The Simpsons......Game?--A Review of America's Favorite Disfunctional Family

While it's been over twenty years since we were introduced to the new found exclamation of "Do'h" and informed that we should take care not to own a bovine creature, man, it's sadly been almost that long since we've seen a good Simpsons video game. Understandably, the only great titles were those that firmly latched onto the coattails of "tried and true" game series/mechanics. The Simpsons the arcade title was a downright addictive experience, but never strayed from the Konami 4-player arcade formula established in such other titles as X-Men and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turles. Radical Entertainment's highly successful Simpsons: Hit and Run, which sold over three million copies, was essentially a careful transformation of Springfield into a Liberty City/Vice City/ San Andreas of sorts. Like most media enterprises that tend to start outside of the video game realm, the only way in comes in the form of a preexisting template.

Feel free to wander around the house. The camera angles that greet you will have you heading for the front door in no time.

Unfortunately, because the Simpsons were one of the preeminent franchises of the 90s, and, while diminished, remain a strong force to this day, the pressure to flood the market with all sorts of dolls, games, toys, etc regardless of quality happened all too fast. Soon Nintendo titles hinged on such flimsy ideas as Bartman, Virtual Bart, and the Treehouse of Horror episodes. And let's not even talk about Bart Vs. The World. But things have changed, EA has now been entrusted with the house that Matt Groening built, and put their hefty pocketbooks behind a truly new adventure for Homer and the gang, a belated tie-in to the also quite self-explanatory film The Simpsons Movie.

Let's start with what shouldn't surprise us, from our past dealings with EA and The Simpsons. As par usual, EA has more than sufficiently flooded the project with cash, and got Groening's staff to provide the game with over forty five minutes of animation, on par with that of the tv show, as well as scribing the tale itself. The collaboration between the two powerhouses is more than evident, from the voice acting to the frighteningly perfect reproduction of Springfield, to the more than frequent references to obscure episodes (like Mr. Sparkle, for example). The next-gen visuals are at a point where they rival the look of the animated show itself. More or less, EA's got the presentation down pat, and taken great care to bring all of the aspects of The Simpsons to fruition in the title.

Here Bart and Lisa take on the logging efforts of Mr. Burns, and to paraphrase a certain South Park quote, "The Simpsons did it...already."

What's surprising (and by surprising, I mean "bad" surprising) begins first with the story. Instead of perhaps honing in on a specific person/aspect of the Simpsons universe, like most episodes do, or portioning the game into episodic self-contained bursts, The Simpsons Game has taken a new approach. Specifically, the Simpsons family is self-aware that they're in a video game; they find the manual to discover their moves, and look up a walkthrough on the Internet to discover what to do next. Isn't that funny? I mean, doesn't it have you in fits? Oh look, Will Wright and Matt Groening are in the game as themselves!!! Don't you love how they're self-consciously aware how stupid the idea of key cards are?

Is it funny, or sad? If one beats others in pointing out his/her own flaws does that forgive them in the first place?

While some games have truly been funny in their self-referential nature on gaming (like the funny, albeit flawed Eat Lead starring Max Hazzard) this smacks of an incessant self-conscious apology. As you go through the game, you'll be occasionally interrupted by the "Comic Book Guy" as he diminituively points out that you've once again encountered/enacted/found a "video game cliche," of which there are 31 to discover throughout the game. They vary from the protagonist not being able to swim, to the traditional pressure panels that require both party members, to the ubiquitous breakable crate. If these were mechanics were "one-liners" that we could dispense with after hearing, perhaps they'd be, dare-I-say-it, comical. But the truth is that these very elements they joke about are ever present and make up the majority of the gameplay.

The feebleness of the gameplay is masked by the ability to switch between the nuclear characters of the Simpsons family; freely in the hub world, and between the two pre-designated characters within the levels. Lots of characters mean lots of abilities and moves, right? Sure, if you're up for some fairly mundane abilities spread across four characters. Bart can glide with a Bartman cape, grapple to certain objects, and use zip-lines. That's right, you'll be familiar with Bart's "special powers" if you've encountered a ropes course at summer camp. Homer can burp on people to stun them, and roll around as a rotund version of himself. Lisa can play her sax loud enough...to stun people...and can pick up large objects with the power of...*sigh*...Buddhism. Marge can use a megaphone to...*yawn*...stun people, and can order crowds together to attack things. Many games would be completely comfortable with giving a singular playable character in a game this many abilities, were they not so trite and shallow, but the mediocrity is spread out in this one.

Bart can climb vines. Because, apparently, nobody else can. And, because, apparently, a cape and a mask easily assist one in said process. Ughh...sigh.

Most levels involve running around, finding collectibles to open doors, or breaking down a certain set of structures, or defeating a certain amount of enemies. Boss battles have a "rinse repeat" nature to them, once you've figured out the "secret" or "weak point" it is literally only a minute or two before you'll have destroyed it. And this begs a question: If a game is self-aware of its mediocrity in gameplay, or the over utilized tropes it plays around with, do we approach it with the same stance we would a game rushed to production, hoping its mediocrity will only be discovered once the shrink wrap and security tags are shed?

It provides us with another question as well: Is The Simpsons Game, in actuality, a game? With gameplay that is mindnumbingly repetitive (which is not to say that this is incapable of being enjoyed, aka, Marvel: Ultimate Alliance) and virtually no penality for death, along with perpetual solutions to already frighteningly easy puzzles provided in thought bubbles above the character's heads, are we actually playing a game? Or are we being pushed through a linear series of events, with an engineered impossibility of failure? Is this a predecessor to the recent eye candy that was Prince of Persia?

...speaking of the great choice-less adventure...

While the abovementioned paragraph seems to be littered with a handful of rhetorical questions, the answer to most is a resounding "Yes," and this appears to be a recent trend in the transformation of popular franchises into video games: basic, yet uncomplicated games, with basically no learning curve, and hardly any penalty for death, based on a preconstructed graphical engine. It's a "Choose Your Own Adventure" with the poor options taken out. You're given an accurate presentation of the desired franchise, and a storyline to match such, with no chance of not completing it.

While the review has taken a bit of a macroscopic stance on the implications of games that share a resemblance to The Simpsons Game, allow me to recap. The Simpsons Game is a well produced, and heavily funded title that relies more on fans "getting" soundbite references and meeting bit characters from the tv program, rather than focusing on innovative gameplay and/or an enjoyable story in line with the show. The storyline is too caught up in itself, and the subtlety of the show's humor (which was never that subtle) is completely lost with its meta-narrative. If you want a good looking Simpsons platformer riddled with basic fetch quests and a camera that will give you fits, the already low price should already encourage a purchase. If you simply have a Simpsons itch that you need to Scratch-y, you'd do better to simply get your hands on one of the earlier seasons on DVD.

Overall score 6/10
Good graphics and presentation
Bad Camera
Barely passable story
Poor gameplay

Whater ya playin'?

Welcome to what will likely be the first and only installment in the "Whater ya playin'" series. If that title seems odd...just imagine the merchant from Resident Evil 4 saying it. And if you haven't played Resident Evil 4, begone with thee!!! *Beckons toward the door* If you're wondering just what goes on in this series, the pithy statement "it is what it is" comes to mind. Leaning more towards the "stream of thought" style blogging is more known for, I'm simply going to write just what I've been playing lately, why I'm playing it, if I plan to keep playing it, and how I feel about it in general. This may branch out to sentiments regarding gaming in general, but I'm not certain at this point.

*Looking back over the past paragraph* Well, while that somewhat reeks of self-indulgence and a heightened level of self-importance, I'm going through with it. The last thing I want to add to that list is to have the qualities of a "quitter" as well.

What have I been playing, exactly? I've been occasionally dabbling in The Secret of Monkey Island: SE, for Xbox Live. Why do I say occasionally, you wonder (or not...if you happen to have a life that can successfully revolve and exist outside of knowing my every move). Because apparently you HAVE to have online access wherever you desire to play the game, as it requires logging into Xbox Live. I understand why, like, I totally get it. But that doesn't mean that it isn't a pain. I don't have any of the ethernet ports in my room, and I didn't shell out whatever ungodly amount for that expensive wi-fi receiver. That being said, I can only play when I'm at a friend's house. Perhaps it would be less of an issue if I actually had LIVE, but because I actually get my ass out of my house, I play with other people.

The only true "Secret of Monkey Island" is that you're going to need to have LIVE to download it...and to unlock it every time you play it.

Minor ranting aside, The Secret of Monkey Island is a perfect port of the original Lucasarts PC title. Well...it can be. You have the option at ANY time of freely switching between the original game and the HD makeover that its received. Please note the word "makeover." While this old boat's been given a new coat of paint, the gameplay, the puzzles, the dialogue, the storyline, all of it is intact...and untrammeled by developers that would be tempted to tweak things. I'll get into it more in a full scale review, but its safe to say this this, for ten dollars, is a bit of a steal. One of the best adventure games ever, intact in its original format, as well as the new look, and with all the dialogue fully voice, with the cast of The Curse of Monkey Island nonetheless.

There's just a much more epic sense of scale and teamwork in Gearbox's title. Not to mention that one actually begins to care about their ally compatriots. Something that CoD and MoH have never been quite capable of capturing.

Other than that, I've been dabbling around with a much more large-scale, yet linear title: Brothers in Arms: Hell's Highway. If you haven't heard of it, the sheer flooding of the shooter market between the Medal of Honor and Call of Duty series have left little room for other series to inventively enter the genre. What I'm getting at is that there have been a couple affordable alternatives that are vastly inferior to the aforementioned franchises, but none have offered anything other than a poorly emulated experience, and most importantly, addressed the gaps and flaws that these two have presented. Specifically, Brothers in Arms offers an amazing story that isn't afraid to focus on the exploits of a single battalion/correct name for group of soldiers led by Matt Baker. You'll connect with each one of your squadmates, learn their fears and dreams, and see the effects of war on individuals even when they're not being peltered with mortar fire.

The gameplay is a bit of WWII meets Gears of War, with the grenade and cover mechanics looking eerily familiar. However, I find the cover system here to work a bit better, and is generally more responsive. The graphical engine is quite good, utilizing a modified variation of the Unreal Engine 3, and provides a semi-cartoonish/exaggerated style to the characters, making it easier to distungish who's who. The only problem I've encountered so far is that the story's strength hinges on one's knowledge of the two previous installments in the series. Apparently I'm visited several times by a ghost (or have nightmares of such, I'm not entirely sure WHAT he is at this point) of a long dead squadmate, but the importance of such relies on the knowledge of this character in previous games.

What's on the horizon? Looking at starting up Bionic Commando and maybe a couple rounds of Sid Meier's Civilization. But, more importantly, what are you playing?

Battlefield Bad Company--A Review

Summary in a sentence: EA's D.I.C.E studios makes a remarkably competent foray into "single player campaign-land" with its new title, sporting a remarkable appetite for open-ended destruction...with a brand spankin' new graphical engine to boot.

During the summer of 2008, Electronic Arts bestowed upon a parched populous of gamers two seemingly similar titles. Indeed, it requires little imaginative skill to realize that Mercenaries 2 and Battlefield: Bad Company have a common upbringing in the "visit foreign country...get betrayed...seek revenge amidst a civil war, all while attempting to profiteer for one's own self off of said chaos and senseless destruction" genre. If this genre never truly catches on, I'll attribute it to the title of it. As it is in the crapshoot that is the video game industry, one turned out to be remarkably good, and the other...so-so. What's altogether surprising is that this conclusion turned the notion of "pedigree" on its head. Provided the notion of pedigree has a head. Or a metaphorical head.

The bottom line is that Mercenaries 2, the sequel to one of the very few "GTA clones...but not exactly GTA clones" to make a name for itself other than "shameless shoddy emulation" was based on a fairly strong freshmen entry that, with a few minor flaws fixed, stood to stand in strong contention with long-running franchises. Battlefield:Bad Company came from a long series of games that, like the creepy second cousin you occasionally run into at family reunions, never managed to truly fit into the console realm of gaming. It was far too dedicated to online play as its main purpose, as well as banking on a solid PC mods community, and, in general, never mapped well to console controllers, or ported well to consoles, in general.

*Cue Zelda chest opening tune: da-na---NAAAAAAA!*

At this point I could continue to creatively weave a narrative that would continue to perpetuate this notion that Battlefield: Bad Company was taking on an Olympian sized quest to topple the evil regime that is the Mercenaries franchise, which would turn out to conveniently eat babies and use aerosol cans, not for utilitarian purposes, but to further the spread of global warming. However, you're clever readers, and have already discerned that Battlefield: Bad Company was the better title of the two. Without any further ado, let's break it down.

The narrative of Battlefield: Bad Company treads the line perfectly, neither providing the player with an overwrought and heavy-handed melodrama reeking with self-indulgence, nor leaving the player with a one sentence justification in the manual for just why the act of widespread destruction and mayhem is ensuing. And it runs something like this, you are a soldier in the US military named Preston Marlowe, and without elaborating too much, you've happened to do something that doesn't go over well with the military-industrial complex. And rather than expel you, or perhaps put you on trial (though the past has shown that this hardly means anything) the army has its own "Remedial Regiment" reserved for the less than...exemplary models of the US Army. Appropriately, this group is called "Bad (B for short) Company."

Joining you are Private Sweetwater, who happened to upload a virus into the military's computer network, Private Haggard, a pyromaniac with a southern drawl that happened to set alight a fairly large ammo dump, and Sarge, whose done nothing wrong but was told his term of service would be shortened if he commanded the regiment with a disturbingly high turnover. While on your first mission you come across a member of a private military organization called "The Legionnaires" who happens to pay its members in gold bars.

A little explosion never hurt anyone. That's why you'll be causing BIG ones in this game.

Haggard, lured by the sweet promise of 24kt wealth runs after the trucks of "The Legionnaires" and, technically, invades a neutral country. Not wanting to have to answer for Haggard's temporary lack of judgement, Sarge orders your regiment to give chase. Explosions, more explosions, and a bevy of explosions follow. Cutscenes hardly provide one with a lengthy exposition on US military tactics, but they do provide likeable banter between your squadmates, and while all of them seem to fall into fairly common war film archetypes, it's enjoyable nonetheless.

The gameplay is fairly conventional and builds on the mechanics of previous installments, as well as conventional FPSs. You're allowed to carry a primary weapon (shotgun, assault rifle, sniper rifle, etc) a secondary firearm (more or less, variations on the theme of "pistol") and a special inventory item. There are a few twists though.

All primary weapons (and all are "real" weapons, used by various worldwide military and police organizations) come with a secondary function (underbarrel grenade launchers, for example) or allow for the use of grenades. The inventory accessory is what really mixes things up though, and allows for a decent amount of tactical customization. Need something to take out small tanks and pockets of infantry? There's a GPS transmitter that can call in mortar strikes. Want something more adept to taking on more heavily armed vehicles? Pick up a device that calls in a laser guided bomb, controlled by the player as it drops through the sky. Aching to repair your smoking helicoptor? There's a universal repair tool that'll do the job. And, of course, C4 is available as another one of these "gadgets." But you can only carry one at a time, until given the opportunity to swap out.

You've got a flaming slag that used to be a personnel carrier, Sarge looking on, and Haggard hoisting quite the armament. Care to guess just what exactly happened?

Those not used to the Battlefield series will find a few surprising changes on the FPS conventions. For starters, there are no health packs, instead, you have a adrenaline-esque shot that you are free to inject yourself with at any point, which returns your health back to a reassuring 100. Sound like a "game-breaker?" It's not. Because in Battlefield you die one way. Fast and frequently. Yet when you die, and return to the most recently reached checkpoint, all of the vehicles, soldiers, and inanimate destruction you had laid waste to on your previous "life" will remain exactly that...dead. It's an odd feeling, to say the least, to instinctually expect a tank around a corner, only to find a smouldering mess. In the end, you might be asking just what all of these oddities add up to, and the reality is this: a highly fast-paced explosion-fest that has no problem literally throwing you right into the middle of a full-on war, without the endless frustration that would accompany an entirely realistic approach.

The visuals of Bad Company are competently handled by the Frostbite Engine, recently created by D.I.C.E studios, and allow for an unbelievable amount of action to take place, without slowing down the framerate a bit. Visual fidelity has not been compromised for sheer speed, though. The character models are well animated and a semi-exaggerated cartoony flair in their creation breathes life into what is otherwise the "already been there and done that" that is modern warfare. However, it must be said that aside from blowing entry point holes into the sides of buildings, and simply leveling things, a greater amount of "tactical chaos" would be appreciated.

"Or I'll huff...and I'll puff...and I'll...fuck it, let's just use the mounted grenade launcher."

The music is strikingly epic and adventuresome without, like the story, getting too full of itself. It's aware that it's a sandbox roam-around in search of treasure. Likewise, the voice actors take care to never present their roles as anything but that. Sarge is constantly peeved with the morons he's now taken charge of, Sweetwater comes across as the geeky intellectual that just happened to press the "ENTER" button at the wrong time, and Haggard...well...he's the idiot savant that has none of the qualities of the latter.

Think of it as the "Remote Control of Death." Just point, click, and instead of switching to Animal Planet, set loose a flurry of mortar strikes. Which is not to say that Animal Planet isn't exciting, but...

Overall, if you want an excellent modern warfare campaign with a very different mood and disposition than CoD4 this is it. If you were looking for D.I.C.E. to finally put a bearable and light story to its large-scale battles, this is that as well. Hell, if you're looking for a generally flat-out amazing, as well as affordable (20 dollars, mind you) title, and you aren't morally opposed to First Person Shooters, this is for you.

Mirror's Edge: An Exercise In Innovation

I recognize that by saying that I thoroughly enjoyed Mirror's Edge, with few issues and exceptions, I am somewhat in the minority. Few individuals extensively trashed it, but...well, hmm...as much as I hate to use numbers and other quantifiable methods for something I'd otherwise deem unquantifiable, most people probably ranked this game between 70 and 80 percent. I'd probably put it around 90%, right around my stance on Mass Effect. Above all, the game's length and "trial-and-error" play style are slightly problematic, but we'll touch on these later on.

Let us begin with the story, something mostly uninteresting and only lending the gameplay a flimsy mechanic to work with. You're a Runner named Faith, an individual tasked with carrying messages and transmissions across the rooftops of a totalitarian state, where all other forms of communication (radio, satellite, television) are heavily monitored to the extent that we've found ourselves in a situation comporable to a modern day reenactment of Marathon. As with carrier pigeons, often the oldest technology proves to be the most reliable. As with most games involving a totalitarian state (not including, say, Overlord...and I'm still waiting for the video game of 1984) runners are involved with the "underdog" movement, carrying messages for the opposition, in favor of a mayoral candidate that promises to bring change.

The story is so boring, or, perhaps insignificant, that let's just call this individual "Harvey Dent." As one might suppose, Harvey's attempt to bring "power to the people" isn't about to go unopposed. To save another five to ten minutes of boring exposition, there's a couple people in the police dept that support this candidate, under one of which Faith's sister works. Guess what? In the vein of most video games, the Princess/Pe'j/the President's daughter Ashley/ your sister is captured.

And guess what? Now the whole issue is "personal." Surprise, surprise. And you'll spend the remainder of the game attempting to clear her name.

What you will care about is the gameplay and the lovely aesthetics that Mirror's Edge has to offer. For those who like to read reviews of products of which they have next to no previous knowledge about the product being evaluated, Mirror's Edge is a first-person title that *gasp* isn't a shooter. In fact, it's...*drum roll* a platformer!!! Granted, this idea is not utterly foreign, one only needs to look at the majority of FPSs that have offered some mild platforming sequences to see that it has been done before. However, this is usually the ubiquitious criticism found in all these titles, not only the creation of the platforming elements, but the refusal to revert to third-person when confronting them.

So...effectively...Mirror's Edge is the full-fledged effort to create an entire game centered around a genre/niche/perspective that has often been the game development "kryptonite" of other titles. A comporable equivalent would be a game that is made up of one giant "fetch-quest" (this is not to say that such a feat has not been attempted several times). To say Mirror's Edge is basic platforming however, would be to make the same claim of the wonderful Prince of Persia series...a generalized mistake. Specifically, the game hones in on the parkour scene, or "freerunning" as it is otherwise known. This involves flips, jumps, leaps, and other acrobatics strung together, and usually performed in an urban setting where one has props (bars, building edges, etc...) to interact with.

The core elements to success in Mirror's Edge are accuracy and momentum...closely followed by balance. One must smoothly chain together sliding under water pipes, jumping onto adjacent ledges, and climbing poles in such a fashion that one hardly finds oneself coming to a "dead halt." Indeed, most of the games actions and elements cannot be approached without some degree of built-up speed or momentum. Indeed, the moments where one can stop and grasp a feel of one's surroundings are few and far in between. Linger too long at many moments, and you'll give the mounting police forces something to put in their sights. The only instances where this isn't the case are the blatantly puzzle sequences that depart outright from the free-running sequences. Sometimes you'll be tasked with a semi-puzzling sequence while on the run, and at said points, expect to die...a lot. Sometimes this will result from haphazard leaps of...pardon the pun...Faith, while others will involve a slew of bullets being hefted in your direction.

While there are few enjoyable feelings as great as expertly navigating a course on time trial mode, the antithesis can be said of one's first play through an area. Trial and Error, the "plug-and-chug" twins of slovenly gameplay are ever-present in Mirror's Edge. Many times you'll approach a jump with absolutely no idea of the outcome, reassured only by the "Runner vision" highlighted in bright red. However, this tends to show up less and less toward the latter levels, as the developers assume you can pick out the items (ramps, pipes, climbable fences) from the remaining inconsequential set pieces. Occasionally you'll be asked to "get creative" when dealing with a *SPOILERS* train and a helicoptor *SPOILERS DONE* but otherwise, expect to stick to your bag of tricks.

Aesthetically, D.I.C.E.'s skyrise platformer is equally technically proficient as well as artistically inspired. Character models are slightly less detailed than the environments, but considering that you'll spend of the time with people chasing after you, this is inconsequential. Most of the face-to-face interactions are handled in the cutscenes, which will be discussed briefly. The first person view is expertly accompanied by vision blurring and depth of field effects that only heighten the feeling that you are truly seeing things through Faith's own eyes. You'll spend a lot of time staring at her hands and feet, so these are well detailed. However, it is the artistic style utilized that really shines. All surfaces are either excessively shiny, reflective, and clean, or painted a solid and bright color. Effectively, it's a town of shiny windows, and whitewashed clean buildings, occasionally highlighted by blocks of neon shades. It's what every totalitarian/seeming utopia should look like. Crisp. Clean. And doused in red wherever you're suppose to interact in the interest of subverting it. If you want avoid a coup, (facist dictators take heed) don't allow anything to be painted red. It will ultimately be your undoing.

The voice acting is functional, but not stand-out, and the sound effects are sparse, but perfectly capture the moves and pacing and momentum of Faith. The soundtrack, however, is probably the best of the year, and a likely contender for the best soundtrack in a game ever. It is ambient wonderfulness at its best, which picks up to a buzzing Electronica pace when confronted with a...time-sensitive or combat oriented scenario.

Overall, Mirror's Edge is an attempt at innovation, and while this should not force us to give it a "pity grade curve," perhaps one should recognize these risks taken to achieve the positive aspects, the newfound ideas that Mirror's Edge manages to pull off well. After all, if we cannot promote innovation at the outset of a franchise, no matter how infantile or imperfect it may be, it'll never live to see itself fine tuned.

Resident Evil 5: Proudly Not Fixing What It Doesn't Think Is Broken

Somehow attempting to "blend in" strikes me as a somewhat futile gesture, when you happen to be the only white person in the village.

Unlike the majority of my reviews, allow me to start this with a fairly straightforward statement: If you enjoyed Resident Evil 4, and wouldn't mind playing the game over again, with an extra layer of graphical polish and a different set of characters, play Resident Evil 5. On the other hand, if you spent the last four years expecting this installment to be a fundamental quantum shift...a truly "next-gen" experience, a weekend rental might be more apt.

And this, dear friends, is why we won't be returning to Raccoon City for this installment in the Resident Evil series. Unless you're playing one of the Wii's rail-shooter installments. In which case, Raccoon City still exists. Because Capcom needs money. More money so they can release another 75.3 more Megaman games this year. MOAR teh Megamans!

Throughout the Resident Evil franchise we've encountered zombies in a mansion, zombies in Raccoon City, zombies on a train, and pretty soon we we having to traverse over to Spain, and currently Africa, to get our zombie kicks. Ever since we nuked Raccoon City and promptly said goodbye to any chance of an undead revival there, Capcom has scoured the bottom of their storyline bin for excuses to look outside this. In Code Veronica we had Claire hunting down her brother on Rockfort Island and in the Antarctic. In Resident Evil 4, Leon was looking for the President of the United State's daughter. In this most recent installment, Chris Redfield still has questions about the supposed death of his old partner, Jill Valentine. Apparently the Resident Evil series is now reduced to the disappearance of relatives/friends, and investigating mysterious deaths for plot points. Not that story has ever been a strength for the decidedly hammy B-movie vibe of a franchise.

With that in mind, there's not much to say about the story period. Chris is sent to Africa as part of the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance to investigate a man by the name of Irving who is supposedly attempting to sell...guess what...SPOILERS....a biological weapon on the black market. Of course, he's working for one company called Tricell, who happens to be in cahoots with SURPRISE, SURPRISE, Umbrella. Of course, several things always happen to come neatly packaged with Umbrella: mutated and rage-filled humans, mutated dogs, and other genetically engineered freaks of nature. And yes, Wesker also happens to be along for the ride. It's a paper-thin plot that does its job of providing interesting set pieces and massive adrenaline explosions, but doesn't necessairly have you wondering "whodunit" at the end of the night.

Wesker is still alive, Umbrella still exists, oh, and the new evil biochemical company, Tricell, actually in cahoots with Umbrella. So...just what WAS accomplished in the past RE games?

Gameplay wise, I have to hand it to Capcom. When you choose to change so few...so very, very few aspects of the gameplay, why do you break the things that work, or alternately, apply the changes that people spent several years clamoring for? Let us begin with the addition of Sheva. It's an odd move, considering that after having to put up with Ashely, most gamers really wouldn't want an assistant in any capacity. But hey, Ashley got out of your way when you had to shoot someone, and didn't steal/waste your supplies. What does Sheva do for you? Well...to begin with, she severely expedites the collection of items. Move too slowly in scouting a room, and she's likely to dig into the spoils herself. Now this is just a minor (though after a while there's nothing minor about it) annoyance, but if you don't take heed she'll begin an item "spending spree," especially if left with your healing herbs. Again, this would be alright if she was a "support" character, providing cover fire and healing you when only absolutely necessary, in order to optimize the herb's healing capabilities. Sheva, however will douse you in a torrential downpour of first aid spray if you so much as scratch your shoulder or attain a papercut.

On the other hand, if you happen to think that Sheva is a "big girl" and can hold her own, handing her the heavy weapons (the magnum, grenade launcher, or rocket launcher) is likely to elicit a befuddled "me, what?" response. Despite leaving her with all sorts of high end weapons and gadgetry, she continued to look at me as if I had just asked her to run into combat with a cap gun. Correction: she would probably have at least figured out how to fire the cap gun. The truth lies in the fact that Sheva was brought into the picture for several reasons. Firstly, it allowed for a character that didn't "come out of nowhere" to be utilized as a possible "Player 2" during co-op mode.

Secondly, it allowed for Capcom to proudly claim that, unlike any of its previous entries (save the dreaded Outbreak series) that their newest Resident Evil title had online play going for it. Sadly, for many gamers, if a game will not embrace the online world in any capacity, there's just no chance it will be picked up. There have been exceptions, like Bioshock, but this rule holds true for many. Finally, Sheva was utilized to avoid claims that Resident Evil 5 wasn't a "racist" game. Unfortunately (and this would honestly merit another essay in its own right) Sheva only worsens the post-colonial attitude that the title already enforces, throwing in a pinch of misogny and racism for good measure.

At this point Sheva is: A. Reloading her gun. B. Shouting that she needs you to cover her C. Wasting your healing herbs D. Wandering off on her merry own E. All of the Above

Let it be said that aiming for an exemplary model of "ally artificial intelligence" is commendable, and many games like Prince of Persia have offered their own attempt at such an ideal as of late. Is that what we have been handed with Resident Evil 5? Not at all. We've been handed, for all intents and purposes, an intolerable stand-in for what would otherwise be controlled by a human. Either create a new storyline that props up when we play co-op, (it doesn't have to be award winning, but some plausible excuse for introducing the new character) or let us "go solo" in single player, or simply fix the ally A.I. These are your options, Capcom. Let's try not to stray outside of them next time.

Solid Snake, Rambo, Mario (fuck Luigi) what do all of these people have in common? They didn't need pardners...AND NEITHER DOES CHRIS REDFIELD. I mean, have you seen his muscles? Come ON. Bitch, puh-leeze.

Another big mistake was the removal of the attache case. For those who forgot, in Resident Evil 4 one happened to carry all of their equipment in an attache case (even though we actually never saw the case in gameplay). The case allowed for one to participate in a mini-game of sorts, twisting and rotating their items within the case in a Tetris-like manner, optimizing the space the case offered. You didn't have to, if you didn't want, but there was something rewarding about being able to pack a few extra rounds of ammunition because you were diligent in case-management. In addition, it allowed for weapons to be represented proportionally. The pistol didn't take up as much room as the sniper rifle, the shotgun took up just as much room as several grenades.

This is how it used to be. Oh the color-coded grenades.

Guess what? In Resident Evil 5, the case is gone, as is this minigame and the semi-realism regarding the size and weight of weapons. Now you have nine inventory slots, eighteen if you include Sheva's nine as well. Each slot can only hold one type of item: a shotgun, pistol ammo, or a keycard, for example. Also removed is any explanation for why one can visit a "store" at the end of every level. A store that somehow sells every weapon you have encountered...in the middle of Africa. And every store manages to have every single product the last store had. No more do I have anyone asking me "what are you selling" or informing me that he'd buy my wares at a "high price, stranger."

That's right, a fully-loaded shotgun now weighs you down just as much a half dozen land mines. Granted, you can use the directions on the D-pad as presets for four items, but there's no menu or HUD to remind you just which direction is which preset. That is, aside from pulling up the inventory screen...which won't pause the game. If this is beginning to sound like a meshing of all pre-Resident Evil 4 gameplay elements with those that have come since...you're correct. You're also correct in assuming that this frustrating methodology of going about things is not welcome in the fast-paced realm of the two most recent titles. "But," you proclaim, "it sounds like Sheva will be able to carry your extra items!" Not when you've got to spend four to five of those slots making sure she can, at least semi-moderately, keep herself from dying.

And did I mention that it is still physically impossible to walk/run and shoot?

*Sigh*

All of this aside, Resident Evil 5 is just a prettier Resident Evil 4. And...for the most part, I'm okay with that. Character models look great, the motion capture is wonderful, and cinematics are amazing as usual. Voice work is cheesy, as par the course. It's just a question of if one can put up with the attempted modifications to the series.

Initial Impressions of Fable 2

I feel like far too often, I find myself compelled to come up with something new and genuine for this blog (though, I'm sure any reader would assure me that I have done nothing of the sort...though thankfully I have so few readers (whether or not this is a problem, I haven't decided) that nobody has called me out on such) that I probably need to be allowing myself to have some impersonal entries, you know, just on what I've been playing, my impressions of such, etc...

With this in mind, I have recently begun playing Fable 2, which originally I had no intention of doing. It debuted around the time of Dead Space and Far Cry 2 back in October of 2008, and I had no intention of allowing a sci-fi horror fest or a technical masterpiece of open-ended Africa to go unnoticed. That's not to say I didn't have any "beef" with the Fable series. I certainly did. It's one thing to buy a highly hyped game at launch, and find it disappointing. It's a completely different affair to wait a couple years, have several friends shouting its praises, buy the player's choice deluxamundo edition, and still not wholly enjoy the experience. Such was my impression of Fable: The Lost Chapters.

It was hard to get excited about this game...even despite the fact that I had "MORE CHOICES"...whatever that meant

I know what you're thinking. "Nick, first, this is supposed to be about the second entry in the Fable series. True, but as with any film series or book series, past entries always have to be taken into consideration. Quite simply, I found the first entry to have an entirely superficial good/evil dichotomy as well as the character creation mode. You couldn't be some fisticuffs brawling/sniper hybrid or an axe-toting archmage. If you didn't follow one of the "strength, skill, or will" paths to its uttermost end, selecting all of its respective skills and upgrades, (SPOILERS) the endgame fight with Jack of Blades was a miserable hair-pulling extravaganza. On top of this, everyone's character tended to look the same by the end of the game: sporting the same set of class-relevant high-level armor. Everyone looked the same, acted either like Gabriel or Satan's right-hand imp, and had the same skill-set abilities.

These are basically your only options in Fable. Disturbingly enough, most people didn't have a problem being limited to either a canonized saint, or a supreme dick.

Granted, and allow this to be my minor digression for the article, Knights of the Old Republic, which I would marry if the State of California eventually gives me such an opportunity, is guilty of many of these crimes. The "light/dark" polarity is more influential on one's gameplay, but the fact that one's allegiance can be flipped at the tail end of the title trivializes one's efforts up to that point. However, like Fable, throwing skill points around with reckless abandon and equipping anything but the uniformly best armor is not advised.

The only thing that convinced me to take a look at the title was it's "50% off" tag at Circuit City. Thirty dollars tends to be my "I can afford to be wrong" limit. And, well, I was wrong about the Fable franchise. For those who were afraid that Fable 2 is "more of the same" and certainly didn't enjoy what was handed out the first time, I have good news. The newest installment features much more intuitive controls, a larger world, and, above all, I'd argue that the "good/evil" mechanic has been improved.

For those that aren't aware, probably one of the most intuitive mechanics that Fable 2 implements is the addition of man's best friend. Adding a dog instead of, say, a "partner" or ally character might seem out of place with the advancements that have been made in "ally a.i." but it works. It's easy to become fed up with the ally that keeps getting in the way of your shots, or continues to repeat the same five phrases about just how awesome/awful a hero you are, or decides that his contribution in combat will be to binge drink your health potions. I've frequently been tempted to commit a little "friendly fire" of my own from time to time, though apparently Sega never thought to make it possible to drown Big the Cat in Sonic Adventure as I have attempted such so very, very many times.

Someone was sleeping behind the wheel in the design department when Big the Cat was created, another differently colored hedgehog would have done nicely, instead we got this social deviant.

Killing your own dog though? NOT okay, even the thought of such makes one a stage 5 deviant. It's hard to get mad at a dog, too. Combat with a dog generally means that he won't be getting in the way of your "headshots," and all he demands for his services are a game of catch and a treat, instead of say, half the loot. Dogs don't require that you buy them expensive equipment, and then decide to leave your party. Your canine companion also can assist in the unearthing of money and other items buried in the ground. He also has developed the ability to sniff out treasure chests. I won't get into how improbable such a concept is, but let it be known that I don't mind.

And yes, here is a picture of your dog. That I can explain. As for the member of the Lollipop Guild getting all up in my grill...that I can't explain.

Fable 2 has also introduced a control configuration that is similar to that of Assassin's Creed. Specifically, each button correlates to a certain sort of action, which can consequently be modified to control that sort of attack. For example, pressing "Y" will shoot whatever your selected ranged weapon is. Holding down "Y" will (with the technique purchased) zoom in for an over the shoulder targeting view. In the same vein, "X" handles all of your close combat issues. It's intuitive, and will result in less rummaging around to locate the game manual.

The visuals are, love them or hate them, remarkably similar to the last entry: cartoony with bobblehead-esque proportioned bodies. Yes, your sneaker is still roughly twice the size of your torso in this title, but much of this is excused by the change in time periods. Taking place in the Enlightenment era, Albion is now focused on corsets and tri-corner hats. You can dress like a Zorro-esque highwayman, or "suit-up" in some traditional "noble" fare, if you find the situation demands such. I've never felt more girly, and yet proud of myself, than when I spent a half hour buying and dyeing my clothing in downtown Bowerstone. But hey, it does matter, in Fable 2 the clothes do make the man...err...or lass. Indeed, most articles of clothing can boost such factors as "attractiveness" or "posh" or "aggressive" which in turn alter how everyone else views you. Gone are the days of simply purchasing the strongest armor. In Fable 2 nobody has any!

I've enjoyed what I've played so far, I've gotten married, avoided having any children, have made quite a name for myself as a blacksmith in Bowerstone, go by the nickname "Gunslinger," and recently defeated a bunch of reanimated corpses in the capitol city's cemetary. You can, quite literally do anything in this game. I'll add more later once I've gotten further.

To Wii Fans: You Have Your Cake, Why the Hell Aren't You Eating It?

Allow me to preface this post: I do not own a Wii, nor do I play one on a highly frequent basis. Both of these can be justified by the fact that the Wii's pricing point, when compared with the game selection, is simply not reasonable. Before I buy a console, I have to be able to mentally list off fifteen games I know I cannot get on a system I already own, that stand a reasonably good chance of staying exclusive titles. This, in turn, is why the Wii has been a problematic buy for the hardcore gamer audience, in addition, in a multiplatform universe, the Wii is often underwhelmed button-wise to handle control schemes of more "button demanding" titles, and has to result to gestures commonly utilized to signal ships via a system of flags back in 1800s. This is where the Wii could have developed a niche in the market, in the realm of intuitive controls. Instead, they induce carpal-tunnel, and generally result with a Wiimote embedded in one's television.

This is what I think of whenever I see people playing the Wii. I can only speak for myself, though.

It can't compete visually or control-wise, and so, by definition, the only games that tend to fare well on the Wii are those that are custom developed as an exclusive Wii title. Again, one would be inclined to believe that when working with a laid-back set of hardware that many employees were already quite familiar with from the previous generation, this would encourage developers that wanted to lower their development costs to develop games for the Wii. Instead, developers saw the Wii as a veritable "dumping ground," a place to "recycle" games of the past generation by porting them to the Wii, without any optimization for the Wii's (while limited) increased capabilities, either in the controls or visuals department. There will be exceptions, like Okami or Resident Evil 4: Wii Edition, but for the most part, this holds true.

If you played it on the Gamecube, you've got a lot of bonus conent and a completely new satisifying way to play it here. If you didn't play it on the Gamecube, wellcome to civilization, consider this your passport.

Of course, the natural intuitive response is to play the blame game. Just who is culpable for this scenario? While most hasten to blame the developers, or Nintendo themselves, I'd first point the finger at the marketing team of Nintendo, as well as the public. There is no denying that Nintendo has repeatedly marketed the Wii as a system that is played as a family, as their initial advertising campaign clearly demonstrated. Two Japanese men show up at the quaintly suburbian home, suggest that "Wii would like to play" and are invited in, to demonstrate to the non-threatening white family just how much clean wholesome fun can be had on the Wii. We've (pardon the pun) all seen such an ad. Perhaps this can be contributed to Nintendo's launch titles, which have never really incorporated more than one or two "Mature" games. Due to such, they've always "set the stage" for each system as another "safe" buy for parents, only to have to sporadically defend this image as Mature games went through the production cycle.

Wii would like to provide you with another chance to view Nintendo as something only for children and adults with sick Princess fantasies

Now, let me be clear, there is not a 1:1 understanding between Mature games and hardcore games. Titles like World of Goo and Braid clearly demonstrate that a game can be hardcore without utilizing the tropes that a mature game generally does. But, for the most part, this tends to be the case. Consequently, game developers are afraid to release more "hardcore" titles on the Wii, they tend to not sell well, and frequently are admonished for placing a "profane-laden" title on the doorstep of Mario and the Princess. Someone needs to get the message to the public that the Wii is no different than any other gaming console: it sells games for varying age groups and demographics, and it is the parent's job to display the basic understanding of the alphabet to discern whether or not the child should be playing the game. Parents are inherently lazy though, they assume that in selecting the Wii as their console, that Nintendo will do the rest to make sure their kid has a 0% chance of encountering something objectionable. But that's not Nintendo's job, to be a digital babysitter for today's youth. The Wii should not be scared into pigeonholing itself to the pre-teen or "bingo and bedsores" demographics. Sony brought us God of War and Killzone, but also Crash Bandicoot and Katamari Damacy. We don't see anyone calling them out on this theoretical act of hypocracy.

Published by the same publisher on the same system, yet no complaints here for one reason or another

However, a few brave souls have ventured to provide Wii owners with exclusive titles that are genuinely good, but perhaps don't have the marketing bucks or mass appeal of Wii Sports. Then again, what does? This doesn't excuse the fact that games like the wonderful port (to call it a "port" is a disservice to the title, perhaps "reimagining" is more appropriate) of Okami, or the recent entry in the Fire Emblem series should have to fight to crack a half million sales worldwide. Hardcore gamers may complain and bemoan about the relative lack of "hardcore" games, but when given the chance to "vote with their dollars" they've abstained. This is why No More Heros, Suda51's masterpiece of meta-gaming criticism couldn't even sell four-tenths of a million copies, or why Steven Spielberg's Boom Blox was left straining to sell a million copies. Even a new entry in the Resident Evil series, The Umbrella Chronicles, which attempted to capitalize on the "light-gun" capabilities of the Wiimote, was barely able to reach 1.5 million copies sold. These are numbers that the decidely "above average" Army of Two and Perfect Dark Zero were capable of on the Xbox 360.

If loving No More Heroes is "wrong," than I'm not quite certain I want to know what being "right" is. And the picture above is a loving, affectionate embrace, don't get the wrong idea.

Perhaps Wii gamers don't realize that passing up every one of these in apathy, and waiting for the next dyed-in-the-wool Nintendo mascot game is intriniscally damaging to the system. For every title that fails to sell (many of these do fine becoming critical darlings, mind you) it sends a message to the developer that creating Wii games that don't follow the exploits of plumbers with high blood pressure or a mute sexually androgynous protagonist with a green windsock for a hat, is a waste. It tells the publisher that investing in developers with these interests is unprofitable. It tells Nintendo that, despite whatever cross-demographic plans they might have had in mind, that adhering to the model that the abovementioned individuals have doctored up for them, is the only way to survive.

People, this looks beautiful. Yes, it's violent, I get that. Just wait until your kids are asleep to play it. Set their bedtime earlier if you can't wait.

To those who want to see a revival of the utopia that was the Super Nintendo era, BUY House of the Dead: Overkill or Madworld, or The Conduit. Send the message that these games can sell on the Wii. People need to realize that if these games were on the Xbox 360 or PS3, none of this "killing simulator" talk, or complaints of excessive violence would be levied. But until these games can sell well, and provide a foothold for Nintendo as a company that can cater to the hardcore gamer once more, they will be forced to cater to their only other stable user base: Wii Fit users and Mario fans. Hurry, before all that's left is the Mario Party series and Wii Bowling: The Sequel.

Thoughts on Gamerscore/Trophies

Useless Tallying: A Look At the Broad Implications of Gamerscore/Trophies

In the past one would photograph a screenshot of their high score, or have their friends huddle around the arcade box to verify their achievement. This act, unsurprisingly, served a dualistic purpose: it gave the player a sense of well-defined superiority and achievement (to whatever extend joystick twiddling and button mashing is capable of providing such) in turn; it also provided the arcade industry with additional revenue from those other gamers who now had an impetus to lighten their load of pocket change for a shot at the title. Gamers (or arcade monkeys, or whatever one called them back in the early 90s) effectively paid to maintain an effective form of competition, exempting Seinfeld’s “Frogger” episode, of course.

These days, with most games offering free online leaderboards, and Nintendo, Microsoft, and Sony each offering their own online head-to-head competition services (though with marketedly varying degrees of success), one has to ask why the concept of the Gamerscore/Trophy system exists, just what its actual serviceable function is, and why it has caught on, along with perhaps some darker marketing motives surrounding it. Microsoft? Dark marketing motives? Not possible. The logic behind it is simple: complete a certain act/beat a level, find a hidden item, play the game while telekinetically manipulating the controller with one’s mind, and you’ll be allotted a certain amount of Gamerscore, the amount of which is usually approximate to the difficulty of the task. Beating the single player campaign of a game should “net” one more points than, say, leveling up for the first time. These achievements also extend themselves over to the multiplayer aspects of the game, both online and offline, as well as co-op and competitive modes.

However, there are problems with this seemingly transparent system. To begin with, Gamerscore is a highly problematic method by which to evaluate one’s “abilities.” In an arcade setting, one’s ability could be checked by monitoring how much allowance money was slipped into the coin slot of an incessantly sedentary lifestyle, functioning as a de-facto “handicapping” of sorts. In this day in age, where “gaming get-togethers” are a thing of the past, this system is impossible. I can tell that you’ve managed to beat the seventh level of Turok, but I have no way of telling how many tries it took you, the strategy you used, or if you found outside help in the form of a guide book, GameFAQs, or simply handing over the controller to a more competent friend. If one of your achievements boasts that you managed to beat Prince of Persia, there is no way of telling if it took you twelve hours or twenty-four. If we are to understand Gamerscore as a system for logging personal achievement, without comparison to that of others, perhaps there is some validity to the system. However, this is not how I would argue most gamers see it.

The online component is fraught with even more difficulties. A large amount of achievements are “rigged” via Xbox Live or GameFAQs message boards. A cursory glimpse at any popular game’s board will find dozens of posters begging for other players to help them in picking up some achievements, which otherwise, if faced with a truly competitive opponent, might be a trying experience. Whereas offline/campaign modes were honest, just lacking the specifics of how one went about it, the acquisition of many online achievements has been done in a blatantly dishonest manner, that all we are left with is the lauding of pseudo superiority. Again, this is not to demand something as ridiculous as “gamerscore reform,” but merely to incite one’s pondering on the valuation of such a concept.

Gone are these days...though part of me doesn't miss those annoying grubby little children, peering over your shoulder, trying to instruct one clearly twice their age on how to play Street Fighter 3.

With the competitive/comparative element of Gamerscore dismantled, I turn to the functional element. If we are, quite simply, to view Gamerscore points or trophies as something we are given, the natural inclination is to ask just what we are to do with such. Can a high enough Gamerscore unlock hidden content in a game, induct a gamer into some “Gold level” club of Microsoft, or, quite simply, be used to purchase themes, demos, gamerpics, etc? The answer to all of these is an unequivocal NO. The logic on Microsoft’s part is understandable, though. If I rent or borrow Forza Motorsport 2, and my friend purchases the game at full retail price, Microsoft has no motivation to reward us in an equal fashion. Microsoft is a company, and a company’s job is to reward its consumers/purchasers, those who understand that it is all about the “dolla’ dolla’ bill, y’all.” Now, granted, Microsoft is the sort of company that can afford to take a hit (just look how long it was before the Xbox division’s earnings weren’t drowning in red ink) so perhaps this is excusable. Or, alternately, perhaps copies of games could be registered so that the individual that purchased it would be the one to get the reward. The bottom line is that if Microsoft is/was genuinely concerned with providing some viable reward, they’re going to have to eliminate the “free lunch” that it would currently be promoting, in one method or another.

Aside from the problematic issues of just what Gamerscore can really tell us, and the non-functionality of it promoting any true rewards system, one must evaluate the sociological implications of Gamerscore, how it influences what games we buy, how we play them, and how achievements are incorporated into the game. Whether we like it or not, for many of us, Gamerscore influences the purchases we make. I have friends that don’t play online much, and thusly avoid titles like Halo 3 where a large amount of the achievements surround online play. Others will avoid a game if they hear that the achievements are “stingy” or require a lengthy amount of playthroughs to get the full set. On the opposite end of the spectrum, many people are frequently asking to borrow my copy of Phantasy Star Online, in which one can acquire all 1000 points by simply defeating all of the bosses in the single player campaign. Avatar: The Last Airbender is even easier, with an exploitable glitch that allows one to acquire all 1000 in a matter of mere minutes. While it may not be the main reason why we purchase a game, it can act as a deciding factor for those “on the fence.”

If you want to "finish the [achievement] fight" for Halo 3, you're going to need an online account, and infinite patience for the unmonitored pre-teens whose parents have replaced the babysitter with Xbox Live.

Other friends I know get a list of all of the achievements in a game, and proceed to play according to the list’s demands, while going through a game. It’s like a microcosm of the “walkthrough” or game guide. Instead of telling us where to go, and what to do, it advises or prefers certain play styles, gameplay methods, goals or objectives that would seem contrary to normal play. And while some shape their initial playthrough in this fashion (thereby aiming all who choose to do so towards a fairly unitary gaming experience) for others this is a convenient way to guide one's replay of the title, or, in fact, merit that second playthrough in the first place. Indeed, we must view achievements as "padding" for some developers, an attempt at giving the player that extra "push" to continue playing a game they would otherwise put down. With some games, this is unproblematic, a method for making an amazing game even more so. With less..."notable" titles, forcing the player to amass a profane amount of money, or beat a lackluster title on a half-dozen difficulty settings is indeed "padding." With the cost of launch title next-gen games up 20% from the last generation, and gameplay hours consequently becoming a vaunted measure of success (which is problematic in its own right) padding is necessary, and Gamerscore is an easy way of achieving such.

Equally problematic are developers that handle the Gamerscore system in a detrimental manner that hurts the remainder of the title. For example, some developers leak plot points or bosses on the achievement list. Nothing quite ruins a plot, like discovering that your party member is going to inevitably betray you, when looking up how many points you got for killing 500 enemies. Developers need to list these achievements as "secret" those that will inevitably unlocked throughout the course of the game. Other developers are simply sloppy and assign most of the achievements to online activities, or requiring second or third playthroughs, or playing on mindbendingly hard difficulty levels to achieve them. Again, I'm not saying I support the achievement system outright, but that, if it must be, the implementation is problematic. I shouldn't be given points simply for watching the first cutscene of Prince of Persia, nor should I find two-thirds of an achievement list locked off from me because I don't have a Gold account.

Some achievements require hours and hours of unnecessary work. This one requires pressing "Start" at the menu screen.

What is perhaps the most problematic about Gamerscore/Trophies? They've always induced a certain amount of Pavlovian glee in me whenever that little sound effect goes off, and that small circular box at the bottom of the screen informs me that I've done something "right." I know they're bad for me, that they shape the way I play, the way I buy, the way I think about myself and others as gamers. But some part of me still finds them alluring. They're the "junk food," the Lays of the gaming world...I just can't stop.

This pretty much says everything.

Bargain Bin Column

Bargain Bin Column (Director's Cut)

If I asked you to come up with several prominent sectors of the economy disrupted by the recession, you’d probably list off the housing market, the auto industry and the Wall Street meltdown. However, I would also go out on a limb to suggest that the electronics industry/video games weren’t anywhere to be found on this proverbial list of yours. Yet it doesn’t take much research to discover that not all’s well in the world of portly plumbers and princesses. Perhaps the most mainstream example comes in the form of Circuit City’s filing of Chapter 7 bankruptcy no more than two weeks ago. As much as many of us thought of the institution as Best Buy’s little brother that harbored a severe inferiority complex, one cannot help but worry that perhaps Best Buy has a little less of an incentive to provide deals, with its main competitor out of that way and all.

But that’s not all. Microsoft recently laid off 1,400 individuals in its Entertainment and Devices division and EA handed 1,000 of its employees pink slips and closed their in-house studio Black Box (responsible for the recent Need For Speed: Underground, along with other recent series entries). It also appears that “the house that Madden built” is suffering a “curse” of its own, as it also reported a $310 million dollar loss in the previous business quarter, its rivals Activision and THQ hardly faring any better at $108 million and $115 million dollar losses, respectively. This is still a preferable alternative to several of the smaller independent development studios like Factor 5 (of Rogue Squadron fame) and Free Radical (Timesplitters series) that have been forced to shut down outright. With frugality being an understandably prominent theme of the times, I figured I’d utilize the remainder of this article’s space to assist my fellow gamer in listing several affordable alternatives to the 50-60 dollar price tag of recent releases for consoles.

First off are multiplatform (for both PS3 and Xbox 360…and sometimes for Wii) titles. Many gamers are aching to get their hands on EA’s pants-wetting masterpiece Dead Space, which I reviewed back in October. Problem is, despite above average sales and stellar reviews, Dead Space has refused to “undock” from its launch price. Instead, I’d advise those seeking a moody and atmospheric shooter with amazing visuals and an equally stellar plot to remove their gaze from the stars above and place it firmly on the watery depths below…of Bioshock. This masterpiece of art deco and H20 is only $30 dollars on the Xbox 360, while the more recently released PS3 port is still hovering around $40.

Now, if you still want a great “narrative FPS” with a little bit of everything on the side, and a multiplayer option to boot, one could not do better than The Orange Box. Just what is inside the box? Calm down, Brad Pitt, only Half Life 2, Half Life 2: Episode 1, Half Life 2: Episode 2, the multiplayer extravaganza Team Fortress 2, and the freakishly frustrating puzzles of Portal. Considering that the assorted contents would have cost at least upwards of a hundred dollars bought separately, the meager price of an Andrew Jackson is more than reasonable. Sharing the 20 dollar price tag and an affinity for all things C4-able is EA’s Battlefield: Bad Company, a place-holder for the two most recent Call of Duty titles that more than holds its own against Activision’s flagship franchise. Imagine a more sandbox-style CoD with an emphasis on vehicles of all sorts where 92% (actual statistic) of the game can be exploded, for a third of the price. Throw in witty banter, a genuine sense of camaraderie with your three squad mates in Bad Company, and some of the best visuals found in an FPS, and Call of Duty might find itself being served walking papers as the king of military FPSs. Oh, and it also serves as an affordable upgrade (contradiction, it is not) to the flagrantly overpriced Mercenaries 2.

RPG junkies afraid that they’ll have to wait for a post-apocalyptic future before Fallout 3, Fable 2, or Valkyria Chronicles (the PS3’s only claim to RPG-dom) slash their prices have viable alternatives as well. 360 owners can find sci-fi solace in Bioware’s action RPG masterpiece, Mass Effect, which is only twenty. Those in the mood for a more Japanese style RPG with gravity defying hairstyles and turn based combat would do well to pick up Lost Odyssey for the 360, only thirty dollars. PS3 fans would be advised to dust off the PS3’s RPG-laden older brother, the PS2, unless you happen to have one of the few backwards-compatible models. Persona 3 and 4 and the recently released Kingdom Hearts: Re Chain of Memories are excellent, budget-price RPGs, and for those still holding out on the current generation of consoles, are an excellent way to get a little more mileage out of Sony’s nine year old system.

For Wii owners, admittedly, it is hard to find quality titles, let alone reasonably priced ones. Throw in the fact that Wii games launch price is ten dollars lower than the other consoles, and there’s even less of an incentive to lower prices. Nonetheless, I picked my brain and have three affordable Wii titles to recommend. For starters, if you never played Resident Evil 4 on the PS2 or Gamecube, the Wii version is easily the best of the three. Sporting slightly touched up visuals, all of the bonus content from the PC, PS2, and Gamecube versions, and an unparalleled control scheme, those looking for an eerie, action-packed romp through the Spanish countryside could not do better. Zelda fans should find a comparable adventure in Okami, Capcom’s tale of Amaterasu, the sun god of Japanese mythology. Its visuals resemble traditional Japanese artwork, and, again, the decent control scheme on the PS2 has been much improved on the Wii. Finally, those looking to take advantage of the Wii Zapper should find House of the Dead 3 and 4 a splendid throwback to those arcade days of old.

Of course, this is a very cursory list, and those who are really, really set on a title, and have the patience to wait a few more months, should probably do exactly that. This list is moreso for those looking to try something new, or simply are waiting for an affordable “fix” until Resident Evil 5, like myself. In addition, if anyone desires more advice on games to purchase, feel free to send me an e-mail at nicholasbwhite@gmail.com.

The Force Unleashed Review

Hey all, my review of The Force Unleashed was supposed to be in Kalamazoo College's "Week 2" issue of The Index. Instead, due to some planning/executive decisions, it has found its way into the third week issue. That being said, I've decided to give all my blog fans (is there a term, or some sort of jargon for a "blog fan?") this entry first. A blog nut? A blog groupie? Do blog groupies exist? I'm not certain I've ever heard of anyone getting hot and bothered over a blog, so I doubt it. Anyway, the point is this, I'm throwing the review up on my blog first. I mean, to be fair, I did let the Index have the option of "premiering" it, and they wanted to wait a week. So, to give an incentive to my online readers, you guys get this first. I haven't taken the time to extensively edit this, but considering it has a more "free" bloggy style than my more formalist stuff, it's probably fine.

So, without further ado, here's the review: (accompanied, as par usual, by my pics and not funny captions:

For the past decade or so, Star Wars films and video games have shared one distinct similarity aside from their subject material: endorsing the principle that just because a franchise continues to spew out installments at a frenetic rate is not proof that the quality and integrity of the franchise is intact. In recent years Star Wars fans have not only been forced to watch Hayden Christensen get paid to make expressions only severe constipation and/or childbirth can induce. They’ve also had to put up with such downright putrid games as Force Commander, Super Bombad Racing, and Obi-Wan that huddling up to one’s neck in tauntaun guts for warmth seems preferable to playing them.

In fact, the few and far between occasions when Lucasart’s titles fell between “above average” and winning “Game of the Year” awards occurred when they handed over the development reins to third-party studios. The Battlefront series was developed by Pandemic, Traveler’s Tales handled Lego Star Wars, and Bioware created one of the best games ever in Knights of the Old Republic. Lucasarts is slowly coming to terms with that fact that if they handle the distribution, marketing, and funding, and leave the actual design and development to someone else, all’s well in George Lucas’ money pit. Perhaps at this point you’re wondering just who Lucasarts put in charge of The Force Unleashed. The unfathomable answer is…Lucasarts. And did Lucasarts at least wisely place the game’s events eons before the dreadful prequel trilogy like Knights of the Old Republic did? Nope, the game’s events act as a de-facto bridge between the “new” and “old” films.

Starkiller, meet your employer, Mr. Vader. He really doesn't take failure for an answer, and always has someone ready to take your place. That being said, he runs a tight ship.

Rather than put you in the shoes of a beloved Star Wars character, Force Unleashed has you donning the Jedi robes of Darth Vader’s secret apprentice known only as “Starkiller.” Playing as Vader in the prologue level, you discover this apprentice as a mere toddler in a hunt for one of the few remaining Jedis on Kashyyyk, the Wookie homeworld. Something in Vader’s heavily mechanized heart causes him to start a Big Brother-esque program for orphans of the great Jedi purge, and he takes the youth on as his own. Of course, there’s more in a father-sith relationship than flying kites, playing catch, and channeling your hate to strike down people in cold blood. You’re tasked with taking on covert missions to root out some of the remaining Jedi, as well as running some errands Vader expects to be kept “under the radar” of Emperor Palpatine. As par for the course with one’s traditional Star Wars narrative, the notion that you will irrevocably adhere to the tenants of the “Dark side” for the entirety of the game is questionable, to not give too much away. Let us not forget that even the dark lord himself had a “change of…mechanized life support.”

And to think, all that Stormtrooper ever wanted to do was fly. But probably not through an airlock. Or down into that hole. Or smack dab into that TIE Fighter. Or right into his fellow trooper. Or...umm...did I mention all the evil things one can do in this game?

In terms of the gameplay, the emphasis on The Force is to be commended. Many of the abilities we’ve all come to love from the movies are here: force lightning, shoving people with the Force, even Vader’s esophagus-crushing tactics. The only thing left out is the ability to inform people that “these aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” While the controls aren’t entirely intuitive and have a small learning curve, it isn’t to the point of hurting the title. What is harmful is that despite Starkiller’s unlockable moves and upgradeable abilities one never reaches a point of being disturbingly powerful. Near the end of the game almost everyone appears to have the Kevlar equivalent for lightsabers and many shrug off the Force like it’s a brisk wind. Now it’d be one thing if one was a wussy Jedi who wanted to sit around and levitate and train in swamps with oversized gremlins in my knapsack, but when one is a Sith, one expects overwhelming brutality. Instead, one is forced to take on a handful of enemies that have somehow spent their free time in woodshop class constructing lightsaber-resistant armor and personal force fields that can withstand my intention to turn them into piles of smoldering ash, along the lines of Uncle Owen and Aunt Breu’s demise. It of course makes one wonder why the Rebellion didn’t utilize such technology against Vader, but that is a different argument altogether.

Big plus about this game? There's no real question over "who shot first" with this relative of Greedo's. (Yes, I know he's a Rodian, but I assumed most of my readers aren't that obsessed with Star Wars)

The Force Unleashed finds redemption in the excessive production values of the title, greatly attributed to the fact the Industrial Light and Magic had their own branch within the studio. The Force powers look downright amazing and the Havok physics engine powering these effects only adds to the believability of your abilities. However, what really stands out are the character models, especially their facial animation mapping and lip synching. One can tell the motion capture techniques for this game are first rate, on par with Half-Life 2: Episode Two, if not an actual improvement. All of the cutscenes were fully motion captured with the actors who contributed their voice and likeness (instead of having everyone recite their lines in a recording booth by themselves, hoping their performance would look believable in the end product), and the performances have arguably set a new standard for what should come to be expected from acting in video games. Samuel Witwer’s (best known as “Crashdown” on Battlestar Galactia) performance as Starkiller is particularly nuanced and offers layers of emotion Hayden Christensen could only hope for.

The uncertainty of knowing whether or not stormtrooper armor is a good conductor of electricity didn't stop me from attempting the above.

Overall, The Force Unleashed is best compared to a summer blockbuster film: big budget, impressive special effects, large ensemble cast, all contributing in creating a sequel to a decidedly bankable franchise. Alas, all the money in the world can give a title legs, but it cannot ensure that it has a heart. While the production values are unparalleled, the storyline (much like the level design) suffers from being overly linear. Despite being handed a multitude of fancy lightsaber combos and flashy force powers at the outset, you will find yourself button mashing only two or three for the latter half of the game, as the rest become entirely ineffective against heavily shielded foes. Simply put, choosing to cram the tale between the third and fourth films severely constrained the writer’s plot options, making the protagonist’s fate predictable, if not inevitable. Still, The Force Unleashed stands as the best Star Wars game since Knights of the Old Republic (though the competition for such a title isn’t entirely cutthroat). Its an enjoyable romp across an already well-trod galaxy, if one waits until the price drops to $30,otherwise, don’t say I didn’t warn you that…”IT’S A TRAP!”