Well, Now I'm Just Creeped Right Out.

I think I just experienced the first real "should I be doing this?" moment in my game playing history (with qualifiers, if asked). So I'm playing Heavy Rain, and I take control of Madison Paige for the first time. She wakes up in the middle of the night, apparently after falling asleep on the couch. The t.v. is still on, which I turn off. I have her look at her watch, and it's almost 3am. She seems frustrated at the late hour, so I figure she could use some freshening up. I start walking around the apartment looking for the bathroom, and I find it soon enough. But once I enter it, my mood changes from curious to thoroughly disturbed. I've never played anything like this before, and that includes Indigo Prophecy or any other narrative-driven game.

Once inside the bathroom, I head straight for the sink. I turn it on, and she splashes water on her face. Mission accomplished so far.

I want to quickly digress to make a side point. The Uncanny Valley is a very real thing, and it's no more evident than with Heavy Rain. Everything looks so authentic and genuinely impressive that it's the little things that stand out. For example, as Madison goes to the sink to splash water on her face, she turns the faucet on and water comes out. So far so good, but when she cups her hands and motions toward her face, the water disappears. Nothing actually splashes her, and her hands don't make contact with her face. Things like that are instantly noticeable when everything else is so incredibly detailed. I'd venture to say this could be the best-looking game I've ever played as far as believable, real-world environments and characters go, but it's evident that true photo-realism is still a little ways off. However, the strides that have been made toward that goal are immense, and such efforts will only get better with time.

Anyways, back to the reason for this entry: me being creeped out. After splashing the water on Madison's face, I look around the bathroom, and move her towards the toilet. I've had two other characters use the bathroom so far, so why not her? Well, that was the first wrong move. As she was sitting down on the toilet, the camera switched angles multiple times, and some of them were wide shots of her sitting. It felt invasive and weird to watch her, and I wished I had skipped that action almost immediately. But once that was over, I had her walk around the other side of the bathroom near the shower. She has a big-ass shower, by the way. Three nozzles in a row, even. So I decide to have her take a shower, and that's when I started really feeling like I was doing something inappropriate and sleazy. For starters, there are two contextual actions: moving the analog stick up, or down. When moved up, Madison takes her shirt off. When moved down, she takes her underwear off. Then she immediately walks into the shower and turns it on. There are gratuitous close-up shots of her breasts and ass, and multiple camera angles from which the show continues. It goes on for what seems like forever, and once she's finished, I had to manually put her clothes back on again. I wasn't sure at first the reason I felt so uneasy about this. After all, I've seen hundreds of movies with this exact same scene before, and I'm not sexually repressed, so what's the big deal?

The big deal is agency. I had to take her clothes off and get her to take a shower, and I sat there and watched while she did it. It felt like a huge, huge invasion of privacy, and also manipulative. It was exactly like all those movie scenes I've watched, but with one big difference. I actually felt like I was preying on her in some strange way; like she just didn't know I was watching her every move. This brings up a very unique situation for me, and it's one that I wish more games were capable of handling. Heavy Rain doesn't feel anything like the countless fantasy or role-playing games I've played in the past. All those games had stories and dramatic character arcs, but none of them ever made me feel like I was watching and interacting with someone else's life. Heavy Rain does that for each character, and with Madison Paige, for the first time in a game I felt like I shouldn't be doing what I was doing. If she knew about it, she would be horrified.

There were other reasons for my unsettled nerves, though. As I said, it was almost 3am, and all the lights in her apartment were either off or very dim, and her waking up the way she did made me apprehensive about....something. Also, I tried putting some clothes on her besides basically a bra and panties, but I couldn't. I was forced to have her walk around a disturbing environment in what I deemed a vulnerable state, and I wasn't happy about it. Now, bear in mind that the opening scene of the game entails a man waking up and taking a shower (if you so choose, which I did). I felt none of the emotions I was experiencing with Madison, and for good reason. The character in the beginning of the game seems at peace with himself and his surroundings. Everything is nice and bright, almost idyllic. There's a beautiful back yard that's accessed by an awesome balcony, and I was able to have him lazily walk out and stare out at the nice, sunny morning. When I had him take a shower, there was nudity, but it was relatively quick and it just felt natural. He's in the shower, so he's naked. No big deal. But as I watched Madison take hers, the shots lingered, and I also had much more agency with her character. Couple that with the uneasiness of the surroundings and it's easy to understand the difference between the two scenes.

All these feelings came about before Madison started seeing things. As I sat her down to flip through a magazine, she suddenly looked up and became startled. Did something move? I wasn't sure, but I decided to have her walk around a bit. Once she made it to the other side of the apartment, I turned her around, and the fridge was open. I had literally just closed it, so I immediately wanted to get the hell out of the apartment. I tried to put some clothes on her but there was no option for it. Again, the vulnerable state of a woman by herself when something seems off started freaking me out. There wasn't anything really happening at this point; it was all just in my head. And to those who would say that I shouldn't be feeling like that because a woman can take care of herself, give me a fucking break. There are factual differences between men and women, and there are times when a woman is more vulnerable than a man would be in the same situation. This was one of those situations, and I didn't like it. Anyways, like I said, I've never played a game that presented me with something like this before, and I was really conflicted over how the overall scene made me feel. It was almost like I was the person stalking her, while at the same time acting on her behalf. I'm pretty sure the confusion was on purpose, and it definitely set the desired mood for what was to follow.

And this, my friends, is the nearly untapped potential of gaming. Agency can elicit all types of emotions, but up 'til now it's only given me a very narrow spectrum of samples to choose from. Heavy Rain looks to be significantly broadening the scope of what a game can be, despite some shortcomings I've noticed with certain characters. The voice-acting is really hit-or-miss, depending on who's talking. But when it's good, it's damn good. My hope, though, is for it to continue poking around inside my head, looking for different responses than I'm used to giving to a video game. And even if it can't sustain itself for the duration, moments like tonight will stay with me for a long, long time.

Read more...

And Now, For Something Completely Different.

Going directly from Bioshock 2 to Heavy Rain is jarring. Both games seem to have clear purposes, but their implementations couldn't be any different. One is philosophical in nature and hits on what it means to be part of human society, and the other is, in part, about a family tragedy. Bioshock makes you think, while Heavy Rain makes you feel.

I only played for a couple of hours, but the most startling thing about Heavy Rain so far is its capacity to move me. The game starts as everyone's morning usually does: getting out of bed. Only it's not a cut scene. I used the right analog stick to manually rise out of bed, go to the bathroom, take a shower and get dressed. From there, I went downstairs and drank a cup of coffee before the wife and kids got home from shopping. One of them was having his birthday party later in the afternoon, and the gameplay consisted of getting some things ready for the party. After that was done, I went outside and had some fun playing in the backyard with the kids. This might sound boring to some, but it was an epiphany for me. The emotional strings are going to be pulled tightly with this game. Never have I projected my wants and desires so fully onto a digital world, and that was only within the first fifteen minutes. The only reason it's not revolutionary is because Quantic Dream tried the same kinds of visual tricks and gameplay with Indigo Prophecy, but the emotional impact was nowhere near as profound as the opening of Heavy Rain was for me. So, evolutionary seems to fit a lot better. The one thing that was noticeable for me right away, though, is the sometimes-awkward voice acting. The line delivery isn't always good, which is odd for a game that thrives on believability in terms of characters. But it's not nearly enough to really pull me out of the moment, at least so far.

After a bit of foreshadowing involving telling my son that death is something that just happens even if we don't want it to, I got the feeling everything was just too perfect. This family is everything I now want in life, but Heavy Rain being a thriller about a serial killer, I was waiting for the other ball to drop. And drop, it did. Once tragedy hit, I found myself in control of a completely different character. For the moment, I'll just say that all the characters I've played as so far have their own immediate draws to them. It's late and I need some sleep, so I'll save more of my impressions for later. But holy hell, this game is impressive. It's looking like my 2-plus years of waiting won't be for naught.

Read more...

Re-Surfacing.

Before I played Bioshock 2, I wasn't sure if sequelizing a masterpiece was a good idea. I couldn't think of any ways to substantially improve the experience, and rather than bring the series down by adding a second, lesser game, I was of the opinion that Bioshock should have stood as the lone entry in the franchise. While my opinion has changed, I still maintain that the tale was already told to my satisfaction the first time around. That being said, Bioshock 2 came relatively close to equaling the magic of the original. Story and gameplay contrivances brought it down a bit, but overall it was rewarding and thought-provoking to see the same Rapture with different ideals making the wheels turn. And it helped that the ending was much, much better.

I was actually going to knock the game for the pacing of its narrative, but it's deceptively simple. For the first 3/4ths of the game, there is precious little in the way of revealed plot points. Mostly, all that is given up is incidental happenings from a wide cast of characters that have no sway in the proceedings. Sofia Lamb, of course, has a lot of preaching to do, and she gets her point across rather well. I'll get into her ideology in a minute, but she's like Andrew Ryan in the sense that they both have no problem giving you an ear-full of why their ideas are so fantastically brilliant and yours are so full of shit. One of the biggest draws to the series for me is listening to these so-called leaders spout their crap about bettering society and our species, while experiencing first-hand just how bad a job they're doing. I mean, seriously. Delusions of grandeur can be quite amusing to observe, but there comes a point when you just want to sit people like Lamb and Ryan down and tell them that the world isn't as black-and-white as they see it. But I'm digressing a little too early; my original point was that the lack of narrative for around 15 hours was disturbing, to say the least. But once it kicked in, it really kicked in. I was also more than a little alarmed at that fact, because I figured way too much was going to be crammed into the end and it would feel slapped-on. Thankfully, I was wrong. Maybe the implementation was still flawed, but the narrative itself wasn't very complicated. Not in a bad way, mind you. There were only a small handful of people to come into contact with, and their roles were pretty straight-forward. Despite my earlier, misguided belief, 2K Marin didn't try to replicate the same character reversal from Bioshock. Instead, they focused more on showing people for who they were - or who they thought they were.

Take Sofia Lamb, for example. She despises everything about "the self", and makes the distinction between intelligence and consciousness. I agree that intelligence doesn't necessitate consciousness in the way she defined it, but it's ridiculous to say that being self-aware is the worst thing that could happen to us. It's an oft-used visual, but would she rather humans were more like Lemmings? It's in being self-aware that we're able to find meaning in life, and seeing her version of utopia serves only as confirmation of that fact. Ironically, Lamb stated that Ryan's vision brought about a sort of religious following, which she detested. Oh, really? That would be nothing like the cult following you accrued by drilling into their heads the ultimate value of being part of a collective, right? This is what I meant when I said the game focused on showing people for who they thought they were. Being self-aware, in some cases, can cause you to ignore reason and logic in the pursuit of personal happiness. Such is the case with Lamb. Her happiness had to do with "curing" society's ills at any cost - even her own daughter's life. She said she would never be able to forgive herself for it, but it was obviously a sacrifice she was willing to make. I guess it's not much of a stretch for her, though, since she was already using her daughter as a tool to further her own cause.

Speaking of Eleanor, the final bits of the game with her in it were a vast improvement on the original game's ending. Bioshock ended with the standard video game boss encounter, and I really hated that. This time, though, 2K Marin addressed that flaw and made the experience much more aligned with the narrative instead of actively working against it. Also, the Little Sister sequence took me by total surprise. It was great to see the world through the eyes of one of them, and there were a lot of little touches that made it rather humorous, such as the Big Daddy posters proclaiming "Daddy is so strong!" And for the most part, when I thought Bioshock 2 was going to re-tread some of the same narrative tricks from the first game, it instead varied the formula in some interesting ways. There's still the hunt for suit parts, Little Sisters are again used as a necessity for escape, and your character is artificially compulsed to complete objectives. But instead of simply powering up for a final, physical confrontation, the build-up felt organic to at least the way I envisioned the narrative flow.

I'm not sure if I saw what I think I saw at the very end. When Sofia Lamb and Eleanor are in the escape pod, Eleanor is talking to you about forgiveness. It looks like she put an oxygen mask on Lamb instead of letting her drown, and that perplexed me at first. I thought to myself, "Why the hell would she do that?" Let's face it, Eleanor hated her mother and everything she stood for. Why ,then, would she start exulting forgiveness after a life spent in captivity? Well, I think it ties back in with Lamb's wrong-headed thinking. She reasons that "the self" is the cause of everything evil inside us, and so she set about completely wiping Eleanor's ego and replacing it with the collective hopes and dreams of an entire civilization. But in rejecting those ideals and then, in the end, still choosing to save her mother, Eleanor exemplified with a single action what Lamb couldn't see within an entire city full of people. It was Eleanor's conscience that allowed her to have compassion and forgiveness, and nothing Sofia Lamb could ever say would change that. So I think one thing to take away from this is how we all have the capacity to do harm, but it's our capacity for individual goodness that makes life worth living. Even if we have a huge propensity towards hurting each other, being at least conscious of that fact and trying to work for a better existence is where human beings shine.

Read more...

The Plot Thickens.

As a warning, I'll be going more into specific plot points and characters in this post.


Dionysus Park seems to mark the beginning of the end of Bioshock 2. Before I got to this point, I had received precious few tidbits of story specifics, and I was actually wondering when it was going to get a head of steam going. Well, the steam is starting to build now. I've learned some things about my character and what he did 10 years ago, and also what the catalyst was for the events taking place during the game. I'll guarantee you some douchey self-interest was involved, as well as unscrupulous back-stabbing. But what it basically boils down to is this: someone deserved to get it, and I gave it to him.

The first thing I noticed when I stepped out of the airlock was a sign that instantly brought me back to 2007. I forget the actual name on the sign, but apparently Sander Cohen had an art gallery of sorts, and throughout Dionysus Park there were scratched paintings, broken sculptures and destroyed statues, all pointing to one of my favorite characters from the last game. It just put a smile on my face to see his name again, honestly. There aren't a lot of direct tie-ins to Bioshock in the environments, so it was a nice touch to finally offer something familiar. Obviously, though, Sander Cohen didn't make an appearance. Instead, the deal-maker this time around was Stanley Poole. I had already collected a few audio logs of his beforehand, and he didn't come across as the straightest shooter. That's probably the understatement of the year. Without going into too much detail, Poole is responsible for your situation. He's also responsible for the death of a lot of Sofia Lamb's followers, and for much of what happened to Eleanor. It's all pretty fucked up, and this guy deserved everything that came to him (despite the same binary choice that seems to be the default conundrum in Rapture).

Poole worked as a reporter in Rapture back when it was still kicking, and Ryan had hired him to infiltrate Lamb's cult by pretending to write a tell-all book about the fall of Rapture. Once he got on the inside of the cult, it pretty much went downhill from there. As far as I can tell at this point, no one benefited from Poole's involvement in any of this. I don't want to go into any more details, but suffice it to say this guy is a total asshole. Once I got to Dionysus Park, he was immediately on my case to take care of all the Little Sisters in the area. He felt threatened by them collecting the Adam from corpses because of the DNA memories stored within, and his deal with me was to get them out of the picture. In return, he would open the control booth to get the train started. That was pretty much it, really. Dionysus Park was fun to explore, and so far every area in Rapture has been very noticeably different than the last. And adding to the constant scenery change is the steady addition of more enemies. In Dionysus Park, it was Houdini Splicers, and I made sure I had fully researched them before I moved on to the next area. It definitely pays to do so, because the most beneficial reward is being able to tell where they're going to re-appear much more easily.

In fact, of all the available research subjects, I only need to finish the Big Daddy, Brute Splicer and Security. Unfortunately, I keep forgetting to snap the pictures of cameras, turrets and bots, so I barely have any progress on them. There was even one room with at least 6 cameras and 2 turrets, and I took exactly zero pictures. Way to fail.

But the further I get in the game, the more impressive the presentation is becoming. Not many games can make the lack of interaction a strong suit, but Bioshock 2 does it constantly. It's funny, then, how the simple act of just meeting up with another character gets me all excited to get where I need to go. Like I said in another post, these people I'm interacting with almost don't seem real, so when I get the chance to see them, it does nothing but strengthen my resolve to push forward. Bioshock, in general, is all about conflict and resolution without much in the way of positive reinforcement. You have to get shit done or die trying, which brings me back to another point I made in a previous post. Stanley Poole is another guy I wouldn't mind getting to know a little better, but the game structure doesn't allow for that to happen. The only real way to accomplish that would be to make a prequel, so again, my fingers are crossed for that to happen some day.

I also need to mention that even though Andrew Ryan and Sofia Lamb are both extremists, from time to time they make valid points. I even find myself agreeing with some of the things they say. It's too bad they can't (or more accurately for Ryan, couldn't) get past their own myopic views to see the bigger picture. Both espouse to be working towards that bigger picture, but the only way to do that is through some form of compromise. That's one thing life is full of, and neither Ryan nor Lamb have that quality in them to allow for less than their every desire. I have more sympathy for Ryan, though, because I think he's a more noble person. I'm not saying he's not horribly flawed, but in direct comparison to Lamb, I'd side with him probably every time. Still, that dirty "c" word will continue to inhibit Rapture from ever becoming what it could - and should - have been.


Read more...

Cults and Crosses.

Having finished Siren Alley about an hour ago, I'm struck with just how much Rapture has changed. Gone are the statues portraying Man looking up to the heavens, and in their place are shrines for Man to bow in deference to the very thing they formerly aspired to be. It was strange being in a traditional church setting, but the cult vibe permeated the air far outside of the Temple of the Lamb. I think one of the most appealing things about this series is that it makes you constantly think to yourself, "Wow, I'm glad I don't live there." No matter what is going on in Rapture, I can't help but feel the hopelessness and futility of everyone still roaming the once-great halls. The feelings I experience while playing Bioshock 2 are, for some, the same things video games allow them to escape from. I use games for that purpose as well, but it's not often for a world as rich as Rapture to exist in the form it does.

Siren Alley is the sanctuary (or at least one of them) for the cult following of Sofia Lamb, which, it seems, has built itself a strange form of Christianity. There's a lot of talk about The Almighty Lord doing this and that, and sin and redemption. Numerous Holy Bibles are littered around nightstands and counter tops. People seem to want to be forgiven for the things they've done, and in wanting their burdens to be lifted, they've allowed extreme thinking to alter their minds. It's really no different than what happened to Rapture before, but this time it's for a totally different reason. Lamb has some secret stuff going on behind the scenes, which I'm still trying to puzzle out, but I have at least an idea of what she's doing now. All I'll say is that having an army of people convinced of something with everything inside them can be very, very useful for ulterior motives.

The characters in this area, in a way, almost made me wish the structure of the whole game was different. Most of the time in Bioshock, every different area has a sort of "boss" character. They each have their own little block of Rapture carved out for themselves, and the goal of the area basically boils down to exploring their weird little world and then confronting them once you've discovered everything there is to know. The same holds true in Siren Alley, but I really wanted to get to know the central characters better. I could smell a good story coming from their relationships, and I wish there was a logical way to elaborate on it without bringing the whole game to a screeching halt. There's no real way to do it, so it's not something I begrudge the game itself, but I do think it's too bad I'll never really get the chance to explore the lives of these people a little more. In the end, I'd call it a massive compliment to the game world and the ability of the designers who crafted such a believable and interesting narrative. Leaving the player wanting more can sometimes be the best thing a storyteller could possibly do, and in the case of Bioshock's characters, it is certainly the case.

I'm also starting to get a lot more plasmids and tonics now, which is further opening up the gameplay for me to experiment with multiple ways of totally ruining people's shit. Spider splicers seem a lot quicker, but it doesn't really matter when I have a home-made shotgun with tesla coils sprouting from each side. I think I'm going to be using the next few hundred Adam I get to buy up every tonic slot, because there are just so many stackable benefits to be had from them. I don't want to have to be continuously switching them out at the gene banks, so I'll just kick ass and equip as many as possible. I'm not really sure if I'll be able to buy every plasmid in the game, but I've already pretty much found my stable of a few abilities I consistently use. There are quite a few plasmids to be had, but some of them don't seem particularly useful to me, especially with the tonics I already have equipped. For example, there are both tonics and plasmids that deal with elemental damage. Having both equipped would be stackable, but it seems like overkill and a waste to use them at the same time. Needless to say, I have a lot of options in front of me.

The last thing I'll mention is that as I was walking around in Siren Alley, I saw a Little Sister start harvesting Adam from a corpse that wasn't a corpse until I showed up. So, my initial reaction was spot-on: any corpse will do for collecting Adam. Sometimes I hate being right.

Read more...

Introducing the Pii.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Read more...

Deeper, Still.

As I played through some four more hours of Bioshock 2, I continued to be in awe of the world Irrational Games (2K Boston) created. I've never played System Shock or System Shock 2, but man, would I love to. The price for System Shock 2 on Amazon is unfortunate, to say the least, so it looks like I won't be playing it in the foreseeable future. Nevertheless, that game's so-called spiritual successor is keeping me plenty busy in the mean time.

Tonight I went through Pauper's Drop. It's where, according to Augustus Sinclair, at least, the dregs of society hang their weary heads. The place is directly under the Atlantic Express line, and everything about it is fittingly shanty'd up. Pauper's Drop is also where the game starts to feel like it's opening up for me to do things the way I want to do them. Bioshock 2 is structured differently than the first game, because once you've left certain areas of Rapture, you can't go back. The game even gives you a warning that if you continue past point X, it's closed to you from then on. The great thing about this new area is that it's a lot bigger than previous areas, and the game's mechanics are starting to gel together to form the bigger gameplay picture.

For one, there is more than one Little Sister in this area, which means twice the amount of protection segments. Sure, they're absolutely, transparently artificial, but it's still fun to set up a fire zone and wait for the horde of splicers to come happily running to their fiery doom. The one thing that bothers me, though, is that other Little Sisters can walk around willy-nilly, jabbing syringes into whatever the hell they feel like without getting so much as a fart in their general direction. Randomly, firefights will erupt between a Big Daddy and some dude with a bandage on his head, but it's nothing near the all-out chaos that occurs when I decide to harvest some Adam. Whatever, I have cyclone traps now, so they can suck it. Besides the added mass splicers-as-lemmings carnage, the research camera becomes available part-way through the area. Just like in the original game, the camera adds a bit of depth to multiple gameplay aspects. Not only is it more fun to take snapshots of enemies before beating them to death, but taking good pictures gives you bonuses such as tonics and added damage against certain enemies. The combat feels like it has more than one dimension to it now, as it should. I maxed out all research tracks in Bioshock, and I imagine I'll do the same again. I wonder, though, if any part of Bioshock 2 will be able to best Sander Coen's game of take-pictures-of-corpses-so-I-can-get-off-on-it, while at the same time wondering if the ash-covered dead people are going to eat your face off. That shit was fucked up.

I also appreciate the scaled-down approach to such a large game world. In Bioshock, there was a lot of running around between areas with tons of real estate. This time around, the world feels just as big, but it's sliced into smaller chunks that the player has to tackle one at a time before advancing. It's nice this way, because it cuts back on the risk of backtracking too much or going in circles trying to find that one door or thing you missed. The map seems to be a little more helpful, as well, but that could just be because there's less square footage involved. Either way, the game feels a little more focused and intent on making sure the player has just enough space to work with. I've heard the game described as more linear, but that's a bunch of bullshit. You're still dropped into a wide-open arena full of things to do, and the ways and means of accomplishing specific goals are totally up to you. I, for one, feel like I have total control over the way I'm playing.

Very briefly, I feel the need to mention something I brought up in my previous Bioshock 2 post. I mentioned the moral "decision" regarding the Little Sisters, and how the choice is nothing more than the simplest of dilemmas, especially when stacked up to what the rest of the story has to offer. I experienced the same sort of thing tonight in Pauper's Drop. There's a character in the game whom you can either kill or let live. It's presented as some big choice for you to mull over, but the whole kill-or-spare version of morality is getting a little stale to me. Why does it have to be such a drastic choice? Why can't the game be filled with smaller, more subtle choices that add up to something in the end? Mass Effect sort of goes down that route, but I also have problems with Bioware's system. All in all, I've yet to see a game fully realize a "moral compass" within the constraints of a narrative. I'm sure it'll happen one day, and I'll blog my happy little ass off about it.

Read more...

A look back at: Heavy Rain.

Shortly after finishing Heavy Rain, I thought to myself: Did I just finish 2010's game of the year? It's barely March, and already we have been blessed as gamers with the likes of Mass Effect 2, Bioshock 2, Darksiders, and more. But, as I sat there on my couch watching the credits, I couldn't help but think: "What's going to beat Heavy Rain?"

Moreover, is Heavy Rain even a game? Well I guess that depends on your definition of "game". If to you, a game is you controlling a character on screen and running around environments, then yeah, Heavy Rain is a game. The difference here is that, instead of moving level to level taking out bad guys, then encountering a boss, you are really just interacting with scenes.

And these "scenes" are what set Heavy Rain apart. By presenting the gamer with scripted event after event and letting you make decisions that impact each character, Quantic Dream grips you the way that a great movie would. Fully invested in these characters, each with his/her own demons, you care that much more about them. Couple that, with a good story, and you have a great piece of entertainment.

So that brings us to the presentation. Heavy Rain is a great looking game, not the best, but great. What really helps the presentation here is how everything flows together to make a cohesive experience. The camera angles are well done, often adding to the drama. The biggest part of all this is the "Quick Time Events" that make up a major part of the gameplay. With Quantic Dream's last game, Indigo Prophecy, the QTEs were always right in the middle of the screen, more times than not punishing you for paying attention to the scene rather than the button prompt. In Heavy Rain, they are used to draw your attention to the action by putting the QTE in the middle of the action. This really does go a long way to drawing the player into the scene.

Will Heavy Rain be game of the year this year? Way to early to tell. But what I can tell you is that I am ready for more of this "Interactive Drama".

Read more...

Journey to the Surface.

Sequels can be funny things. Sometimes they vastly improve upon their predecessors, and other times they take a step backwards. Mostly, however, they're a combination of the two. Take Bioshock 2, for instance. There are immediate and obvious improvements to the game - most of which are mechanical - and they go a long way in allowing me to continue to enjoy my journey into the depths of Rapture. But what is the cost of these rote additions to the nuts-and-bolts of the game? I don't mean to suggest that one aspect of a game has to suffer in order to improve upon another; I'm simply wondering where the priorities were for the folks at 2K Marin while they were developing Bioshock 2.

Don't worry, I'm enjoying the game quite a bit so far, but there are certainly flaws I feel the need to point out. For starters, being a Big Daddy should come with immediate advantages. It certainly does when you're dealing with regular ol' splicers, but when confronted with taking down another Big Daddy, the encounter exposes what's really going on with the gameplay. Visually, you look and feel like a lumbering behemoth that could wreak havoc at will. In practice, you're exactly the same as you were in the first game, only with a different character skin. You'd think that being inside an enormous diving suit would afford you some luxuries in the defense department, but when a crazy lady with a pipe hits you for a quarter of your health in 3 seconds, all pretenses of power are dropped. But my problem isn't really with normal enemies. I noticed this disconnect mostly when I encountered my first Big Daddy/Little Sister combo. When I was about to engage him, I thought to myself, "Alright, Big Daddy on Big Daddy, dueling drill arm action. May the best man win." Once it was over, I was painfully aware there was only one Big Daddy during the fight, and it wasn't me. Why is it that when I swing my gigantic drill with thunderous force against the armor of the Big Daddy, he seems to shrug it off and in one fluid motion knock me half-way across the room, taking half of my health with it? I thought we would be evenly matched as far as brute force goes, but I was sorely mistaken. I'm not complaining about actual difficulty, mind you. I'm noticing the difference between what the game is telling me I'm capable of doing, and what it's actually allowing me to do.

I completely understand that if I were able to just obliterate everything in my path that the game would be a simple matter of pressing the "kill things" button while walking forward. Perhaps, then, the basic concept should have been completely different. Maybe they should have done what I've been wishing for since finishing the first Bioshock: a full-on prequel. I want nothing more than to be able to walk through Rapture at the height of its power and opulence; to be a witness to the unfolding madness and chaos as Ryan and Fontaine battled for control of an ultimately failed societal experiment. I think it's a great idea to take the role of one of Fontaine's lackeys, going about his dirty work trying to throw every wrench possible into Ryan's works. At some point, maybe your character would start to see things differently and a conflict would arise. I haven't put much thought into it beyond that, but I'd call it a pretty good starting point. Anyways, my whole point is that being a Big Daddy for the entire game might not have been the wisest of design choices. The game plays just like the original, which I'm fine with, but it forces me to ask why I can't take (and dole out) the same amount of punishment every other random Big Daddy is able to. I'm willing to forgive this disconnect and call it what it is: a purely cosmetic change. Granted, story-wise it's a genuine difference. But as far as the gameplay is concerned, you walk with a metal clang in your step and grunt when you fall.

Something else that really bothers me is gathering Adam with the Little Sisters. I haven't gone back and checked, but I'm pretty sure Adam can be harvested from any corpse. As long as they're spliced up, they should do fine, right? And if that's the case, then why can't I get it from, oh, I don't know, the hundreds of people I'll have killed before I'm through? Instead, the game only gives me Adam from specific corpses that are labeled as "Adam corpses". I can guess the reason, which is mechanical contrivance. But it makes absolutely no sense to me, and gives me more cause for alarm. A secondary (and far less stupid) bafflement is the sort of mist that acts as an ethereal bread crumb when trying to find the next Adam corpse. What the hell is up with that? I don't remember there being any supernatural means for Adam extraction up to this point. In fact, if you remember when you get your first plasmid in the original game, a Little Sister walks up to you thinking you're dead. When she gets close enough, she realizes you're still alive and says something like "he's not an angel yet." So, she was fooled by seeing you lying on the ground, which means she wasn't being led by some weird fog trail that comes out of nowhere. No, it's another gameplay mechanic that has no weight or meaning to it, and I wish it wasn't there.

One thing I'm glad is available is the ability to change the difficulty setting at any time. I started the game on hard, but after a couple of hours I realized I wasn't having that much fun. There are certain games I'll only play on the hardest difficulty possible, and they mainly consist of FPS or shooters. If you want to count Bioshock as a "shooter", then go right ahead, but the reason I play it is wholly different than why I play most other FPS. I'm not exploring Rapture looking for the hardest twitch challenge I can get, and I don't want my time to be filled with frustration and repetition from dying. What I do want is to feel immersed in the environment and delve deeper into the story behind the fall of Rapture. If I need to scratch the shooting-dudes-in-the-face itch, I'll pop in Call of Duty or any number of other games. But I made this realization after I had my first Little Sister protection encounter. Up to that point, I was pretty much getting devastated by every single splicer I had fought, but I was soldiering on. But when I had to fight like five of them at once, and then five more after that, it clicked in my head that this isn't why I'm playing. Bioshock isn't the most technically proficient FPS out there (I never claimed it to be), and the harder difficulty really highlights this fact. It actually seems quite a bit harder than the previous game's hard difficulty. So, yea, I'm playing on easy now, and I couldn't be happier. I never thought I'd say that about a game, but when the story is more important than the challenge, it makes a lot of sense. One could even say it's a testament to the game that the story is good enough to put the combat on a lower tier, and I really think that's the case here. Either way, for me, easy is the way to go.

My last gripe isn't really a gripe, and it pertains to both games in the series. The issue of morality and harvesting/saving the Little Sisters was never that big of a deal to me. Honestly, it's such a binary decision that morality doesn't really factor into it. The moral choices have already been made in Rapture, and all you can do is look at the outcome. Of course, no one would want to kill a child, but I think the way it's presented is superficial when compared to the rest of the game, and limited agency to such a degree defeats the point. If the developers really wanted the question of harvesting or saving to be a moral one, there should be no tangible benefit to either decision, and no pretense of there being one. The way it's currently set up, it just boils down to a numbers game. Most people will approach the situation by wondering which decision will yield more Adam instead of pondering a mercy killing versus attempted salvation. Giving such a choice a deliberate numerical value takes away from the emotional impact that should occur within the player. But, like I said, I find that emotional impact elsewhere in the game, so it's a minor fault that I'm more than willing to move past. The rest of the world and the people in it are so detailed and thought-provoking that I don't really need this specific mechanic to carry all the weight. I'm just sayin'.

An aspect of the sequel I did move past, or rather re-thought my perspective on, is the way you talk to and interact with Sinclair. Last night I played through the Atlantic Express section, and when I saw Sinclair for the first time, I was a little annoyed. I had thought that his character was supposed to be Bioshock 2's Atlus, and it felt forced. In combination with that, the only time other characters interact with you (excluding enemies) is behind an artificial impasse. There's always something blocking you from fully seeing them, and sometimes even your movement is restricted. For some reason, that really bothered me when I saw Sinclair. I felt like the developers wanted to keep the feel of the first game, but they were trying too hard. I even went to bed thinking about it, but the more I thought about it, the more I saw the presentation of all the characters differently. As I mentioned in the paragraph above, the fate of Rapture was basically sealed a long time ago, and as I'm going through the different areas, I feel like I'm seeing the ghosts or echoes of things that were. In a sense, I get the same feeling from characters like Sinclair, and even Tenenbaum. By effectively cutting you off from most visual contact, the game subtly turns living, breathing people into memories. If you think about it, their most common means of communicating with you is strikingly similar to the audio logs strewn about the environments. And when you actually get to see them, it's only for a fleeting moment from a distance. So as the game presents them, I know they're still in Rapture, but I feel like I'm alone.

The story itself is still up in the air. I like the way the communal, "we are all one" societal structure is shown as a cult-ish religion. At first, I was a little put off by the directness in Sofia Lamb's approach. She's so much the polar opposite of Andrew Ryan that it almost felt like too much. But that's the thing: she's so entrenched in her beliefs that she's consumed by them. Her every waking moment - much like Andrew Ryan's before I clubbed him in the face with a wrench - is spent propagating her point of view. So it makes sense for her to speak in platitudes now and again, and to seem like a personification of an idea. That's exactly what she is, and Rapture is, yet again, the outcome of extreme idealism.

Of particular note so far is the Journey to the Surface section of Rapture. It's a theme park built by Ryan to indoctrinate children against the desire to go to the surface. It's structured like a Pirates of the Caribbean-esque experience, with animatronic scientists, artists and families being used to further his brain-washing techniques. The sets are pretty damn great, because they all have the same basic message: everyone on the surface is trying to do their own thing, but The Man keeps getting them down. To illustrate this point, it shows people going about their business, then a gigantic hand comes down from the sky to stop them in their tracks. The amusing part is how every single display does the same exact thing. Andrew Ryan was not one for subtlety, after all. But this section of Rapture was, by far, the most interesting in my journey and I can only imagine where it's going to lead me in the coming days.

Read more...