning, Online Passes, Opinion, PlayStation 3, PSN, Warner Bros., Xbox 360, Xbox LIVE

After numerous delays, Max Payne 3 is almost here.

During the course of development, Rockstar Vancouver's latest third-person action game saw many hardships, the likes of which would even make their eponymous detective pause. But Max is finally ready to shoot and dodge his way back into the limelight. Rockstar allowed us to get a glimpse of the game behind closed doors at PAX East, and what I saw gave me hope for the return of Max Payne.

We were shown two levels, each from different sections of the game. The first was set in a grimy Manhattan bar under attack by gang members, with Max having to fight his way through shot-up pool halls and walk-in freezers. The second took place in São Paulo, Brazil, and saw Max surviving an ambush at a baseball stadium, aided by an ally behind a sniper rifle.

What separates Max Payne 3 from the myriad other shooters is its stylish use of bullet time. The player can slow the action down by clicking the analogue stick, or by performing slow motion 'shoot dodges', John Woo-esque leaps of fancy that add mobility to firefights. Bullet time uses adrenalin, which Max gains by executing headshots or taking damage. Combined with solid shooting mechanics, Max Payne 3's use of bullet time turns every gun battle into a pageant of blood and bullets.

Max has lost none of his abilities for acrobatic gunplay, and part of Max Payne 3's challenge is to find the best moments to use bullet time.

Rockstar Vancouver has also made several canny additions to the Max Payne formula. New to the series is a cover system, allowing Max to hunker down behind obstacles to avoid enemy fire. Also new is an optional aim-assist, similar to those found in many current shooters, helping players to zero in on enemies for adrenalin-gaining headshots.

One of Max Payne 3's biggest departures from modern shooting conventions, though, is its lack of a health-regeneration system. Instead, players must find and use painkillers to regain Max's lost stamina. Painkillers also lend themselves to another new mechanic: when mortally wounded by an enemy, players can take out the enemy who dealt them the killing blow and gain their life back, in exchange for a painkiller.

Good thing, too, because Max Payne 3 is challenging even at medium difficulty. Max was constantly outnumbered during both levels I played - particularly in the baseball stadium, which takes place later in the game - and playing without regenerating health adds a dangerous rhythm to gameplay different from other contemporary shooters. Every gunfight is tense and deadly, and feels great. As a quick aside, I would recommend playing with the auto-aim turned off; with it on, I found my aiming reticule targeting enemies in ways I didn't necessarily expect. The auto-aim doesn't necessarily drag the game down, but it's far from the optimal way to play Max Payne 3, a game in which the satisfaction of manually lining up headshots, mid-jump, feels incredibly satisfying.

Though much of the game takes place in São Paulo, players also control Max during his earlier life in New York.

Like other current Rockstar games, Max Payne 3 is built upon the Rage engine, used in games like Grand Theft Auto IV and Red Dead Redemption. Max's movements are initially a bit wide and hefty, but I assimilated after a few minutes of play. Rockstar has always trotted out stellar voice acting in its games, and Max Payne 3 continues the trend. During gameplay, Max's internal monologue helps to establish the setting and tone of what's happening, and other characters toss out their lines with natural-sounding aplomb, a welcome change from other poorly-voiced games on the market. The series' signature comic-book cinematics are MIA, but they are given a nod in Max Payne 3's in-game cutscenes, which possess small stylistic changes and use split-screen in a way that suggests comic book panels, though they did remind me of the commercials for Grant Theft Auto: Vice City.

Max has been in deep cover for a long time, but the wait appears to have been worth it. Max Payne 3 looks to join Rockstar's increasingly-long list of epic May releases in just a few short weeks, hitting Xbox 360, PlayStation 3 and PC.

Labels: Andrew Testerman, Max Payne 3, PAX East, PlayStation 3, Rockstar, Rockstar Vancouver, Xbox 360

Contemporary pop culture likes to portray pirates as a bunch of fun-loving, drunken scallywags, prone to a life of adventure on the high seas, drinking, looting and choruses of "We Arrr Who We Arrr".

Octane Games, however, is about to give gamers an entirely new impression of life as naval criminals. Raven's Cry, Octane's latest third-person action game, is to pirate fiction what Game of Thrones was to fantasy; it delves deep into the several gory, unsavoury aspects of pirate life. The lovely people from Topware Interactive walked us through a demo at PAX East.

The game's protagonist ('good guy' is far too strong a word) is Christopher Raven, a man who, as a child, saw his village pillaged by pirates, leaving him missing a hand and thirsting for vengeance against the ones responsible. Storytelling alternates between in-engine cutscenes of the present day and 2D-motion comics showing Raven's past, creating a visual distinction between the two time periods.

The demo took place in Port Royal, a Caribbean harbour town teaming with pirates. True to the game's mission statement, Port Royal is a rougher neighbourhood than its portrayal in certain Disney theme park rides, with plague-ridden sailors and prostitutes slogging through the muddy streets. After walking down several dingy alleys, Raven ran into three thugs looking to collect the price on his head, forcing him to draw his sword and deal with the curs.

There's a very good chance that, were Johnny Depp to set foot in Raven's Cry's rendition Port Royal, he would be shivved on the spot.

Combat primarily uses mêlée weapons like cutlasses and sabres, with Raven attacking enemies one-on-one. Raven also had access to a pistol, but true to 17th-century firearms, each pistol possesses only one shot, and TopWare views them as more of an expendable resource rather than a primary weapon, similar to grenades in first-person shooters. TopWare also mentioned the use of voodoo charms, another facet of 17th century Caribbean life, but the specifics aren't nailed down yet.

After slicing through pirate scum, Raven enters the bar and accosts an old sea captain drowning in drink. Here, the game shows off its branching dialogue system, though don't expect to min-max 'good' or 'bad' decisions like in other games. For instance, we were presented with the option to threaten the old codger with either a gun or a knife. We opted for the knife, and Raven promptly stabbed the guy's hand through the table in order to loosen his tongue.

No matter what happens, it isn't going to be good for the bloke on the left.

Our captive eventually cracked and told us what we wanted to know, after which we were given an option to either let him go or 'deal' with him then and there. We choose to deal with him, and Raven lit the alcohol-soaked bum on fire. The reps from TopWare told us that the branching dialogue options would allow for long-reaching decisions, and not always with 'good' or 'bad' consequences; if we had chosen to let the wounded captain run free, he may have come after us with a posse later in the game. These decisions feel like a welcome break from game design where 'moral choice' often means 'make the proper decision' or 'act like an asshole.'

TopWare saw success with last year's Two Worlds II, and they hope to continue the streak with Raven's Cry. Though no official release date has been announced, Raven's Cry will shiver timbers everywhere when it launches on Xbox 360, PlayStation 3 and PC during the latter half of 2012.

Labels: Andrew Testerman, Octane Games, PAX East, Raven's Cry, TopWare Interactive

From the event's outset, PAX has been known for its friendliness towards tabletop gaming.

Whether it's played on a board, through collectable cards or with pen and paper, PAX has long been a bastion for table-toppers of all sorts. This year's PAX East had several tabletop announcements, and we were on-hand to catch the latest from some of the biggest names in games.

Cryptozoic

Cryptozoic is a relative newcomer to the tabletop gaming space, but they have since gained notoriety through board games based on licences such as Penny Arcade. One one of their newest games is The Walking Dead, based on the popular AMC TV series. The Walking Dead can be played with up to six players as they make their way around the board, picking up encounter cards and fending off hordes of undead. One noteworthy mechanic is the ability for players claimed by zombies to become Walkers themselves and try to take down the remaining survivors. It can also be played solo, playing against the cards the game deals them. The Walking Dead is available for purchase now.

Cryptozoic also owns the rights to the World of Warcraft Trading Card Game, which is gearing up for its seventeenth expansion, Aftermath: Tomb of the Forgotten. As with previous expansions, Tomb of the Forgotten integrates several mechanics from the online game, and boosters sometimes contain loot cards, which can translate to an in-game item or even a rare mount. Look for Aftermath: Tomb of the Forgotten, due to hit shelves this summer.

Magic: The Gathering

Wizards of the Coast made several announcements regarding the popular collectable card game and this year's Core Set. Core Set 2013 will be a compilation of new cards and past favorites, similar to previous Core Sets, making it an ideal place for new Magic: The Gathering players to start, as well as a history lesson for players who haven't been playing since the early '90s. More than just Booster Packs, Core Set 2013 also includes Intro Packs for newer players, Toolkits for deck building, and Event Decks for players looking to get competitive quickly. On the videogame end, Wizards of the Coast announced Duel of the Planeswalkers 2013, a new entry in Stainless Games' popular digital version of the card game. Duel 2013 will feature ten new decks, more puzzle challenges, a new multiplayer mode called Planechase, and several other tweaks like optional Mana tapping. Additionally, Duel 2013 will be the first in the series to be playable on the iPad, letting players summon creatures and cast instants on the go for the first time.

Expect both Magic: The Gathering 2013 Core Set and Duel of the Planeswalkers to release later this summer.

Dungeons & Dragons

Wizards of the Coast also announced a new campaign for arguably their most popular property, Dungeons & Dragons, with Rise of the Underdark. Set to take place across multiple tabletop expansions, novels and videogames, Rise of the Underdark tasks players from stopping Lolth, a spider queen who aims to become a goddess of magic. This means taking the action to Lolth's home turf of the Underdark, a vast cavernous expanse below the surface, teeming with drow, mindflayers and all sorts of fell nasties.

In addition to new dungeons, feats and weapons, Rise of the Underdark will allow participants to adapt the ways of the drow and attempt to win through back-stabbing subterfuge between other players. Devious DMs will find the Underdark prime real-estate for challenging their regular groups, and the campaign will only continue to evolve as the year goes on.

Look to pick up the campaign's debut, Web of the Spider Queen, in hobby stores on May 16.

Labels: Andrew Testerman, Cryptozoic Entertainment, Dungeons and Dragons, Magic: The Gathering - Duel of the Planeswalkers, Tabletop gaming, Wizards of the Coast

This year looks to be great for action-oriented MMOs, and TERA is fixing things to make it even better.

We've already covered at least one hack-y, slash-y MMO from PAX, but while RaiderZ is all about tracking and hunting monsters, TERA adheres more closely to traditional MMO paradigms. That isn't to say that it's not incredibly fun, though.

Gamer's Guide to Life.com got a chance to check out one high-level raid encounter whilst at PAX East, and we came away impressed with what TERA had to offer.

TERA developer interview

TERA's combat is structured similarly to an action game rather than a traditional MMO, with nary an auto-attack to be found. Players can rely on their mobility to dodge enemy strikes or block them outright, and boss encounters play like something from a console brawler, with attack patterns and telegraphed special moves. This emphasis on reflex-testing mechanics guarantees that players will have to pay attention during combat, rather than faceroll through every encounter.

During the raid, I played as a Slayer, a mêlée DPS class with a sword so huge that it would make War from Darksiders jealous. The Slayer's special moves were tied to his MP, which replenished through taking damage and executing regular attacks, creating a fun strategy of alternating between special and normal attacks in order to maximise the punishment dealt out.

The Slayer's special moves helped highlight TERA's action-combat system. Far from the usual park-and-honk attack delivery seen in other MMOs, the Slayer's moves looked like something out of Devil May Cry, jumping and flipping all over the place with his sword swinging wildly through the air. I also had access to a Scorpion-like hook for pulling in enemies for further beatings, as well as a wind-up baseball swing for knocking down enemies.

Our raid started fairly low-key, with our path being filled with what the reps from En Masse Entertainment called 'warm-up monsters', designed to get players acclimatised to the area. After carving through so much digital chum, though, we started pulling larger and more heavy-hitting creatures, giving me an opportunity to dive into the Slayer's attack rhythms and strategies. Fortunately, with Slayers, the game offers easy combo-like rotations, and flashes button prompts of which move to follow-up with for further face-wrecking. I eventually settled into a nice rotation of dashing at an enemy, knocking it down, then performing a few jump-slashes on its hapless carcass. Bluehole even included support for Xbox 360 gamepads, which I used for our raid, and they gave TERA further resemblance to a console action game, rather than a straight-up MMO.

We didn't get to see much other than our raid, but I had a blast going God of War on trash mobs, and if the rest of the game is as compelling as the combat system, I may have to give the full release a shot.

TERA launches on 1 May in North America and 3 May in Europe.

Labels: Andrew Testerman, Bluehole Studio, En Masse Entertainment, PC, TERA

Now here's a kid whose whole world got all twisted, leaving him stranded on a rock in the sky. He gets up. Sets off for the Bastion. Where everyone agreed to go in case of trouble.

Earlier this week, I finally finished Bastion, indie-developer Supergiant Games' much-loved action-RPG for Xbox Live Arcade and PC. Bastion's minimalistic storytelling, Diablo-style look and upgrade system, and fun, varied action mechanics made it a great hit with me, but one element of Bastion stands above the others: how alone and isolated an experience it is.

More than any game I've ever experienced, Bastion conveyed a sense of loneliness that ran through the whole mood of the game, and took an above-average, fun action-RPG game and turned it into one of my standout titles of 2011. The game uses several tricks to accomplish its bleak, deserted atmosphere, and each is worthy of consideration from other developers.

The Wild Unknown. Place can eat a man alive. Place is so raw, even the Calamity couldn't cook it. Not all of it.

Throughout Bastion, the game's protagonist, The Kid, is all alone, accompanied only by his wits and his weapons. I've experienced games that present you with a pressing sense of loneliness, having played through my fair share of Metroid games, and Bastion's sense of isolation is up there with the best of them. Its colourful art style and stylised monster designs give the game an other-worldly feel, and the atypical visuals add to the sensation that The Kid isn't in Kansas anymore.


Whilst exploring, The Kid traverses through the ruins of Caelondia and Ura, two nations that were at war before they were destroyed by a cataclysmic disaster known as The Calamity. Little titbits of Caelondian culture are scattered throughout the journey, and slowly you will discover how certain areas functioned before The Calamity struck, or learn about the various religious practices performed by the people before everyone was wiped out. The effect is similar to the opening scene in the film 28 Days Later, when the protagonist wanders through the deserted streets of London trying to figure out what happened. The details about the world you find yourself traversing, coupled with the lack of inhabitants, help drive home how alone The Kid really is.

There the kid hears something he ain't heard in a long while.
How's it go again....?
Yeah.... that's the one.

Perhaps my favourite element that Bastion uses to convey loneliness is its music. The soundtrack blends electronic and hip-hop elements with acoustic and electric guitar, with a composition that aims for an Old West, Frontier-esque feel, and leaves you with the impression that The Kid is wandering through a feral world, surviving by his own wiles, much like the classic Western heroes of old. In a way, he is.


Yet, even more than conveying an impression of the untamed West, the music hints at a sense of emptiness and an absence of hope. Many of Bastion's songs have a bluesy structure to them, or are sparse in their instrumentation, conveying a sense of sadness and emptiness, and making you, the player, feel as if you're the only one you can trust amidst the desolation.

Now the Kid sees something stranger still. His mind races. Did anybody else survive? Sure enough, he finds another. He finds me.

Nearly as enjoyable as the music is Rucks, the narrator. As The Kid slashes, shoots, and scrapes his way through the ruins of Caelondia, Rucks provides a running, second-hand commentary on the action. Rucks' sparse, fragmented speaking-pattern describes The Kid's actions at arm's length, always talking of the action in an active voice, but never becoming more involved than a basic description. Rucks talks about The Kid as though he weren't even there, turning a potential spot for camaraderie into another distancing element. Listening to Rucks calmly describe the monsters and their motivation amidst heated combat creates a chilly sense of separation.


It is this distancing element that provides the game with its most striking moment. Whilst exploring one area, around three to four hours into his journey, The Kid hears a sole acoustic guitar and a haunting, carrying voice. It's the only other voice heard in the game, and it belongs to Zia, a woman born of foreign soil whose only companion is her music. The sound of another voice, especially after so much time listening to only one person speak, is striking, and creates a near-instance feeling of kinship towards Zia, similar to how The Kid must feel to see another survivor of The Calamity.

Don't you worry, though. Once the Bastion is restored, everything'll be alright.

Bastion is one of the most remarkable games of 2011, full of unique story-telling, compelling action-RPG mechanics and a soundtrack that needs to be heard to be believed. However, my favourite - and possibly the best - aspect of the game is how isolated it made me feel, and how well it cast me as a lone adventurer. Many games have set me up me as the world's sole saviour before, but only Bastion makes me feel how 'sole' I really am.

Labels: Andrew Testerman, Bastion, Feature, Steam, Supergiant Games, Xbox 360

Back in January, Square Enix released Final Fantasy XIII-2, a follow-up to Square’s most recent (and, in some circles, controversial) entry in the long-running JRPG series.

Reviews of the game have ranged from lukewarm to rather positive, but many of the critiques boil down to the same thing: the combat and gameplay are fun, but the story is awful.

For the unaware, the story is a direct continuation of XIII’s narrative. XIII-2 follows Serah, sister of the first game’s protagonist, and Noel, a time-travelling soldier who was sent back to avert a global apocalypse sometime in the future. Ignoring the prominent Terminator parallels, XIII-2’s story entails Serah and Noel travelling to different points in time, defeating dimension-shifting 'paradox' monsters and engaging in stilted, 'stylised' dialogue that wouldn't fly in a remedial script-writing class. XIII-2’s jargon-heavy world doesn’t try especially hard to welcome new players into the fold (though, to be fair, it is a direct sequel), and the melodramatic character interaction only further obfuscate the tale.

How far JRPGs have fallen in the past decade or so. Once the fore of storytelling in gaming, JRPGs are now bringing up the rear, with even the most highly-praised stories carrying an almost apologetic level of explanations and qualifications. Meanwhile, gamers are finding compelling plots and engaging characters in even the most action-packed genres.

It didn’t always used to be this way. Back in earlier days of gaming (by my watch, right up through the SNES), players more or less had to choose whether they wanted action or story. Platformers like Super Mario World or Donkey Kong Country were exciting and fun to traverse through, but they weren’t exactly go-to games for players looking for an emotional, involving experience. Conversely, RPGs didn’t offer thrill-a-minute gameplay like their platforming and shooting console-mates, but instead gave gamers characters, story arcs and more cerebral thrills than seeing how many coins they could collect before the end stage.

Now, in 2012, the wall between visceral action and involving story has been completely broken down (though not entirely removed). Games like BioShock and Assassin’s Creed are giving gamers compelling plots and engaging characters while still providing twitchy, fast-paced action. Meanwhile, games like Final Fantasy or Star Ocean, representing a genre once synonymous with storytelling, offer players staid, clichéd narratives and cardboard-cut-out characters. It’s all a bit backwards, really.

There are many potential discussions about what RPGs still have to offer the gaming world now (or, for that matter, what even qualifies as an RPG anymore, what with every game nowadays having some sort of XP system), but today we’re limiting it to JRPGs and their stories. Why do JRPG stories fail to hit, and what can be done to get the genre back on track?

I’ve held a pet theory about JRPG storytelling for a while now, and Final Fantasy XIII-2 helped to solidify it (funnily enough, it was Final Fantasy XIII that helped me form it in the first place). Back in the NES and SNES days, developers didn’t have the technological prowess to tell the stories they had in mind, one-to-one; instead, they needed to make concessions based on the technology available, both in terms of what could be displayed onscreen, and what their characters could say.

This creativity through limitation led to some of gaming’s most beloved titles: Final Fantasy VI; Secret of Mana; Chrono Trigger. Each of those games had a weighty, complex story, and the technological ceilings of the Super NES made it necessary that each story be told as cleanly as possible. Rather than tell it in the manner of a movie or television series, game directors and producers adopted a new kind of storytelling specifically for video games, one whose episodic, overarching structure most closely resembled a novel. This style helped present mature themes like suicide, addiction and death in an understated way that was simple enough to avoid melodrama, but focussed enough to avoid dulling their impact.

All this changed with the release of Final Fantasy VII. With the added hardware of the PlayStation, many restrictions imposed by the NES and SNES were lifted, letting directors and producers create games that adhered even closer to their creative visions. Players could explore even more expansive worlds, and characters could express themselves on even greater levels, with better animations and dialogue than ever before. Directors could tell exactly the story they wanted to tell, exactly the way they wanted to tell it.

It’s unfortunate, then, that the results have been so alienating. With the aforementioned hardware restrictions, game designers were forced to leave the Japanese-only sensibilities of their storytelling at the door, and instead created stories with broader, more universal themes.

Nowadays, traditional JRPGs are completely and totally steeped in Japanese storytelling conventions; the kind that are nigh-inscrutable to everyone but the most ardent Japan apologists and actual native-Japanese folk. In their desire to replicate their precise storytelling vision, game creators are able to emulate their favourite torrid Korean soap opera down to the most exact detail, leaving the non-Korean-soap-opera fans in the dark about the game’s appeal at all.

It’s not that JRPGs need to ape Western themes, or conform to a traditionally-Western idea of a game story. Chrono Trigger, my favourite game of all time, had an extremely strange story, involving a sentient robot, a talking frog and a cave woman fighting to save the world from a space parasite. Yet, the game’s story was — and still is — highly praised, not for its particulars but for its execution. Chrono Trigger painted its characters and story decisions in articulate, simple strokes, letting players meet the game halfway and invest themselves in its tale. For such ridiculous material, it had a pronounced level of subtlety and reservation (again, no doubt brought on by the SNES's limitations). It was broad, but sincere, and didn’t become caught up in trying to oversell itself.

Of course, it isn't as though top-tier JRPGs are in danger of becoming extinct. Quality JRPGs are still being made today, like Atlus’ Radiant Historia, a JRPG that, by all accounts, displays the exact same control and maturity that its 16-bit predecessors did. Perhaps it’s just a coincidence, then, that the most highly-praised traditional JRPG in years was released for the DS, a system with only slightly less hardware restraints than the SNES. Perhaps DS developers know something that console devs don’t?

Ultimately, if JRPGs are to dig themselves out of their current hole, they need to concentrate on what made them popular in the first place: storytelling. Not just Japanese storytelling, but storytelling that even JRPG neophytes can get wrapped up in. I’m not saying that publishers like Atlus should ditch such delightful J-games like Disgaea or the Atelier series, but I do think there should be room for both. Strong characters and compelling storytelling transcend cultures. JRPGs have since gained ground in terms of play mechanics, with games like Tales of Vesperia and Final Fantasy XIII-2 offering gameplay thrills on the level of the industry’s best. All they need to do is remember what they did better than any genre in gaming.

Watching JRPGs lose their prominence in game storytelling has been painful, but I firmly believe that great games can still be made using their template; look at 2008’s Lost Odyssey, a game that used old-school RPG gameplay while creating memorable locations and characters in a new, distinct way. Game storytelling is a broad field, with no one method standing 'superior' to any of the others, and there’s no reason why gamers shouldn’t have the option to enjoy a quality JRPG story along with the Portals, Uncharteds and Call of Dutys of the industry.


Note: for an excellent read on why JRPGs don’t necessarily need a good story to succeed, check out writer Kat Bailey’s new JRPG column on Joystiq.

Labels: Andrew Testerman, Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy XIII-2, JRPG, Opinion, Radiant Historia

Ever wanted to attend PAX? While following us, did you wonder what we were seeing? What it was all like? We here at Gamer's Guide to Life have put together a little special something that showcases our entire adventure at PAX East 2012 for your viewing pleasure. SPOILERS: We try to be funny.

While our time in Boston came and went far too quickly, this epic montage of our events displays the awesome power PAX brings to the industry. Let us know what you think of the video! Also, like us on Facebook and you can look at our assortment of pictures we took.

Labels: Andrew Testerman, Andrew Whipple III, PAX East

Amid the usual greys, browns and cover mechanics of many modern games comes Quantum Conundrum, a first-person puzzle game of incredible whimsy and ingenious design.

Developed by Airtight Games and spearheaded by Kim Swift, the creative mind behind the original Portal, Quantum Conundrum is a pleasing mesh of reflexive first-person action and brain-prodding puzzle gameplay.

Players control a twelve-year-old boy who has gone to stay with his eccentric uncle, the inventor Professor Fitz Quadwrangle (what a name!). Unfortunately, the Professor Quadrangle has gone missing and it’s up to the player to find out what happened to him and bring him back.

This is easier said than done, though, because of the layout of Professor Quadrangle's house. It appears as though the good Professor got his home- and his work-life jumbled together, because his enormous mansion is brimming with strange inventions and other scientific obstructions, all of which enter into lockdown mode once the inventor uncle goes missing.

Kim Swift interview

Fortunately, players have access to Quadwrangle's best invention yet: the Interdimensional Shift Device, or I.S.D. for short. The I.S.D. grants access to new dimensions with various different abilities, each useful in progressing through the locked-down mansion. When in the Fluffy Dimension, for instance, all objects become ten times lighter and turn into adorable plushie versions of themselves, whilst in the Heavy Dimension objects become indestructible and weight significantly more than normal.

Early puzzles ask players to use only one dimension at a time, such making objects lighter and easier to transport in the Fluffy Dimension, or obstructing laser beams in the Heavy Dimension. Before long, though, the complexity begins to ramp up, and players are required to swap between more and more dimensions at a time to advance from room to room. One section I played required me to make an object light for transport, and then make it heavier in mid-throw in order to break a window.

Coincidentally, The Fluffy Dimension is also the name of our Senior Editor’s acoustic solo-project. His new album drops Tuesday next.

Quantum Conundrum's puzzles are intensely satisfying to solve. Like Portal, the early levels show just enough of the game's mechanics in action to clue players in on how to use them without spoiling the puzzles’ solutions outright, giving players an opportunity to figure out how to solve it themselves. This show-not-tell learning method allows players to actually feel smart upon completing each puzzle, rather than like they're simply going through the motions.

Graphically, Quantum Conundrum is a treat, mixing fine attention to detail with a silly, broad cartoon art style. Each environment is colourful and inviting, filled with little bits, bobs and in-jokes left strewn about. Objects in the Fluffy Dimension, for instance, are all stitched together and poof out in a jovial way, whereas objects in the Heavy Dimension develop a cruel-looking iron veneer. Even paintings on the walls of the mansion change based on which dimension they're in; in one painting I looked at, a Commander McBragg-type explorer and his tiger took on the appearance of a motorcycle gang when viewed in a certain dimension. Little Easter egg-gags like this will encourage players to snoop through each environment for hidden comic treats.

Quantum Conundrum was one of my favourite games I played at PAX East, and I absolutely cannot wait to see what the rest of the game has to offer. Look for Quantum Conundrum to hit Xbox Live Arcade, PlayStation Network and Windows PC this summer.

Labels: Airtight Games, Andrew Testerman, PAX East, Square Enix

The original Borderlands was a huge surprise back when it released back in 2009, expertly combining twitchy, satisfying FPS action with stick-and-carrot loot collection à la Diablo and Torchlight.

Here in 2012, 2K Games knows that it has a hit on its hands, and gave Borderlands 2 one of the largest booths at this year's PAX East. With so many gamers frothing at the mouths for a one-way ticket back to Pandora, will Borderlands 2 be enough to satiate diehard fans of the first entry whilst still gaining new ones? I went hands-on with the game in an attempt to find out.

Borderlands 2 interview

One of the first things noticeable when firing up Borderlands 2 is how much more polished the game looks. Whilst the original Borderlands' art style was celebrated as unique and colourful, it also sometimes gave characters and items a shallow, flat appearance. I have no such complaint with Borderlands 2; guns, enemies and environmental objects appear much more detailed than before, and the game's sheer graphical prowess practically spills off-screen and onto the carpet.

Of course, more has changed than simply the presentation. Demo players at PAX East were able to choose from two character classes: the Siren, a rogue-like character prominently featured in the first game who specialises in stealth, and the new Gunzerker, an enormous brute of a character who wields two guns at once and regenerates health—I opted for the Gunzerker. Players are given three separate skill trees to fill out with points they gain from levelling up; we received fifteen to start the demo, and I poured mine into anything that would grant larger magazines and faster reload speeds.

And all the fools who lead their foolish lives may find it quite... explosive.

Once we had chosen our class and skill-set, my demo partner and I were dropped into the middle of a toxic swamp, and not so much as five seconds passed before we were swarmed by over-sized killer mosquitoes and large, stomping behemoths made of crystal. Anyone hoping to faceroll through the game with a partner will be in for a rude awakening; teamwork is paramount to avoid being overrun, as well as revive any characters who fall in battle (which happened to me more frequently than I would have liked; thanks Nick!). If you can stick together and unlearn the corridor-shooting tactics taught by games like Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 or Battlefield 3, you may yet survive what Borderlands 2 has to offer.

Gearbox is promising a whole slew of new weaponry for Borderlands 2, and the guns I got to try out were all pretty sweet, including a submachine gun that dealt fire damage, a Gatling Gun-style repeated blaster that fired poison rounds and a two-chambered shotgun that turned anything on its business end into a warm pile of goo. Weapon drops in the demo were plentiful, ranging from a scoped, semi-automatic rifle (not terrible helpful against swarms of killer mosquitoes) to a quadruple-barreled shotgun straight out of Bulletstorm (much more effective). Each was satisfying to use, and should be a huge draw for players who exhibit magpie-like tendencies for collecting heavy firearms.

Impressions

Unfortunately, the demo ended far before I was ready for it to be over, and judging by how blink-and-miss-it my time with the game felt, Borderlands 2 should be just as enjoyable a time-sink as the previous one. Look for Borderlands 2 to strike out for more guns and more glory on 18 September in the US and 21 September in the UK.

Labels: 2K Games, Andrew Testerman, Borderlands 2, Gearbox, PAX East

The Spec Ops franchise has long lain dormant, with its most recent entry, the budget-priced Spec Ops: Airborne Commando, releasing all the way back in 2002.

2K Games and Yager Development are gunning to breathe life into the ailing license with Spec Ops: The Line, a follow-up and reimagining of the tactical shooter series.

Spec Ops: The Line is set in Dubai, following a major catastrophe and an order to lock the city down from outside interaction. Players control Captain Martin Walker as he attempts to evacuate Colonel John Konrad, a U.S. Army officer who stayed behind during the disaster. Yager has compared The Line's storyline to Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, which should clue players in about what to expect from the narrative direction, as well as Konrad's reasoning for staying in Dubai.

Interview with lead designer Cory Davis

Gameplay takes place in the third-person perspective, as players guide Captain Walker through the remains of the famous U.A.E. city. In a callback to the series' tactical roots, players can issue commands to their two squadmates, a heavy weapons expert and long-range specialist. During my playthrough, I was able to highlight enemies and give my squad attack orders, either laying down cover fire and allowing me to get into a better position or simply sniping them from seven blocks away.

Similar to other modern third-person action games, Spec Ops: The Line sports a cover system, allowing Captain Walker to vault over and dart between bits of rubble and chest-high walls, as well as blindfire his weapon for a bit of breathing room. Unlike several recent cover-based shooters, weapons in Spec Ops: The Line require only a few shots before either the player or the enemy goes down, making positioning and teamwork between squadmates a priority for survival. Even fights with two or three enemies can go south in a hurry if not properly thought-through.

Firefights in The Line are surprisingly deadly, making tactics integral to success.

One feature Yager is touting especially strongly is its terrain deformation within levels. Post-disaster Dubai is plagued with frequent sandstorms, affecting visibility and even subtly changing battlefield layout. I didn't get a chance to see the terrain altered in any meaningful way during my time with the game, but several firefights were interrupted by fierce sandstorms, limiting visibility and causing me to look for enemy muzzle flashes in order to locate them.

Presentation in Spec Ops: The Line left me feeling conflicted. On one hand, I appreciate what the sandstorms bring to combat, and the characters were well-animated and -detailed. On the other, the game looks so darn brown; I understand that a game taking place in the desert is going to involve a certain degree of dust-shading, but by the time I finished with the demo, my eyes craved colour. Voice actors in the game bark their lines in gruff military fashion, which is fitting if unexciting.

Dubai is an absolute wreck, making parts of The Line a challenge to simply survive.

Still, the shooting and squad mechanics are pretty fun, and I'm still genuinely curious what else Yager's much-touted terrain deformation will do for gameplay. I won't have to wait much longer, either; Spec Ops: The Line is due for release 26 June in North America and 29 June in Europe.

Labels: 2K Games, Andrew Testerman, PAX East, Spec Ops: The Line, Yager Development

After nearly four years and two name-changes, United Front's gritty open-world action game, Sleeping Dogs, is finally nearing release.

Inspired and influenced by works of Hong Kong cinema, Sleeping Dogs offers a stylish, story-focussed take on the open-world genre already populated with heavy-hitters. I got a chance to go hands-on with Sleeping Dogs during PAX East, and came away impressed at the game's polish and ambition.

Sleeping Dogs's main narrative follows Wei Shen, a San Francisco cop tasked with infiltrating the Triad gangs of Hong Kong. As Wei Shen further penetrates the Triad ranks, he begins to encounter more and more emotional friction and toil over the decisions that he's forced to make to keep his cover, making the story unusually character-driven for an open world action game. Where many sandbox games - Saints Row, or Just Cause, for instance - keep the proceedings light and humorous, Sleeping Dogs features a plot which is straight-forward and hard-boiled, heavily drawing cues from Infernal Affairs, the film that informed the 2006 Best Picture-winner, The Departed.

Sleeping Dogs harbours several different gaming styles in its collective port: shooting, hand-to-hand fisticuffs and driving. During shooting segments, players fire their guns from a third-person perspective whilst using cover to fire blindly at enemies, or quickly pop out for one or two shots. Gunplay is still in development, but even the early build I played felt pretty good, with satisfying headshots and weighty firearms, despite some slightly clunky movements on the part of Wei Shen.

Expect to perform all sorts of stylish vaults when in command of firearms.

Hand-to-hand combat plays as a meld of Batman: Arkham Asylum and Jet Li: Rise to Honor. Like the former, players take on multiple enemies at once, attacking in the direction that the analogue stick is pointed, and countering with a quick button press. Like the latter, Wei Shen can perform context-specific attacks using objects littered around the environment, encouraging players to be aware of their surroundings if they want to best their opponents. Unlike the T-rated Rise to Honor, though, Sleeping Dogs's object-specific attacks are one-hit kills that can become quite messy; impaling a thug on an outcropping piece of wood, or giving someone a shave they'll never forget by means of a table saw, for instance. I hate when that happens.

More than just third-person action, United Front has also crafted a series of well-designed driving sequences. In addition to providing transportation throughout the world, certain missions revolve primarily around vehicle-use. One level I played was a straight-up street race, driving from point-to-point in hope of leaving the opposition eating dust. Cars can accrue damage, both in races and in free-world driving, but it is unknown at this time if it will impact vehicle performance or whether it's merely cosmetic.

Sleeping Dogs's Hong Kong setting feels distinctly Eastern. From the densely-packed, tight streets, to congested buildings, neon signs and small stands dotting every street corner, Sleeping Dogs shines with polish and attention to detail. For instance, one early mission takes place during a festival, with lanterns strewn above every alley and a stage where several residents performed a traditional dance.

It's been a long nap, but Sleeping Dogs is almost ready to stretch out its legs and raise hell for the neighbourhood cats. Look for Sleeping Dogs on shop shelves 14 August in North America and 17 August in Europe.

Labels: Andrew Testerman, PAX East, Sleeping Dogs, Square Enix, United Front

I try to stay away from open-world games.

I appreciate the charms of their huge, sprawling environments, and I understand what attracts people to them, but they've never held sway for me. I prefer my games focussed, linear and respectful of my time. I want bang for my buck, and I like moment-to-moment gameplay that keeps me on the edge of my seat. After resisting the likes of Red Dead Redemption, Fallout 3 and Grand Theft Auto IV, I've finally met my match with EA's newest fantasy RPG, Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning.

Except it isn't for the reasons I thought. Whenever a game gets into my head, as Kingdoms of Amalur has, it's because the story has firmly snared me in its tendrils, or because I've bought so heavily into the game's world. Instead, I'm counting down minutes on the clock until I leave work, raring to go home and fire up my Xbox 360, because Kingdoms of Amalur is so bloody fun. It's both exciting to play and engrossing to explore, and it renders me incapable of playing for less than two hours at a time.

Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning is an action-RPG from developers Big Huge Games and 38 Studios, a games company founded by former Boston Red Sox pitcher, Curt Schilling. Kingdoms of Amalur's design is informed by open world RPGs like Dragon Age: Origins and The Elder Scrolls, which fits, given that its executive designer, Ken Rolston, was also the lead designer on the latter series, working on both Morrowind and Oblivion. Like those games, Kingdoms of Amalur is all about exploring, levelling, and combing each and every dungeon for epic drops.

At the outset of Kingdoms of Amalur, your character wakes up amid a pile of corpses, and soon learns that they've been brought back to life by a magical artefact called the Well of Souls. That's not all, though; it seems as though your character is unaffected by the hand of Fate, a very real and present force in Kingdoms of Amalur, and your destiny is completely yours to decide. It's your task to find out what killed your character in the first place, and why Fate cares about you even less than Americans care about football.


Kingdoms of Amalur's fiction comes from the mind of author R.A. Salvatore, whose catalogue of fantasy literature includes the Forgotten Realms series of Drizzt Do'Urden books. Similarly to Mr. Salvatore's previous works, Kingdoms of Amalur's lore comes thick and Tolkien-y, and wastes no time in presenting players with halflings, dark god-kings and names in dire need of a pronunciation guide (amongst them: Ljosalfar, Alyn Shir, Dalenfarth; a race of elves, a person and a region of land, respectively). I find the game's intense dedication to popcorn high-fantasy tropes endearing and entertaining, even though it often seems borrowed from an overly-enthusiastic fourteen-year-old's favourite Dungeons & Dragons: 2nd Edition campaign.

After a brief opening tutorial, players are dropped into the main world with complete freedom to explore, taking quests or simply ambling about and taking in the scenery. It's usually during this section that open-world games lose me, but Kingdoms of Amalur does a good job of leading players along, cataloguing sidequests and keeping everything organised during the course of play. Not only that, the game also implements a very forgiving and flexible fast-travel system, cutting down on wasted time and letting players dive right into the action; travelling slowly and stopping every now and then to smell the flowers, however, is not without its perks, particularly not when the game looks so great.

Kingdoms of Amalur's art style comes from graphic novelist and artist Todd McFarlane, best known as the creator of dark antihero, Spawn. McFarlane gives Kingdoms of Amalur a brightly-coloured and slightly-cartoony vibe not unlike World of Warcraft, resulting in a completely different feel than games with a more 'dark fantasy' bent, like Dark Souls or Skyrim. I've only just finished with Kingdoms of Amalur's first main area, but so far I've enjoyed running amidst its giant trees and swimming through its many lakes.


Where the game truly shines, though, is during its action-packed, fast-paced combat. Kingdoms of Amalur's enemy encounters feel akin to stylish action games like Devil May Cry or God of War, with mid-air juggles, dodge-rolls and split-second blocks and parries fuelling the fun. Players are given freedom to pick from a large roster of weapons, choosing standard-fare equipment like swords and bows, or opting for more unique equipment like faeblades, wrist-mounted daggers capable of delivering more quick cuts than Tony Scott ^[1], or chakram, magical ringed blades that return after having been thrown like flaming boomerangs.

Magic usage is just as accessible and intuitive as mêlée fighting, as players can also hotkey a number of different spells to the face buttons, from lightning bolts, to healing charms, to a magic harpoon that pulls enemies in for further beatings (eliciting a loud "Get over here!" from me whenever I cast it). Finally, as a last-ditch effort, players can fill up their Fate Meter and enter into Reckoning Mode, granting players increased strength, slowed down enemies and an experience boost after having performed an over-the-top, gory finishing move. Combat in open-world RPGs tends to bore me greatly, but in Kingdoms of Amalur, enemy encounters are fun enough to actively seek out, making even the most tedious fetch-quests feel invigorating.

Another of Kingdoms of Amalur's selling features is its class system. Players deposit ability points gained from a level into one of three different categories: might (sword- and warrior-related techniques), finesse (bow- and rogue-related) and magic (self-explanatory). Kingdoms of Amalur offers players a good deal of flexibility when crafting their character, whether they want to concentrate purely on one category or mix and match. I opted for a combination of all three, giving me access to powerful long-range arrows, strong up-close sword strokes and crowd-clearing fire and ice spells.


Players also acquire skill points upon levelling, which can be spent on attributes like alchemy, persuasion, and stealth. Some, like lockpicking, give players greater success in Amalur's minigames, while others, like dispel, can offer different dialogue options. I poured all of my points into blacksmithing and sagecrafting, letting me forge my own weapons and armour and imbue them with powerful gems. Best of all, Kingdoms of Amalur lets players reassign their skill and attribute points at very little cost, letting them experiment with different play styles and find the one that works best for them. Freedom of choice is the name of the game, and you're encouraged to play.

So far, I have had the time of my life with Kingdoms of Amalur, but I do have several complaints as well. There is no option to turn off the mini-map, which can lead to ignoring the environmental art in favour of chasing after quest markers (think Detective Vision in Rocksteady's Batman games). Also, choices made by the player aren't reflected very well in the game, which is odd given the fuss that everyone makes of your Fate-proof demeanour. Lastly, while I do appreciate Amalur's goofy fantasy vibe, I currently have no idea whatsoever about what is going on in the main story, which is as thin and tasteless as a crêpes made of papier-mâché.

Still, these are only small gripes about one of the most engrossing and life-eroding games I've played in some time. It's by no means perfect, and veterans of The Elder Scrolls and Dragon Age might be put off by the game's shallow world-building and storytelling, but for me, Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning is an effective blend of epic scope and satisfying moment-to-moment gameplay, and I can't wait to put in another thirty hours. And, perhaps, thirty more after that.

Labels: 38 Studios, Andrew Testerman, Big Huge Games, EA, Feature, Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning, PC, PlayStation 3, Western RPGs, Xbox 360

On Sunday, 26th February, the US awards season finally comes to a close, with the 84th Annual Academy Awards, better known to you and me as the Oscars.

The Oscars - or, as we call them in my house, 'The Movie Industry VGAs' - are a grand time in Hollywood, honouring the best and brightest in film from the previous year, along with many others hardly considered to be the 'best' or 'brightest' of anything (seriously, they nominated Rio).

With all of the excitement surrounding this year's Oscars, there is a golden opportunity to check out how the gaming industry measures up to its Hollywood counterpart. Therefore, let's take a look at the nine films nominated for the award for Best Picture, and see if we can match them with any corresponding video games.

The Artist = Limbo

The Artist, which has ten nominations and is heavily favoured to win on Sunday, was one of the most-acclaimed films of the year, taking away seven awards from the Baftas and thus it's only right to pair it with a similarly-praised game. Limbo, a side-scrolling platformer released for Xbox Live Arcade, PSN, Steam and the Mac App Store, for instance. Limbo not only shares The Artist's critical praise - it was named amongst last year's top games by several publications - but also its black-and-white aesthetic, as well as a minimal sound design. Limbo was one of last year's best games, making it a great companion for The Artist. Just make sure you watch out for spiders.

The Descendants = Bastion

Not many games feature a Hawaiian setting, and the ones that do don't quite fit; Test Drive Unlimited involves far more driving than is found in The Descendants, whilst Maui Mallard in Cold Shadow concentrates too heavily on private-eye ninja action (also, George Clooney is emphatically not a duck). Hence Bastion, a game that easily matches the prettiness of Phedon Papamichael's Hawaiian cinematography with Jen Zee's gorgeous art direction and sprite-work. Also, a hefty chunk of The Descendants' dialogue is delivered as voice-over, just like Bastion, though Bastion's writing is far less ham-fisted than anything Alexandre Payne came up with for his middlebrow domestic drama.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close = Haze

The events of September 11th are a touchy subject in the realm of games development, making the search for a parallel to Stephen Daldry's combined Asperger's-September 11th-sploitation flick rather tricky. Fortunately, we have Haze, a sci-fi shooter developed by Free Radical in 2008, and the only game that I can think of whose political message is even more heavy-handed than Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Extremely Loud is a 'Profound Story About The World We Live In' about how September 11th 'Was A Terrible And Tragic Event'. Haze is a 'Profound Parable About The World We Live In' about how 'The Invasion Of Iraq Was Bad'. Also, both Haze and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close are pretty lousy.

The Help = Beyond Good and Evil

The Help concerns two African American maids (the titular "help") and their struggles against racism in the post-Civil Rights South; if that doesn’t sound exceptionally difficult to adapt into a video game, I don’t know what does. Fortunately, the film features Skeeter, an investigative journalist who hopes to expose the racism inherent in the town’s social structure, and here’s where we find our in-road. Jade, Beyond Good and Evil’s protagonist, is also an investigative journalist, and her desire to discover the truth helps drive much of the game’s plot. Additionally, The Help is a showcase for strong female characters, and Jade is one of the strongest female characters in all of gaming, making her a fitting through-line between the game and the movie.

Hugo = Super Mario 3D Land

The current leader in Academy Award nominations, boasting eleven, Martin Scorsese's newest film bears a startling similarity to Shigeru Miyamoto's latest slice of Mario goodness. Both are billed as family entertainment, but their appeal stretches to film and gaming fans of all ages. Also, both help push the use of honest-to-goodness quality 3D, and both feature several throwbacks to the early days of their respective medium (Hugo recalls silent films, while Super Mario 3D Land reaches for Super Mario Bros. 3). Am I suggesting that Hugo would be even better if it included a Tanooki suit? Probably, but I won't hold it against it.

Midnight in Paris = Assassin's Creed II

Woody Allen's best movie in years and years seems like a breath of fresh air in filmmaking, especially since its central plot hook is so unique. Or is it? Let's compare the two. In Midnight in Paris, a big doofus (Owen Wilson) gets transported back in time (in an old Peugeot) into a famous European city (Paris) and interacts with famous people (Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, etc). In Assassin's Creed II, a big doofus (Desmond) gets transported back in time (in the Animus) to a famous European city (Florence, Venice, etc.) and interacts with famous people (Leonardo da Vinci, Machiavelli, etc.). Of course, it is important to mention that Midnight in Paris features far less murder and sexual content than Assassin's Creed II. To its detriment, in my honest opinion.

Moneyball = MLB 11: The Show

Games rarely feature the electrifying, riveting dialogue featured so prominently in Moneyball, making that a poor point of comparison, and even though Jonah Hill (who I will remind our readers is now an Oscar nominee) was featured prominently in Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3's marketing, he wasn't in the actual game itself. Let us then turn to the low-hanging fruit, by the virtue that it is one of the best baseball games available: MLB 11: The Show. It may not have Brad Pitt's sexy allure, but it does include a wealth of game modes and all 30 MLB teams, including the sub-fifty-feet-of-crap Oakland A's, for your film-reenacting pleasure.

The Tree of Life = Myst

Terrance Malik's new treatise on creation, spiritualism and life itself has been a darling amongst cinephiles since its release in May, and finds several parallels with developer Cyan's Myst, the best-selling PC game of the 1990s, which is now available on iOS. Both The Tree of Life and Myst are sterling examples of craftsmanship in their respective genre, showing artistic discipline and control, and often furthering their creative aims using a less-is-more mentality. Both also emanate a spiritual vibe, and are best enjoyed as an experience, absorbing their subtleties and how they each paint the corners of their respective mediums. Best of all, both The Tree of Life and Myst are nigh-impenetrable and mind-bogglingly dull to the common man. They're the perfect match.

War Horse = Darksiders

In Darksiders, you play as the harbinger of chaos, War, and during the course of the game, you acquire a Horse. Quod erat demonstrandum.

Labels: Andrew Testerman, Assassin's Creed II, Awards, Bastion, Beyond Good and Evil, Darksiders, Feature, Haze, Limbo, MLB 11: The Show, Myst, Oscars, Super Mario 3D Land

It’s funny to think that, perhaps three or four years ago, the 2D platforming genre was all but dead in the water, written off by the mainstream as, at best, throwaway fodder for Xbox Live Arcade or PSN.

Over the last few years, though, running from left to right has found its way back into modern gaming lexicon, with no less than five major platformers released for home consoles since 2009. Joining this new 2D renaissance comes Rayman Origins, a quirky throwback to the limbless wonder’s first release on the original PlayStation. Whilst not my favorite platforming game since the genre came back into vogue, Rayman Origins has more than enough item-collecting, wall-jumping appeal for gamers craving more from the second dimension.

Like many of the best platforming games, Rayman Origins features barely any story at all. A brief cutscene at the beginning weaves a tale of undead grannies, brutish creatures and missing fairies, but the plot never becomes heavy-handed; in fact, it barely even registers, unless you’re really paying attention (like the talented wordsmiths who managed to eke five paragraphs out of the game’s story on its Wikipedia page). Rayman Origins foregoes plot in lieu of gameplay, and the results feel as light, breezy and carefree as can be.

Rayman’s journeys take him across sixty different levels and five different worlds, each boasting numerous gameplay hooks to tinker with, like Gourmand Land's ice patches, or the Desert of Didgeridoos' gusts of wind. In each level, players strive to collect small golden lums, which free kidnapped Electoons, who unlock new stages and help advance Rayman’s progress. Rayman also meets and frees several Nymphs along the way, granting him additional powers, such as running on walls or floating through the air.


I’ve you’ve spent more than ten minutes with a 2D platforming game since the SNES, there’s a good chance you'll be able to pick up Rayman Origins with little difficulty. The mechanics of running, jumping and using Rayman's special abilities are smooth and responsive, and Origins plays similarly to other strong platforming games recently released. In fact, I thought it played a bit too similarly; though Origins is mechanically solid, and quite fun in its own right, its gameplay never quite clicked for me, and left me feeling as though I had done similar things before in other games, and had a better time doing it then.

Perhaps it's Origins' over-emphasis on lum-collection, which I found unexciting and overly-simplistic in design. I also grew frustrated with the game grading my level performance and progression based on how many lums I had collected, which makes about as much sense to me as grading how many coins I collected in a Mario game, or how many bananas I scoffed down in Donkey Kong Country. I'm sure many platforming fans will enjoy perfecting their timing to snag that last lum before it disappears, but for me, Rayman Origins' single-minded focus on collecting them felt tedious. With little to offer besides combing every level for every last lum, I kept wondering, like Peggy Lee, "is that all there is?"

Where Origins really comes into its own, though, is during its treasure chest levels. Hidden in every zone, and unlocked only by collecting enough Electoons, the treasure chest levels are ten stages of the most sadistically-difficult, re-try-heavy gameplay this side of Dark Souls. During each stage, Rayman must chase a sentient treasure chest through a series of obstacle course-like areas, staying close to the fleeing chest as platforms collapse, doorways close and the entire zone becomes hellbent on stopping Rayman from getting his disembodied mitts on the escaping trunk. Treasure chest levels require route memorisation to simply progress, as well as a heaped helping of patience in order to finally succeed. These sections stand much taller than any other part of the game, and are easily Rayman Origins' high point; tricky though they are to complete, mastering the timing of each one becomes addictive, and the gratification brought by success is incredible.


Despite its stratospheric level of difficulty, Rayman Origins expertly treads the fine line between 'manageable challenge' and 'totally unfair.' Origins’ levels are rife with mid-level checkpoints, often saving after each new room or major bout of platforming. Rayman is also given infinite lives to progress through the game, the game tipping its hat to experimentation whilst still remaining a steadfast challenge.

Rayman Origins positively drips with personality, best expressed through its vibrant, eccentric art style. Every asset in the game (or darn near close to it) is hand-drawn, as well as stylised to an extreme bent, giving each area and stage a unique, untethered vibe. The art direction is particularly gonzo, leaning heavily on grotesque (though often charming) caricatures; broadly speaking, Origins' look is about as French as French can be, and it’s hard not to appreciate the care and love put into the game's appearance. Its music is pleasing, with jaunty tunes and various bouncy melodies, though none of the tunes stuck with me for longer than the time I spent playing it.


Similarly to other platforming games released since the genre’s new wave, Rayman Origins supports up to four-player drop-in/drop-out co-op. Gameplay as precise as Rayman Origins isn’t necessarily conducive to having multiple people, and Origins gets, if anything, even harder when played with a group. Still, co-op is a blast to play, mostly because Rayman Origins offers one of the most comprehensive player-griefing systems in all of gaming, practically encouraging gamers to take advantage of Origins’ infinite lives by slapping one another around or throwing other characters headlong into obstacles. It isn't the best option for making progress in the game, but co-op in Rayman Origins is still a whole lot of fun.

Really, apart from a few small gameplay design decisions, I have almost nothing negative to say about Rayman Origins, except that I found it fun, but ultimately unexciting. I feel almost perturbed; many in the industry have been crowing from the rooftops about Origins since as early as last September, with several listing it as one of their favourites of 2011. I wonder if I’m missing something, if the game mechanics possess an appeal I can’t understand, or if I’m simply expecting too much. As it stands, Rayman Origins is a great game, and one I would encourage folks to experience, but also one I simply can’t get into it as much as other, similar titles.

8/10 [?]

Labels: Andrew Testerman, Michel Ancel, PlayStation 3, Rayman Origins, Review, Ubisoft, Wii, Xbox 360

Goldeneye. The name alone conjures images of four (often more) warm bodies crowded around a single television set, thrilled by the concept of gunning down their friends for the fifth hour running.

Perhaps this isn’t your experience with the game, and you enjoyed it more as a counterpart to one of Bond’s strongest cinematic offerings, engaging in espionage action as only Ian Fleming’s famous gentleman spy could. Regardless of how you enjoyed Goldeneye back when it was released in 1997 (and Activision is betting that you enjoyed the hell out of it), Eurocom’s new reinvention of the Goldeneye name lives up to the spirit of Rare’s revolutionary console shooter, even if the execution sometimes falls short.

Goldeneye 007: Reloaded is a high-def port of 2010’s Goldeneye 007 for the Wii, which updated the game’s story and gameplay while staying true to what makes Bond different from other action heroes. Eurocom also overhauled the multiplayer, adding online competition to the first game’s fabled split-screen, bringing new modes into the mix while retaining other established classics. It was a highly praised bit of software when it was released, and Reloaded is a great opportunity for non-Wii owners to experience one the best Bond games in recent years.


Penned by Bruce Feirstein, co-writer of the original 1995 film, Reloaded’s story is an updated take on Bond’s attempts to stop terrorists from acquiring and using a weaponised satellite, the titular Goldeneye. Much of the narrative remains true to the movie, though changes have been made; the plot no longer involves the Soviet Union, for example, and there are many more references to today’s political landscape. It’s a clever remix of the fresh and familiar, and remains a satisfying tale with only a few small holes (Reloaded ditches the 9-year gap present in the original movie, making some character motivations a bit murky).

Gameplay is better in line with modern shooting conventions; Bond uses ironsights to aim his weapons, and only carries two armaments at once, though he also keeps his signature Walther P99 on him at all times. Where Goldeneye 007: Reloaded diverges from contemporary shooters is in its mission structure. Throughout the game, Bond is given objectives to complete, with additional tasks added on higher difficulty levels, ranging from photographing evidence to destroying arms caches. The emphasis on accomplishing more than simple survival helps Reloaded to feel less like a corridor-shooting simulator, and more like an actual secret mission.


Another way Goldeneye 007: Reloaded stands out from the modern FPS pack is in its emphasis on stealth. Bond is a covert agent, after all, and the game gives him many opportunities to use sneakiness over brute force, taking out enemies using silenced weaponry and avoiding detection where he can. It’s a fun way to mix up the bog standard shoot-all-the-baddies scenario, and several achievements and trophies are awarded for completing levels without being detected. In many cases, stealth can be the preferable option; if detected, enemy soldiers call in about half a regiment's worth of reinforcements, all exhibiting much higher levels of AI than regular guards, and more than happy to flush you out with grenades or flank your position. In this way, Reloaded strikes a favourable balance between action and stealth, allowing stealth aficionados a chance to sneak around to their heart’s content, while always offering an option to go balls-out if the player so chooses.

Bond’s mission takes him from Dubai, to St. Petersburg, to the infamous dam from the first game, and most of the areas are pleasing to the eye, though not the best-looking of 2011. Reloaded is never quite successful at hiding its Wii origins, and many levels lack the polish found in today’s graphically heavy blockbusters, like Uncharted or Battlefield. Still, the game's environments often show several nice artistic flourishes, like the constant snowfall in Severnaya, or the mountain overlooks in Nigeria. Goldeneye 007: Reloaded also updates the original game's cast, replacing Pierce Brosnan with Daniel Craig, and Sean Bean’s Trevelyan with, oddly, Ptolemy from Alexander. It seems like somewhat of a step down for me, but the cast is fairly on-point throughout, especially Craig and the ever-reliable Dame Judi Dench, who provides the voice work for M during mission briefings.


The single-player mode is quite good, but the multiplayer is truly what made the first game shine, and while Goldeneye 007: Reloaded doesn’t do anything to dethrone the reigning champions of the genre, it’s still a hell of a lot of fun. Four-player split-screen is as addictive as ever, and online has expanded to sixteen-player skirmishes, making every match frantic and intense. Reloaded’s multiplayer eschews weapon pick-ups for customisable loadouts, giving players an incentive to unlock weapons and add-ons, but taking away from the strategy of finding placements for the best guns. Reloaded also brings back old favourite modes, like 'Man With the Golden Gun' or 'You Only Live Twice', placing them alongside game types found in other shooters (King of the Hill, Conquest, etc.). Good luck finding anyone who wants to play anything besides Team Deathmatch online, though.

Reloaded could easily have been a nostalgic cash-grab, using the Goldeneye name to prop up a flimsy game for easy money. Not so; Goldeneye 007: Reloaded is a fun, modern take on the Nintendo 64 classic, and while it's unlikely that this new version will become as infamous as its forebearer, it’s a fun throwback, and a reminder of how satisfying a game protagonist Bond can be.

8/10 [?]

Labels: Activision, Andrew Testerman, Bond, Eurocom, Goldeneye, Goldeneye 007: Reloaded, PlayStation 3, Review, Xbox 360

For nearly the entire calendar year, the Call of Duty and Battlefield franchises have been at war.

Similar to the Sega vs. Nintendo days of yore, it’s a pitch, knock-down battle for supremacy; the two companies have launched ad campaigns taking none-too-subtle jabs at each other, and gamers are digging in and choosing a side, ready to defend their favourite franchise and see the opposition go down in defeat.

This has to stop.

Seriously, folks, I’m all for good, healthy competition, but what’s going on between Battlefield 3 and Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 is just plain ridiculous. It goes beyond competitive rivalry and turns into something out of bloody Amadeus. The antagonism on behalf of either franchise is colossally wrong-headed, and it would be in everyone’s best interest if gamers put down their torches and pitchforks, and let both games be.


First of all, this battle doesn’t make our industry look good. Though gaming has slowly risen to a place of prominence in the last five or ten years, it isn't yet quite as ubiquitous as movie-watching or listening to music, and there’s still plenty of room for outsiders to get the wrong idea about gaming culture. I can’t imagine it speaks terribly highly about our industry if its fans are willing to act like jackasses in defence of a multinational corporation, who would just as soon suffocate under their large piles of money than give specific attention to those dedicated to besmirching their competitor’s name. We’re just starting to be seen by the rest of the world as more mature; let’s act like we deserve to be treated that way.

I also can’t think of any other industry that pits its competition head-to-head in such a petty manner. At no point in 2006 did Warner Bros. point at 20th Century Fox and say "Hey! Our movie about magicians in the early 1900s is way better than yours!" Neither do book publishers declare that their new novel is 'better' than an already-established series ("puts James Patterson’s Women’s Murder Club books to shame!"), and whilst it’s hardly unusual for recording artists to enter into disputes, they rarely involve direct album comparisons. These industries appear more confident about their products, and about their ability to coexist with consumers. Fans may argue about whether Star Trek or Star Wars is 'better', but these discussions are most often held between consumers, which is a far cry from having a quarrel perpetuated by the films' own studios.


Besides, if you were to sit down and play both Battlefield 3 and Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3, you would quickly find them both to be different and complementary experiences. Battlefield’s multiplayer-focussed shooter offers much more in the vein of wide-open spaces and free-form combat options, whilst Call of Duty places a greater emphasis on tight, twitchy action. True, both games are modern military shooters with straightforward, set piece-driven single player modes, but they both accommodate largely different play styles, resulting in two different gameplay experiences.

Which leads me to my main point: it’s okay to like both. How very basic it sounds, but how true it actually is. Getting caught up in EA and Activision’s trumped-up battle of the shooters can be great fun, but it can also result in players missing an important truth: that both games are fun, top-notch experiences, and each is worthy of your time. Personally, I alternate between the two, depending on what I feel like playing. Perhaps you can only afford one game, and need to pick between the two; choosing one over the other is fine, but liking one game doesn’t preclude you from enjoying the other.

Perhaps I’m being a curmudgeonly sod, but the whole 'one versus the other' thing just smells of stupidity. Too much time, energy, and Metacritic User Score credibility has been sacrificed to a conflict that does not matter in the grand spectrum of gaming. Both games are out now. Buy them, or don’t. Like them, or don’t. But dragging out this pissing contest of a sales matchup is unnecessary, not to mention stupid.

Labels: Andrew Testerman, Battlefield, Call of Duty, DICE, Infinity Ward, Opinion