I have put over 170 hours into Animal Crossing New Leaf. Those hours come from playing nearly every day, but I usually only pop in for a little bit at a time. I donít spend much time farming expensive bugs and sea life on the island, I donít time travel, I donít play the stalk market. I usually donít even check what items will earn my more money at Re-Tail each day. I do care about paying off my home renovations and finishing public works projects, but if I made that kind of thing my only focus the game would lose its fun for me.
What keeps me coming back, what earned those 170 hours from me, is the characters. Even when they repeat themselves, or repeat what another villager just said, I find them charming and hilarious. At one point, when I still had new fossils to find, I used to turn on the game every day to get my 4 fossils and take them to Blathers. Now my daily play sessions feel almost like a duty Ė I still get a lot of enjoyment out of it, but a big part of why I come back is the fear that somebody is going to move away. I need to be in the game and talk to everyone and scope out who might be thinking of moving, and then usually talk them out of it.
Sometimes, though, it canít hurt to get some new blood. When I hit 10 villagers I started thinking about who I could let leave. It was a tough decision, but eventually Charlise told me she was going to go off to fight turf wars (they fling real turf at each other!) in another town and I let her pursue that dream. Charlise was not one of my original villagers, but she moved in quite early and I was fond of her. But at the time, I considered her someone Iíd be willing to let go in the name of bringing in someone new. After much ceremony, including several pictures with her and planting a cherry tree (cherries are my townís native fruit) on the plot that was her house, I let her go. It was a bit more sentimental than I might have expected the end of a short virtual friendship to be, but in the end it was my decision and I was okay with it.
Itís strange to think that Iíve formed a real attachment to these characters. Iíve always been a bit of a sentimental person, but the animals in Animal Crossing are fairly repetitive and robotic in a lot of ways. They usually ask you to carry out the same tasks, tell you the same stories, ask you the same questions. But sometimes theyíll surprise you. Sometimes theyíll say something out of left field, or youíll manage to be in an instance of the context of a very context-sensitive bit of dialogue and theyíll say something youíve never seen before. Or maybe theyíll say something so silly, or so outright stupid, that itís completely adorable and you donít care that theyíre not real. These charming creatures make the game what it is.
For all the good surprises and unexpected delights, there are bad things that can sneak up on you too if youíre not careful. This is why I try to speak with my villagers every few days at worst. I have had close calls with favourites of mine and original residents of my town, like Lucha and Purrl, getting ready to move. One time I was tipped off by another villager that Purrl was thinking of moving in 3 days, and she absolutely would not mention it herself. I finally got it out of her the day before she would have moved, and hoped Iíd never have a close call like that again. Just a few days ago, Lucha informed me he was getting ready to move. I told him not to. What if I hadnít played that day? What if he had moved?
The next day, I got some similar news. Sprinkle, another one of my original residents, would be moving in 3 days. I tried to speak to her, but she was in her house. From my experience, you tend to only talk to characters about their moving plans if theyíre walking around town and they trigger the conversation with you. I tried talking to her about it, but she wouldnít mention it.
Since I do have a life outside of Animal Crossing, I didnít manage to play the next day. On Sprinkleís moving day, I loaded up the game and was informed by Isabelle that Sprinkle would be moving. This wasnít right. I didnít choose her to go. If I had to choose who would leave next, Sprinkle would be low on the list.
I went to her birthday party.
She came to mine.
I tried to talk her out of it, but it was too late. I even hit up Google to see if itís even possible to talk a character out of moving at this point, and apparently it isnít. Instead of getting too upset about it, I talked to her as much as I could. I took pictures with her. She was wearing a frog tee, so I grabbed mine too. The next day, when her house became a vacant lot, I planted a perfect cherry tree where her house had been. I didnít want Sprinkle to leave, but she was gone.
Still, there is a silver lining. My girlfriend plays New Leaf more than I do, and has had a much higher churn of residents in her town. A few months ago, she started seeing her old ones come to visit. Up until today, I had never had that happen. But Charlise showed up on my main street today. It turns out Sprinkle was the last emigrant I needed in order to start seeing old residents come to visit. Hopefully Iíll see her again soon.
The amazing part of all of this is that Animal Crossing New Leaf is just a video game. I can stop playing whenever I want and it will eventually cease to matter to me. But for now, it does matter. Itís one of my relaxation rituals. Itís part of how I bond with my girlfriend. The silly animals in my town can cheer me up if Iím having a bad day, and losing a favourite feels like a real loss.
As in life, change in Animal Crossing can be bitter sweet. I lost a friend. A jolly penguin that always had a nice thing to say, and never believed me when I said her house was nice. But I still have those memories, and those pictures. She might come to visit now. Like many important transitions in life, this one was out of my control. This opens the door for new possibilities that are also out of my control, and that can be kind of exciting.
I played this game in a single day with two friends, and I would suggest this setting for optimal enjoyment. We had fun piecing together clues and puzzles together, and taking turns at the running sequences. It was the same kind of vibe you get watching a horror movie with a group - the scares are scarier, the stupid parts are funnier. All in all, a good way to play it. Oh, and I had never played a Silent Hill game before.
The †game itself was actually a fair bit better than I expected. I was the primary pilot for our little group, with the others choosing to observe most of the time and only really took over when I needed a break. The graphics are pretty fantastic for a PS2 game, which is a nice side effect of it coming out in 2010. It knows what it can do, and it pulls off an appealing art style.
The game was originally released on Wii, so I feel like it's safe to deduce that the graphics were downgraded a little bit for the PS2 port. There are also some moments that were clearly designed with the Wii in mind, but the PS2 controls do a good job of proving that these moments were superfluous at best. Unscrewing a panel by pointing at the screws isn't exactly enthralling stuff, but it doesn't really take away from the experience either.
I enjoyed the story, and found the therapy sessions in between chapters to be a nice touch. Exploring the world was the most enjoyable part of the game, with chase sequences adding a bit of intensity at different intervals. The chase scenes start to wear thin eventually, but by that point you're into the fantastic ending sequence and it doesn't matter anymore.
The Stanley Parable (PC)
This game presents an interesting idea and pulls it off well. You essentially navigate the game's first-person world as you see fit, choosing to either listen to or ignore the narrator as you see fit. Each run through the game is fairly short, but if you're anything like me you'll aim to find every possible path.
An important part of the game is the writing, and while the narrator is generally amusing there were a number of moments that fell flat for me. Still, there were a few very clever sequences that I'll probably remember for a long time.
There isn't really much gameplay here, but there's enough going on that I felt engaged... most of the time. There are a few moments that force you to wait around and listen to some narration or wait for something to happen. Though few and far between, these types of moments made repeated playthroughs a bit more annoying.
Regardless of everything, The Stanley Parable was an interesting little experiment in narrative and progression. The game found within the experiment is decent, and a few moments of true brilliance shine amid other moments that don't quite hit the mark.
SteamWorld Dig (3DS)
Side-scrolling action games have seen a resurgence in recent years, and games with any sort of mining theme are continuing to push their way into the market the wake of MineCraft. So it's only natural that a game other than Terraria would come along and combine the two. The execution here is sound, opting for a use of non-linear level design over total random-generated freedom.
Though overwhelming at first, you'll soon find yourself exploring the mostly-destructible world with ease. Jumping up any wall makes moving a breeze, and money you earn from mining is used to purchase upgrades that help you progress further and further into mine. Some of the limits placed on you can make progression move slowly, but the game feels so nice to control that I didn't really mind having to backtrack to a way to escape to the surface. It did get annoying at times though, especially if you're like me and turn back every time your inventory of minerals fills up so you can sell them off and buy upgrades.†
While it's easy to move around and progress through the mine, the game will make you pay if you don't think about what you're doing. Though frustrating at first, I soon came to appreciate the game's ruthlessness. It's never unfair, and really it's not even particularly hard, but it doesn't cut you any slack. You learn the game's rules, you learn how to deal with the enemies, you learn what will kill you. You have to, or you'll die. It ramps up nicely, though I did find that the second half of the game got easier as it went.
Overall, SteamWorld Dig feels like what could have been a successful game in the heyday of the GameBoy Advance. In 2003, this game could have been selling in stores for $40 and it would have been a good purchase. In 2013, it launched on the 3DS for considerably less and it's worth every penny. Though not a perfect game, I found enough to like that I have no problem recommending this game to anybody that can appreciate a good 2D action/adventure title.
The yoshi is a strange creature. It is, by appearances and by most accounts, a type of dinosaur. It is at once malevolent and carnivorous, seemingly choosing to align itself with an intelligent creature before gladly eating whatever other creatures its masters choose for it. Despite widespread awareness and visibility of this interesting species, little is known about its actual biological functions. It is possible that by studying the yoshi, we may also gain a better understanding of how dinosaurs of the past functioned and behaved.
One of the key characteristics of the yoshi genus is the long, sticky tongue. Similar to a frogís tongue, it allows yoshis to reach out and capture prey from afar. However, given the size of a yoshi and the size of their prey, the use of an adhesive tongue is truly remarkable. Frogs are small creatures that use their tongues to capture insects, while yoshis use their tongue to capture and consume various breeds of reptile, some insects andÖ whatever the hell type of animal goombas and shyguys are. Yoshis are also known to enjoy various types of fruit, and are actually seen to show a preference for fruit when living by their own means. For this reason, some researchers believe that they actually prefer fruit and consume other creatures only in defence of their human companions or in acts of hostility when under human control.
Another interesting facet of the yoshi biology is their ability to produce eggs. It seems that most yoshis are able to produce eggs, and it is currently unknown if this is a function of their reproductive system. If it is, and in all other egg-producing creatures it would be, then either all known yoshis are female (meaning there is likely a small population of male ďstudĒ yoshis that impregnate large groups of female yoshis) or the yoshi as a species is asexual. There seems to be a clear connection between the food consumed by a yoshi and the eggs it produces. There are even accounts of yoshis producing different extremely large eggs after consuming a particularly large prey. Given their rapid and seemingly at-will ovulation cycles, it is sometimes speculated that yoshis have an advanced digestive system that allows them to harness the nutrients of their food directly into egg production. The eggs also seem to have some sort of magnetic attachment to the yoshi that produced them. Little is known about how this functions, but it is a discovery that gives great insight into the possible nesting habits of other dinosaurs.
A stylized depiction of a yoshi getting ready to throw an egg, while mounted by an infant human.
However, there is a piece missing from the research around the ovulation and nesting habits of the yoshi. It is known that yoshis produce eggs, and it is known that yoshis hatch from eggs, but researchers have never seen an egg hatch after being laid by another yoshi. For this reason, some researchers have begun to speculate that the eggs laid by most yoshis are not actually eggs at all. Given the connection between digestion and egg production, the leading theory in this area is that yoshi ďeggsĒ are most often a waste product of the creatures. Yoshis have been witnessed using these pieces of matter as projectile weapons, but there is also speculation that they may lay them as decoys to prevent predators from discovering their nests and eating their young.
In some cases, yoshis have been known to possess almost super-natural abilities upon consuming certain species of turtles. Yoshis have been witnessed flying, breathing fire and greatly increasing their own mass. There also seems to be a direct connection between these abilities and the different colour variations found in yoshis. There is a sub-species of the yoshi, most often referred to as the Delfino yoshi, which can spit fruit juice over a great distance. Interestingly, this type of yoshi seems to be extremely adverse to sea water and will die almost instantly upon coming in contact with it. The Delfino yoshiís island habitat makes it a wonder that the sub-species didnít die out years ago from accidently falling into the sea. Not to mention the fact that they will only allow themselves to be born when bribed with fruit.
Despite the fact that full grown adult yoshis have been witnessed hatching directly out of eggs, there have reported cases of infant yoshis. Known for their great appetite, these yoshis will experience an accelerated form of puberty upon consuming enough food. In rare cases, these smaller yoshis have also been seen taking on various self defence mechanisms not found in adult yoshis. These include growing to a great size and allowing themselves to float (possibly to intimidate and/or escape from predators), produce bubbles that are capable of capturing other creatures (again, likely a self defense mechanism) and the ability to glow (this is likely to attract the attention of an adult yoshi, which may protect its young).
An artist's rendering of how a male "bull" yoshi, or "boshi" as some speculators have taken to calling it, may appear.
Yoshis have also been known to be susceptible to different biological experiments. Though widely discouraged, it has been found that yoshis are quite adept at taking on the characteristics of different vehicles when properly manipulated. It is now believed that the helicopter form achieved during experimentation would also have be possible with velociraptors, and great strides have been made in converting modern chickens into tiny digging machines.
The yoshi is a truly fascinating creature, and one that is incredibly unique in the modern animal kingdom. Despite its docile appearance and manner, it can sometimes be witnessed acting as a fierce predator. At the same time, its loyalty to humans is unmatched even in traditional companion animals such as dogs and horses. A yoshi will obey its rider without question, even if it means its own death. The abilities of the yoshi are remarkable, and certainly unprecedented in modern animals. However, there has been some recent evidence that the compsognathus may have also thrown its eggs, and further speculation that it may have been a common habit among all bipedal dinosaurs.
Yoshis have been portrayed in many video games, including the upcoming Yoshiís New Island for the Nintendo 3DS.
I bought Shin Megami Tensei IV on a whim. Pre-ordered on a whim, actually, the same day I was purchasing Fire Emblem: Awakening. At the time, if you bought Fire Emblem: Awakening and SMTIV, you got a $30 credit on the Nintendo eShop. I knew I wanted FE:A, I knew I wanted a few eShop games. So, I justified buying the fourth entry in a series I knew almost nothing about based on the fact that it was ďonlyĒ costing me $20.
Actually, all things considered, I probably shouldnít have expected to like the game very much at all. My only previous exposure to the Shin Megami Tensei series is my copy of the original Persona for PSP. A game I couldnít get into. I found the dungeon crawling a bit bland, and the depth in the game was overwhelming to me. Plus I wasnít specifically fond of the Japanese high school setting. Basically, at least from what I played of it at the time, it just wasnít for me.
So then, why did I even bother with SMTIV? Iím still not sure. I think it was partially the eShop promotion, partially the fact that the initial shipment were all collectorís editions, partially the fact that I assumed it was a $40 game and shrugged off the fact that it was actually a $50 game. There were also rave reviews, and a SMT-loving friend beside me pre-ordering the same game.
So, I gave the game a shot. Somewhere between Animal Crossing: New Leaf, Fire Emblem: Awakening, Pokemon Y and The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds, I put a few hours into Shin Megami Tensei IV. I had read and listened to all the cut scenes so far, explored the opening dungeon, spent some time grinding, spent some time recruiting demons. The base mechanics were a bit foreign to me (I kept wondering when the other human characters were going to join my party), but the presentation was what I found the hardest to swallow.
Shin Megami Tensei IV[/i] is a game where a picture of your protagonist and a bunch of pictures of demons fight other pictures of demons. Cut scenes are pictures of characters with voices. Dialog with NPCs is usually unvoiced text boxes in front of tiny, blurry pictures in front of a blurry background. There are times when story events occur with nothing more than a paragraph of explanation in a dialog box. This is not what Iím used to getting from a JRPG. Not at all.
The first town you visit is essentially a series of menus. I found it all pretty underwhelming. Even the story and dialogue, while interesting, felt a little bit hokey to me. I think itís mostly the way the characters talk, trying to sound all formal and ďmedievalĒ (even though Iím pretty sure nobody ever talked like that). Meanwhile, I was trying to wrap my head around which demons are worth keeping, how I can recruit them and when and why I should be fusing them. The music was fantastic, and sometimes had me coming back just so I could hear the Aquila Statue Plaza theme. The game was starting to grab me, despite the way it looked.
Somewhere along the way, SMTIV got lost in the shuffle. I have too many games to play in general, but the 3DS specifically had a stellar 2013. Still, I put in 8 hours or so. I figured out that I liked the mechanics of the game, and decided I could probably live with the graphics. The story did manage to interest me, despite my eyes rolling every time anyone spoke, and the fact that the story was a slideshow of the same few pictures (fully voice acted, though). But it never felt like a priority to go back to it, and in all honesty the graphics were part of that.
Bravely Default came out. I played the demo, liked it a lot, and got a JRPG itch I knew the full version would probably be able to scratch. But I only have so much time, and only so much money. It didnít make sense to run out and buy Bravely Default when I have a perfectly good copy of SMTIV to scratch that itch. They may be very different games, but they both still let me visit a world filled with turn based encounters and dungeons to explore.
So I went back to Shin Megami Tensei IV. I was in the forest area near the start of the game, and couldnít remember which way to go. After a few minutes, and a few fights, I got my bearings and trudged on. I played through the story event in the forest, and things got interesting. It was an easy fight, I had been grinding a bit before I stopped playing months earlier and didnít really have any trouble at all. The game was just how I remembered and fairly seamless to jump back in to.
There was one difference though: the look of the game didnít bother me anymore. I donít know what it is, maybe just having time away from it then returning? Thatís the only thing I can think of. I no longer saw the single-image-demons as a single image. I saw it as a tool for your imagination. Like a picture from a Dungeons and Dragons book. It was starting to click.
The whole game, really, has a lot in common with a D&D campaign. Mechanically they donít share much, but you do have to use your imagination in SMTIV. It does some of the work for you, but there arenít many moments where you witness cinematic action or even any sort of animation that isnít just overlayed effects. You essentially need to use your imagination to picture what these battles may actually look like, what it might be like to actually walk through Mikado. Still, I was hoping for the game to eventually let me move around and explore in 3D.
ďDon't get discouraged by the early town navigation, which relies on menus.Ē Dale North wrote in his review for Destructoid. ďTrust me -- it really opens up in a big way.Ē With this in mind I continued on, coming across what is considered the first real boss battle in SMTIV. I died. I spent 2 hours leveling up my character and main demons. I still died. I figured out an element the boss was weak against, though, and that was what I needed. I needed to breed a demon at a high level (high for that point in the game) that had an elemental spell of the correct type. So I did, and the fight became easier. This was another ďclickĒ for me, learning where SMTIV differed from other RPGs. RPGs where weaknesses do matter, but theyíre rarely this make-or-break. Itís rare in other RPGs that you get completely annihilated if you donít make sure youíre doing the most efficient things. And the buffs! They matter this much in this game? He makes my accuracy drop and now I canít hit him at all? What?
So I learned. And Iím keeping on learning, even with 30 hours under my belt. The game requires some serious strategic thinking, and punishes you when you make mistakes. But with save-anywhere and the ability to buy your progress back (with in-game currency or Play CoinsÖ which I always have a lot of), it never feels like it wastes your time. Honestly, itís brilliant. I love it. Dale North may have overestimated how long it would take someone like me to look past the simple presentation, at least in this case, but his promise of a more open experience kept me motivated to push forward. Now I love the game mechanics so much, I donít think Iíd even care if it was all just menus. Maybe after I finish this game Iíll go back to that copy of Persona.
For my entire life, I have been fascinated by video game controllers. When I see a controller I've never used before, even if it's not plugged into anything, I need to pick it up and play around with it. I have always felt that the way a game controls is one of the most important aspects of game design, if not the most important. In most games, it is desirable for the interactive elements to be responsive, intuitive and satisfying. Using the input method available to provide the best experience to the player is important, and the best input devices for games take the gameplay experience into account.
Early on, game controllers were designed around specific games. The monstrous Telstar Arcade (pictured above) features Pong-style paddles, a steering wheel and a gun. †Soon enough, action games really caught on in the arcades, and the traditional joysticks and buttons of arcade cabinets became the norm. The earliest notably successful console, the Atari 2600, attempted to emulate the arcade experience as best it could. The standard 1-button-and-joystick controller couldn't quite hold up to the arcade experience, but it tried. This type of controller, with various improvements and variations, was generally the standard console game input for the next few years. It wasn't until the Nintendo Entertainment System that the game controller as we know it today was truly born.
Meanwhile, PC gaming was finding its footing. The keyboard as an input device has continued to see prominent use to this day, with very little variation. A device with around 100 buttons, especially one that many users are already familiar with, is incredibly versatile and can be used for a wide variety of play styles. Despite the universal nature of the keyboard, a handheld controller has its own advantages. It's small, it's simple, you can pass it to your friends. Many NES games didn't even really need to teach the user how to play. You only have so many options, so it made sense to just try all of them. A PC game can't really be designed this way, at least not without assuming users are familiar with genre conventions. The biggest disadvantage that a keyboard, and even a mouse and keyboard, have compared to a controller is that they are not made for games. They do work best for certain genres that originated and continue to thrive on PC, though. These genres, such as real time strategy games, first person shooters and western role playing games, are built around mouse and keyboard input. They have had a presence on consoles, but by most accounts do not control quite as well. Even amid the massive success of Halo and the console versions of Call of Duty, many gamers refuse to play first person shooters on any platform other than PC.
But there is a difference between PC input devices, as well as mobile phone inputs and other multi-purpose devices, and a controller. A controller is meant for games, and is designed around games. The NES controller, despite introducing some universal conventions, does not really do anything that keyboards couldn't do. But the form factor is specifically designed around games. In the post-market crash world of console games, inspiration was drawn heavily from the NES controller. Sega was the first notable competitor to borrow from Nintendo, with the Sega Master System's controller having a practically-identical form factor.
By the early 90s, it was clear that all of Nintendo's competitors were playing catch up. NEC's TurboGrafx 16 only had 2 main buttons. The Sega Genesis added a "C" button in addition to "A" and "B", giving it 3 main inputs instead of the 2 buttons of the NES. Then the Super NES added 4 more buttons, including shoulder buttons.
The difference here is that Sega seems to have been making an attempt to get the leg up on Nintendo with the Genesis. They were attempting to do what "Nintendon't", and maybe bring users closer to the arcade experience. The SNES, on the other hand, was arguable the first console controller to really attempt to bring something different to the table. It was clearly not emulating the arcade experience. Though functional for arcade ports, the idea of putting 6 buttons within easy reach made faithful ports of games like Street Fighter II very possible, the true strength of the SNES controller was what it brought to console-specific games.
The now-traditional diamond button format was unusual in 1991. This not only puts 4 face buttons within easy reach of each other, but also allows users to mentally arrange buttons better than they might with a row of buttons. The Sega Genesis later had a controller with 6 face buttons, as did the Sega Saturn, and while this setup works great for certain genres and is loved by many, the fact that it requires longer movements and different resting positions can lead to some level of player confusion. The SNES tends to not have this problem, and allows the user to forget about the controller and just enjoy the game. This type of control method cannot really be matched using a mouse and keyboard, and has allowed console games to evolve in a divergent direction. That said, the most notable innovation of the SNES controller was certainly the shoulder buttons. Shoulder buttons were very likely added to the SNES controller to account for the new "mode 7" graphical effect, allowing better control of direction during pseudo-3D segments. Sony and Sega used similar logic for including shoulder buttons on the PlayStation and Saturn (respectively), with Sony taking it a step further by including 4 shoulder buttons.
The introduction of 3D console games threw a wrench into the idea of the NES-inspired console controller. This was one of the most diverse console generations in terms of controller design. Sony's PlayStation controller was clearly inspired by the SNES controller, but the extra row of shoulder buttons did have a permanent impact on controller design and game design. Although they never really caught on in terms of 3D control, they did offer more options to the fingertips of users. Diverging farther and farther from PC and arcade games, the PlayStation's controller was made for console games.
Meanwhile, the Sega Saturn failed to be forward-looking in several ways. Sega was smart to fully embrace the CD, even if they were maybe a little bit early to the party, but they made the mistake of initially designing their console around being a strong 2D box. The 3D graphical capabilities of the Saturn suffered as a result, but taking it a step further, the controller was just not made for 3D. Shoulder buttons were added, but the 6-button layout of the controller's face was still clearly tailored to ports of arcade games. These types of games certainly had a market, especially in the 90's, and to this day the Saturn controller is regarded as one of the best controllers ever made. But it was not forward looking. It was not tailored toward the direction console games were headed, and it didn't really accommodate 3D games in any specific way. Shoulder buttons were added, but at this point that was the bare minimum.
With an analog stick present from day one, the Nintendo 64 embraced 3D games. Nintendo may not have embraced CD technology, and the N64 controller was not perfect (with a completely separate d-pad available almost as a safety net in case the 3D experiment didn't work), but Nintendo were incredibly forward looking in terms of game design. They went all-in with 3D games, and the Nintendo 64 controller was a key component of this new direction. Super Mario 64 was a revolution, and it absolutely would not have been possible with any other controller at the time. A keyboard and mouse couldn't pull it off. The PlayStation couldn't either, nor could the Saturn, the 3DO or the Jaguar (although they had a wealth of other problems that lead to a lack of success, it is interesting to note that the Jaguar and 3DO are both known for having terrible controllers).
The Saturn got an analog controller, the PlayStation got an analog controller. PC games got analog controllers. Sony's analog controller is notable for adding a second joystick, which has since become the industry standard. In fact, the modern idea of the controller is essentially the PlayStation's DualShock controller. It became such a standard, that the Dreamcast and GameCube suffered from having fewer buttons. Dreamcast, as cool as many of the games on the console were, did suffer quite a lot from having a limited controller. Although I wouldn't necessarily say the controller contributed to its demise, it would have been extremely hard for it to compete with the PS2, Xbox and GC with a dramatically lower number of buttons. While the GameCube controller is fantastically comfortable and works very well with Nintendo's own games, it is not nearly as utilitarian as the Dual Shock or even the original Xbox controller. When Sony attempted to reinvent the DualShock for the PlayStation 3, the backlash was so harsh that they reverted back to the old design (though to be fair, Sony in 2006 wasn't exactly hitting anything out of the park).
It was during the PS2's generation that the DualShock really established itself as the "standard". Microsoft did a great job of emulating (and, in the opinion of many people, improving upon) the universal nature of Sony's controller with their Xbox 360 controller, and even Nintendo in their post-Wii afterglow decided to embrace this type of controller with the Wii U. The simple fact now is that many console games assume there are 4 shoulder buttons, 4 face buttons and 2 analog sticks (that you can also push as buttons). To do anything else means less third party support, or ports that suffer from a lack of inputs (as seen on the GameCube). It has been interesting to see the idea of a controller go through iterations before settling on what many see as the "right" way to control most games (with genre-specific exceptions - such as arcade sticks for fighting games and instrument controllers for music games).
Emulating the DualShock is not the only option, though. The original Wii was an inventive reaction to the market's rejection of the GameCube. Nintendo decided not to compete on power, and instead introduced a new input method. In a way, this has always been what Nintendo has done. Input devices have been a huge part of the appeal of Nintendo consoles, and with the Wii's motion controls they appealed to an all new market. Games had to be built to function around this device, and allowed the Wii to introduce a number of new gameplay experiences.
Although I love the Wii U gamepad, I am a little bit disappointed that Nintendo didn't go all-in with motion controls. I can get traditional controller experiences elsewhere, and even though having a screen is nice, it does not fundamentally change gameplay. The Wii remote has its problems, but when it works well it provides something not found anywhere else. Even on the Wii U, Pikmin 3 controls best with Wii-style controls.
Nintendo's promotional images like this are one of the best things about the Wii.
The PS4 and Xbox One offer interesting evolutions of their predecessors' controllers. Both have ditched pressure-sensitive buttons (a standard feature for the past two generations that was barely utilized), both have improved their directional pads (surely a reaction to the resurgence of fighting games and 2D platformers), †and both have made attempts to tailor their analog sticks and triggers better towards shooters. Sony also chose to add a touch pad and take further steps to integrate motion controls into the controller (something they began with the PS3's "SIXAXIS" functionality), which could be seen as reactions to the mobile gaming and motion gaming. It is clear that the designs of past games, and a forecast of where game design is headed, were pivotal in designing both controllers.
Even PC gaming is starting to see control innovations, with Valve's upcoming Steam controller. The first standardized controller designed specifically to handle traditionally PC-centric types of games, by offering a handheld device that attempts to bring the accuracy and versatility of a keyboard/mouse setup to the couch.
For some reason, the controller scroll wheel never really caught on.
When the idea of Nintendo "saving" gaming in 1985 with the Famicom and NES comes up, it is not uncommon to hear somebody mention that PC gaming never died and still exists to this day. While PC gaming has brought many innovations and continues to be one of the best platforms to game on, I would not want to trade away the contributions that consoles have brought to game design. Without standardized console controllers, many key innovations would not have caught on. The analog stick, never mind dual analog sticks, would not be as ubiquitous as it is today. Action games that require rapid use of many buttons would not exist, nor would games that require managing several shoulder buttons. For better or worse, gaming would be completely different. Even amid talk of mobile gaming gaining ground on traditional games, it's important to remember how important controller design has been for game design. Taking it a step further, standardized controllers that are well designed are one of the most important muses for any game creator. Knowing that a large number of people have this controller allows game designers to truly embrace the input device and make the most of what it brings to the table. Even the best mobile games make great use of the inputs available by default. Mobile games that try to play like console games work best with optional controllers that most people don't have, and suffer for it. I look forward to a future filled with new consoles, not just PCs and phones, precisely because of the power of standardized controllers. I look forward to seeing new innovations in the years to come that capture new audiences and bring new experiences. This has always been the greatest strength of the console market, and one of its strongest appeals to this day.
For a very long time, I have given a lot of consideration to what may be considered the equivalent to the drama genre in video games. Although there is no real need to create film genre equivalents in games, it is interesting to consider how rare it is for a game to attempt to tell a story that does not involve player-driven violence or some other challenge component. Clearly I am not alone in this thinking, as an increasing number of games have been making important strides towards moving interactive storytelling forward. The quality of that storytelling, however, can vary greatly.
There are many cases of video games that have very well thought out stories, but very much remain video games in the classic sense. There are also an increasing number games allowing for player choices that have a real impact on the plot, giving a sense of weight to a number of decisions that are left up to the player. However, these games are typically grounded in the type of settings that allow for gameplay. An enemy to kill, collectibles to seek out, good endings. It is very telling that two of the most praised stories in recent years, the ones found in The Last of Us and The Walking Dead, are zombie stories. In many cases, games try to emulate Hollywood movies to the best of their ability, but when was the last time a zombie movie got any sort of serious critical praise? †Some developers, like Quantic Dream, like to make a film-like quality their focus above gameplay. In many cases, the entire effort misses the mark. The story isn't as good as a great film (or, let's be honest, a decent film) and the gameplay is kind of trite and almost unnecessary.
Going beyond Beyond Two Souls and its ilk, there are games that almost do away with gameplay entirely. The first of these that I played, something I was excited to play, is a game called Dinner Date. I sat down with Dinner Date expecting to experience something unique, and it did not disappoint in that regard. Despite the interesting core idea, a game about being stood up on a date, the execution leaves a lot to be desired. Well, actually, I'm really not sure what I'd desire from a game like Dinner Date. It's an interesting and valid experiment, to essentially ask players to live out a real-life situation. This sort of empathetic roleplaying is something I'd honestly love to see more of in games, actually. But the simple fact is that Dinner Date tells a linear story through a first person view, and you basically complete actions in the order it wants you to in order to advance through it. It has about as much gameplay as using the frame advance button on a DVD player, but it's far less intuitive.
But I'm not here to talk about gameplay. We're going to put gameplay aside for a minute. Dinner Date's story isn't all that interesting, either. Again, I feel that the idea of placing players in a real-life situation as an empathetic exercise is an interesting one. I love the idea of using this medium to really let players see things from another person's perspective. But the thing is, Dinner Date is just a guy in his apartment trying to pass the time until he gives up on the idea of his date ever showing up. There's also some introspective stuff and some smoking. I get that it's interesting to understand what a person in this situation is thinking about, but eventually he starts beating himself up over how much of a loser he is. At this point, he just seems like a miserable person in general and I stop sympathizing as much. I wouldn't show up to a date with him either.
The question often comes up over whether this type of game is really a game. Using the strict definition of the word "game" and what it means outside of video games? No, Dinner Date is not a game. But it is a video game. It exists within the sphere of video games, it was crafted the same way a video game would be crafted. The phrase "video game" has evolved beyond the literal definition and is now a colloquial term for "interactive entertainment thing programmed for some kind of computer". I guess.
So no, Dinner Date is not a game. But it is a video game and, for brevity's sake, I'll continue to refer to it as a game. I feel the same way about Dear Esther, a title I approached with so much hesitation and care that I refused to pay more than a couple of dollars for it. I knew it was probably something I should play, but I went in expecting to roll my eyes a lot. I didn't completely hate it, but this was another case of something with so little gameplay that the story just has to be great in order to stand up on its own. Dear Esther consists entirely of walking toward a destination while being narrated at. There are some pretty vistas, and I was genuinely amazed at the art direction inside the caves, but there just isn't anything that really drew me in to the story. It's a web of metaphors and similes, overly flowery and poetic without really presenting anything interesting or compelling. In that vein, a Shakespeare quote: "...it is a tale... full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing."
So, armed with my disdain for this type of game, I very hesitantly purchased Gone Home during a Steam sale. I had heard it was great, but people liked Dear Esther as well. Still though, I was interested in the 90's setting, especially the references to music and the riot grrrl subculture.
The first thing that struck me about Gone Home was how much it feels like a typical video game. There is no real challenge component, but the way you interact with the world is very similar to the way you might explore an environment in BioShock after clearing out some enemies (which shouldn't really come as a surprise considering the core group behind Gone Home worked on BioShock 2). †Still, this was clearly something different from what most people would expect from a video game. You're essentially given a house to explore, and the story unfolds gradually as you progress.
There is also an interesting contrast between the storytelling in Gone Home and the storytelling in Dear Esther. Gone Home doesn't simply tell the story at you. You experience objects and notes that relate to the story, and at certain key moments get a bit of narration that ties it all together. It's very well thought out and executed almost flawlessly. The story focuses on Sam, the younger sister of the player character, but I felt like I really got to know a lot about their parents at the same time. They felt like completely fleshed out and well realized characters, but you only ever see photographs of them and examine objects of theirs that are scattered around the house. We may be experiencing Sam's story primarily, but we also get to see Jan and Terry struggle with their sex life. All from a few pamphlets and a letter from a friend. Just the simple fact that you do have some agency as a player and can explore the house as thoroughly as you see fit elevates Gone Home to a level beyond "do what the game wants and get narrated at". It even has level design - you unlock bits of the house as you go and learn things about the family across distinct story beats. This gives you a sense of direction and a feeling like you're accomplishing something, even if all you're doing is picking up everything and trying not to miss any of the plot details. Even when narration does occur, it sounds like a teenage girl going through confusing times opening up to her big sister. It isn't melodramatic, it's not poetic. It feels very real, and it gives the story a real sense of emotional weight that Dear Esther was missing.
Gameplay that's compelling in and of itself has always been a draw for me, story be damned. It's rare that I can say story is a draw for me over gameplay, but I have continued to subject myself to experiments with interactive story telling anyway. After suffering through Dinner Date and Dear Esther, I am glad to have finally experienced something truly special in Gone Home. The story itself and the way it is presented are masterful. While the plot and setting are very atypical of video games, they are certainly worthy of being presented in an interactive format. In fact, I don't think this story would have been nearly as effective in a non-interactive medium. As a piece of interactive media, it let's the player explore the environment and experience the story at their own pace while gradually learning more about the characters. It also lets me drop family photos into toilets if I feel like it.