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When Left 4 Dead 2 launched, I wanted to play the game with a friend of mine whose preview of gaming mostly involved World of Warcraft, some Baldur's Gate Dark Alliance, and a hefty amount of God of War. Twitchy, cooperative, dual-stick shooting was obviously not a significant part of his repertoire, so we had some catching up to do. Since L4D2 used the Source engine, I decided to ease him into the mechanics by getting him started with Half-Life 2, which was rewarding and fun in and of itself, but not just in terms of playing the game.
It was fascinating to watch someone actually go through the process of internalizing a game for the first time, especially in a genre and/or engine where the controls and mechanics have become so conventionalized as to feel like second nature to me. I forgot how "raw" and immediate a new game experience can be, and how paradoxically immersive it can feel when everything is unfamiliar, clumsy, and potentially dangerous; like Gordon Freeman's slow disoriented stumble through the subway station and through queues leading to increasingly menacing locations, and the inevitable chase.
I think we've all undergone the process, to a more or less embarrassing extent. You move your physical body and head around, overcompensating for the lack of effect on the screen, physically jump at surprise events or sounds, feel that "gut cringe" when making a risky leap, point the camera/crosshairs at everything within your sight that may be a threat or point of interest. Most of these immediate, affecting reactions seem to fade as you internalize the rules of the game world and your interface to it becomes more transparent.
Experienced gamers tend to take that moment of "awakening" into a new game for granted as a transitional one. It can last for mere seconds until the basic controls are understood, or it can linger for the first few hours until mechanics are clarified. Players are made to feel that one's mastery of the game is commensurate with building an experiential filter to process the "real" elements of the game and push the rest into the background.
Designers have often considered this moment, or string of learning moments, to only fall within the scope of a tightly scripted tutorial phase, where the user is still cocooned from failure and allowed to internalize what was intended before moving on to the "real" stakes and engaging the player in the presumably higher registers of gaming: navigating narrative, decision-making, skill progression, character-building, tactics, etc.
But one could argue that those other registers of interaction can lose some of their immersive qualities when the player's attention and involvement have effectively become indoctrinated, or rather tutorialized, in "the way things are" in the game, or in what is foreground versus background information. There's something to be said for letting some of that background bleed back into the gameplay and keep the player engaged and exposed, to keep that sense of being thrown to the wolves.
Without this sense of exposure and risk, one finds conundrums such as in Modern Warfare 2, where details in the environment almost feel wasted when contrasted with the scope of the gameplay itself and the objects in the player's actual gaming foreground. Granted they do, as a gestalt, contribute to a sense of place, but that sense is mostly detached or running in parallel to the game being played.
Even moments where one can stop and appreciate the little details of an environment tend to occur in proscripted, safe pauses in the action, or brief lapses of attention to the "real" game. But why frame this form of appreciation in what amounts to smelling the roses, rather than making it a key component of the foreground that one *needs* to understand, to process as a game object that needs to reckoned with if one wants to continue playing?
Why not force the player to pay this sort of attention for the duration of their engagement with the game, without clearly staging safe spaces in which to appreciate it? Or if one needs a safe place to digest a piece of narrative or "drink in" a location why not force the player to create and assess that safe place for themselves?
BioShock does this quite well, where the locale alternates between being the point of focus, the set piece, and being a trove of information one returns to plunder after neutralizing various threats.
Demon's Souls goes so far as to adopt an "unreliable narrator" approach to the game world, where the player is constantly double-guessing the cues in her environment, always gauging the safety of a given location, the maneuverability and weight of her equipment, the good faith of the player who left a message scrawled in some godforsaken corner of the world promising "treasure ahead." Even the safety of the Nexus itself comes into question at later points in the game. It all adds up to a tremendously oppressive sense of place and makes the player "earn" the safety to appreciate it from anything other than a pragmatic, survivalist sense.
I don't necessarily think that such an experiment in death by exposure would always guarantee a better game, and in some cases wouldn't even be applicable. Who would want a competitive FPS where the environment was a constant menace or liability? Most people who play those games look for that quality in their human opponents. They don't need the playing field to be an active threat.
But we're beginning to see more games extending that sense of environmental unreliability and opacity into their foreground to great effect. It doesn't always require a complete rewrite of the premise or mechanics either. Basic changes like the torrential downpours and flooding in the Heavy Rain stage of L4D2 introduce this concept to fantastic effect, making you feel simultaneously helpless yet determined to carve out a safe path with the tools and skills your team has already acquired.
It's not necessarily game-changing, but it's palpably player-changing, and I really hope we see more of these moments in future games.
Yeah, this definitely does seem to be the next big thing in multiplayer games... and it's actually pretty cool that you have to deal with environmental issues in addition to competing against other players. Killzone 2 did this on one of their map packs by having a two moving trains as the map... to get from one train to the other you have to jump, while avoiding the pillars in between that whiz by. If you are on top of the train you have to watch for overhead lights that whiz by - often knocking you off the train and killing you. It's pretty cool and the sense of speed is definitely there... and yes, the environment killed me quite often (though it's uber cool to be in a gun fight with someone and lead them left knowing a light will kill them because they're not paying attention... and then ducking at the last minute while you watch them get hit!). They also have a map with a nuke that randomly goes off and everyone has to seek shelter when they see the bright white flash of light. Both teams often try to shelter in the same building leading to fun situations.
UT3 also did this years ago. It released with a cool sandstorm map where a sandstorm would randomly whip up limiting visibility... usually the best time to go for the flag!
Personally I really like the added map challenges of environmental issues and hope this trend continues without getting too gimmicky.
I think most games would benefit from this sort of increased emphasis on environment, integrating it with the enemies. We like to kill enemies, as gamers, but we like to do it in a place where it feels natural and important (like was caused in Demon's Souls, and HL2, and Bioshock, though I'd argue Bioshock achieves that effect, similarly, through smoke and mirrors rather than the enemies really being bad dudes).
I'm not asking for co-op and multiplayer maps that are so dynamic that they are absolutely lethal.
I just think these 'fire drill' or 'revolving crescendo' modes in maps add a bunch of fun to play, provide new animations and effects.
I like when FPS or third person becomes a game of frogger as well.
I seek out games that have co op and MP dynamic maps exactly like heavy rain.
when the map involves leaping trains from truck to truck,
skydiving plane to plane,
running across a collapsing structure,
rifts and gullies formed by earthquake,
sewers that can offer faster travel but also have periodic flash floods, slow you down, carry you away, constrict and finally kill
snow and sand drifts and storms.
rain and wind
With dynamic particle engines, smoke fog and light pollution
the obscured vision and senses of having to wear a gas mask
the bomb siren that makes you seek shelter from a scorching blast
Some things have been done, but there is plenty of stuff that has not been done and since we all think our platforms are so Frankenstein monster powerful I have to wonder what besides effort is holding back developers from putting their competition to shame by having dynamic multiplayer maps?
In summary - static maps are doodoo stinks!
In a competitive FPS, I can understand the reduction of gameplay to min/max optimization really. A logical extreme here would be the 2-D beat 'em up, where the game is 100% mechanics. The art of the game at that point lies in how it's played; how the tools are interpreted and used.
What's strange is when some games with a very tightly defined gameplay scope and mechanic will put a ton of development into other aspects of the game, aiming to reinforce a sort of immersion through accumulation of detail. This is starting to increasingly feel like wasted resources to me. It feels like reading a poorly written fantasy novel where every aspect of the world is painstakingly described to the smallest detail, but larger aspects of the plot and unfolding of the narrative are cliche or pastiche.
It's refreshing to see games striving to re-inject some sense of instability in the player and break down some of the "scripts" that long-time gamers have started to implicitly program into their experience of a game world. At the risk of sounding cheesy, it brings some of the wonder back, and I enjoy that very much.
Half Life 2 did a great job I think with realizing that the player fades out the background. They did this by making some of the details in high paced areas, where they knew you would not spend much time, very plain and basic. Then when you reached areas where they wanted you to focus your time on exploring and enjoying the world they added immense amounts of detail and character. I also felt that they, in some cases, gave the player the illusion that the environment was not safe until the player made sure it was. This effect wore off after I had played through the game many times. It came to my realization that they were staged, but staged in a way that you didn't know this was a "stop and smell the roses" moment.