The O/C Gamer

When I first wrote about Ridge Racer 6, I was focused on the completion of the game, on climbing the Australian Achievements leaderboards. That task complete, and daunted by the final remaining Achievement, I left Ridge Racer 6 alone for a few months.

I still spoke readily of my love for the game, however; and a bunch of other members of the Way Of The Rodent forums agreed with me. We'd congregate on Xbox Live occasionally (often necessitating a 5am alarm-inspired wakeup on a Saturday morning) and have an absolute ball. We were all bullish of the quality of the game; so much so that Ridge Racer 6 won the Way Of The Rodent Game of the Year for 2006.

And that felt very personal to me; I felt that, in some small way, I helped steer that Award to that great game. Ironic, then, that my piece on Zelda: Twilight Princess was selected to represent that game in the Rodent Awards issue.

Anyway, as homage to Ridge Racer 6 (and also because another chap on the forum expressed a passing interest) I decided to tackle that final Achievement.

The Impossible Achievement.

(Now, we all know that's not literally true. There's a ton of Achievements that are obviously more difficult - Mutant Storm Reloaded's Black Belt Grandmaster, and Robotron's Wave 100 spring to mind - but a quick perusal of many forums devoted to reveals the reluctance with which many approach this final Achievement.)

No Crash Victory: Single Races.

Win every race on each track (fifteen tracks plus their reverses) in every Class (five Classes) without hitting anything - other cars, scenery. "No Crash" is a bit of a misnomer; it's commonly referred to as "No Collisions", or "The Impossible Achievement."

So - I started this task, unsure how long it would take - or if it was even possible (for me). I swore upfront that I was completely unable to even make it around some tracks in Class 4 without scenery collisions, let alone worrying about other cars. But, over time, I learnt some tricks, noticed some aspects of the game that weren't immediately apparent, and… I Achieved :)

I've not idea how long it took to complete this Achievement, but I'll hazard a guess and say it was 40-45 hours. And, as a service to my zero readers, I'm listing my notes here - if only to assure them that this isn't as impossible as some would have you believe.

And so, in some semblance of order of importance:

• Use Unlimited Nitrous. You're already undertaking a heroic task; there's no reason to attempt to be super-human. Unlimited Nitrous (unlocked somewhere within World Xplorer, and activated on the Car Select screen by hitting "Y") gives you one huge advantage: it allows you to drop a double-nitrous on the start line. This, along with some artful dodging, can get you a third of the way through the field within seconds.
• Change your viewpoint. Since I was the only person in the universe that doesn't race with the in-car view, it pays to mention this: change to the chase-cam viewpoint (prod "X"). It really helps you judge your margins of error, as well as adding the teeth-gritting joy of squinting at the screen looking for those polygons of air that separate you from your foes.
• Learn to take the pedal off the metal. I know it sounds weird, completely at odds with the Ridge Racer ethos, but sometimes you just have to slow down. I'll be honest: I'd never used the brake (what? There's a brake?) prior to Class 4 of The Impossible Achievement… but some tracks will require that you not be flying around at StupidSpeed (either use the brake, or just don't hammer the accelerator all the way down) to avoid hitting walls; learn to deal with it.
• Learn to use The Groups. You may have noticed that computer-controlled cars tend to hang around in Groups; these prove to be ultra-useful when attempting the No Collision challenge. In-between Groups there are little Safety Zones; once you successfully overtake a Group and get to the Zone, cars behind you are unlikely (note the careful choice of word, there) to try and overtake you by using Nitrous. There tends to be a Safety Zone around 8th or 9th place, often 4th, and 2nd; this varies depending on the course and initial layout of the opposition cars.
• Use your strengths. Your Nitrous has far greater grunt than the oppositions. If the car you're attempting to overtake deploys a Nitrous - even if it's a triple - don't be afraid to fire your own Nitrous; you'll overtake them no problems, just make sure you can get sufficiently clear of their Nitrous-fuelled ramming after yours runs out.
• Don't Rush. Use the above two tips to your advantage… don't try to overtake every car from the start line. Often you can use a double-Nitrous (combined with a Rocket Start) at the start of a race and settle nicely into the first Safety Zone (around 8th or 9th position), but don't feel compelled to do so. Some tracks are easier if you let the opposition have ten seconds head start; if you've got Unlimited Nitrous, you can catch them back up no problems. Take your time, stalk your foe - you're in no big rush. Remember - all you have to do is win. Without hitting anything ;)
• Traffic patterns matter. It's pretty easy to notice that Restarting a race in progress (hitting Start > Restart) doesn't change the opposition cars makeup or locations. You might also notice that, if you drive exactly the same way, overtaking cars on the same side every time, that the race will pretty much pan out in an identical manner. This is really handy - it allows you to scope out paths through the traffic, and the reactions of different cars to various behaviors. If you bugger up - hit a car, get rammed, or just nick a wall - you can just restart the race and try again. In this manner, you can gradually pry your way through the puzzle that each race presents.
• Random cars? Not quite. A corollary to the above note is that, while Restarting a race leaves opposition car patterns intact, quitting to the Single Race Menu and starting the race again from there creates a random car layout. This isn’t strictly true; each track seems (in Special Class, anyway) to have a selection of general patterns it will use to initially order cars. Thus, if there's a pattern you want to return to, repeatedly Quit back to the Single Race Menu and start the same race until it returns.
• Some cars really want their position. Another variant of the Pattern rules: some cars really want to be in a particular position. Through some vagaries of racing, you might see a car you normally expect to see in second place (for example) pushed way down the field - watch out! To get to its preferred position, it'll boost and bash its way through traffic with scant regard for your Achievement gathering. It doesn't happen all the time, but it's really annoying to find a car that acts like this.
• Beware the Leader's Triple. The computer-controlled frontrunner will always fire off a triple-Nitrous when challenged. This can be a complete bastard to deal with whilst overtaking, so the trick is to milk it. Get right up the leading car's arse and it'll fire off the triple; keep in close proximity to the car and overtake when the triple runs out. It appears that each computer-controlled car can only manage one triple per race… which is nice.
• Mild Drift rules. I've said it before - I'm a complete pussy at this game, so I chose to perform all my races using Mild Drift cars - the Wild Gang (Class 1 & 3) and the Eo (Class 2 & 4). The Mild Drift gives you extra time to correct your slides, not to mention allowing you to actually face the direction you intend to travel in for the majority of the time. As for Special Class, I used the Bass Cruiser… just kidding, what am I, a fucking idiot? Angelus all the way.
• Have a Plan-Of-Attack. At first, I thought that I'd tackle the races one-track-at-a-time. I reasoned that it was best to focus on the track - learn every bump, every curve, every nuance, every drift point. I wound up having struggling through every Class on every track, until I hit the fourth track - Island Circle. Or "Island Fucking Circle," as it became known. So I changed my POA - I focused on completing one Class at a time, starting with Class 1. The advantage to this approach was that I quickly became accustomed to the danger cars and approaches of each Class; it often meant that, once I hit the Reverse tracks, I was so attuned to the cars that I would win races easily. Or rather, more easily.
• Don't worry, it gets easier. Really, it does. Class 1 is tricky and tedious, a real test of concentration - after all, races can last five minutes, and one short daydream is enough to see you careening into a wall. Class 2, perhaps because of the additional speed, feels significantly easier; Class 3 is noticeably more difficult (due to the extra speed), and Class 4 only a touch trickier. Surprisingly, Special Class felt easier(!) than Class 4 for the most part… and, more importantly, the Special Class races are genuinely fun - I would literally speed-sweat bullets for the 180 seconds of some races. And maybe it was delirium, but there were times when an angry Terrajin rammed me going into the final corner and I'd giggle like a drunk schoolgirl. Then swear a lot, restart the race, ram the bastard off the road, and feel much better.

Don't get me wrong, it's still a massive undertaking - but it's definitely not impossible. Hey, if I can do it, anyone can :)

Posted by pete at 03:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

More to follow when I stop CELEBRATING...

Posted by pete at 11:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Posted by pete at 10:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It's a thrilling opening - Rico Rodriguez, your third-person avatar, gets tossed out of an aircraft; you deploy his parachute, drift over a lush tropical island, roll-land on a beach, arm your weapons and dispatch threats. Into the back of a jeep, speeding across the island again whilst shooting down aircraft and pursuing cars. Later, you're pushing Rico to use his grappling hook to grab a car, deploying your parachute, and paragliding behind it. Suddenly, you spy a flurry of aggressive helicopters; you shoot one down with your rocket launcher, grapple to another, kick the pilot out to land on the forest below, and speed off into the glorious sunset.

The problem is, Just Cause never re-captures the thrill of the first couple of hours of play. You acquire the grapple gun very early on, and it's largely the last time you feel genuinely thrilled by the game - but the freedom it allows, letting you jump around the lush tropical island setting at will, is wonderful.

The story is laughably cheesey and undeveloped - and hopelessly short. It's also occasionally too easy - in fact, the last three chapters I completed without actually knowing what I was doing. The side-missions required for Achievements can result in a bit of grinding, but it's only thirty hours max for your full complement of 1000pts.

And, believe me, that's a good thing. The Achievements are all very achievable, and they contribute about 50% of your playtime. I've no idea how long I would have played this game on the PC or PS2; it's only the GamerScore on offer that kept me interested in the end.

And that makes me sad. Just Cause plays well enough, and it certainly looks gorgeous - the tropical setting is lush, the environmental effects stunning… just wait for dawn or dusk, they're utterly convincing and gob-smackingly beautiful. The expanse of the San Esperito islands is wonderfully realised (especially when you learn that it's created with a simple heightmap), but it feels… empty.

And, in a way, I can understand that - the gameplay area is massive, and to actually fill it up with content would require a metric truckload of manpower… which means money. And it worries me that a game that may have a playable lifetime of 20 hours would require so much money to produce. News that Lost Planet cost Capcom $40 million dollars exacerbates these fears; to be fair, the development budget was apparently just half that, but that's still $20 million for the tech and content.

Kotaku also posted a story indicating that Gears Of War cost a mere $10 million to make. I'd imagine that's pretty much devoted to the content development budget, too - I think the Gears hype machine pretty much negated the need for marketing, and one would imagine that the Unreal Engine development came from a different budget. Let's think about that for a second: sure, Gears is a polished bit of work, but it's hardly the most bug-free or - at about 10 hours of single-player time - the most content rich title.

And so the emptiness of Just Cause is to be expected, really - but it plays well enough, and I certainly think my AU$90 for thirty hours interactive entertainment was about par for the course. At worst, the demo is still well worth the download from Live Marketplace. But it highlighted to me the Cost Of Content - and, pessimism heightened, made me apprehensive for upcoming next-gen gaming.

Posted by pete at 07:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I love Rez. Rez is ace. And, leveraging my O/C nature, I scoot about looking for other games that had been subjected to producer Tetsuya Mizuguchi's touch. And so, when video became available for N3, I downloaded - and enthused. This looked like a bumper hack'n'slash-fest with squillions of characters onscreen - something that I find appealing. After all, the scene in Kameo where you wander into a valley of carnage is one of the few memorable moments of that game.

The six-out-of-ten review in Edge (which began with the line "Ninety-Nine Nights deserves a better score than the one at the bottom of this page") only heightened my anticipation of this game. Edge roundly criticised N3's flaws, but their description of the underlying game mechanic had me salivating. A pre-cursory (after all, my mind was already made up) pootle through the demo available on XBLA made did little to discourage; thus, I pre-ordered, I picked up, and I played.

The initial intro movie is beautiful - certainly FMV, but still lovely. The titles looked a bit… clunky. Very clunky. Stuttery framerates, poor design. Really disappointing. The save system is cack-handed, giving the gamer every opportunity to unwittingly over-write their progress. There's no checkpoints or opportunities to save within levels, which often means that the frustrated player can often lose half-an-hour of progress because of a poorly executed boss battle. The plot and character development is pretty much non-existent and, when it is there, is astonishingly lame.

And, worst of all, this game crashes. A lot.

A peek about the Xbox Forums indicated that I was not alone in this issue; often, the DVD drive in the '360 would slow to a stop, and the next time the game requires some data to be streamed in, it crashes, resulting in the fearful Blade-Of-Borkedness popping out from the right-hand side of the screen.

So the trick is to never let the drive spin down; I discovered that popping into the inventory screen every couple of minutes seemed to cause sufficient activity to prevent problems. It's a bitch of a thing to remember when you're in the middle of a 5,000+ hit combo, though, and tends to kill the mood.

But despite all these niggles, N3 is still a worthy diversion. Graphically, it's a treat, with some decent character models appearing onscreen… and there's a lot of them. At some points in the game, you can spy the plain scenery covered with two dozen of your own henchmen and literally - yes, literally - hundreds of bad guys in floods of hackable goodness. Sure, the baddies are relatively low-polygon in nature and blend into a blurry mush of things-to-kill, but that's all that's required of them… the important number in N3 isn't the number of vertices per bad guy, it's the number of bad guys on the screen.

In fact, the only graphical quibble lies in the design of some of the playable characters. And it may be a cheap shot (and, believe it or not, I don't want to turn this blog into a repository of my fave pervy images), but I'd like to know how this is supposed to protect a knight in battle:

Aim for the cleavage.

Gameplay is pretty simple - select a character (starting with principal protagonist step-siblings Inphyy and Aspharr, other characters are made available as the game progresses). Wade into battle. Mash X and Y in various rhythmic combos until all opposition has been vanquished. There's a two-stage mega-weapon power-up, and it's a joy seeing each character's Blue Orb Spark for the first time. Vigk Vagk, in particular, has a visually spectacular attack; Tyurru, despite her nubile 12-year-old jailbait qualities, has an attack which slows the 360 to a crawl as it models a tidal wave flooding the surrounds causing maximum damage.

Levelling up characters can be a bit of a chore, but the extra combo variations make it worthwhile. Tyurru, in particular, morphs from a crapulent weakling into a veritable superweapon as she clambers through her ranks. And Inphyy's Level 9 Seraph Butterfly combo (a joyfully simple A, A, Y) is a joy to behold.

Jaaaaaaaaaaaaailbait.

So, in short - enjoyed the game, hated the crashes. The O/C in me is still playing it for the purposes of item collection, but - due to the random drops and lack of complete list - it's difficult to determine when this task will be complete. Still, it's not an onerous duty - in fact, as long as the crashes are avoided, it's a secret pleasure.

Posted by pete at 08:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My brother and I have little besides parents in common. One thing that we do share, however, is a love - well, perennial interest - in Simple Minds (the band, not dullards). Thus, when my brother rang me (on my mobile on my birthday at some silly hour during the Fringe) to let me know that Jim, Charlie and the boys were doing an Australian Tour… well, I was in. An overnighter in Melbourne was required, but no biggie.

We wind up getting a hotel berth a short stroll from the Palais in St Kilda, so we wandered down Ackland Street for quite possibly the dirtiest dirty-burger I've ever stuck in my mouth - seriously, it was filth, like charred falafel and sawdust with red gelatinous goop for "flavour". No matter; we pop into the Palais, grab a beer or three, and observe how the opening chords of the backup band caused absolutely no-one to rush to their seats.

We eventually amble to our seats (Row ZZ - fantastic, eh? It sounds more like a joke than an actual location - and there were still another half-dozen rows behind us) moments before the Minds take to the stage. And suddenly we're amidst a performance that, as much as it existed in the present, felt like it transported me to an earlier time with a younger me. Which is odd, because the average age of the audience is - guessing - late 30s to mid 40s. Oh shit - that very nearly includes me :}

Initially, I was a little concerned… they opened with AnonymousNewSongFromLatestAlbumThatNo-OneKnows. Eventually, though, I hear the brooding bassline and always-warbling lead guitar of Burchill in "Love Song", and I'm sold.

"Ghostdancing" has the crowd up and jumping. The mid-song interlude into "Gloria" is a treat, and only heightens the tension leading to the crescendous end of the song - which delivers gobs of glorious rock goodness.

It's scary when you realise that the punch of the song you're grooving to is "81, 82, 83, 84", the era for which the song proposes hope. That I felt disappointment - after the initial quirky delight of the difference - when the phrase is reduced to a meaningless "1, 2, 3, 4" is a genuine surprise.

Whilst I'll not say that this was the greatest show ever, the inclusion of "Love Song", "Ghost Dancing," and "Waterfront" made it more than worthwhile; and the only post-80's SM song I like, "She's A River", received a suitably rocking treatment. Lovely stuff; a bit of filler, but that's only to be expected.

So - what does this have to do with gaming?

The fact that this middle-aged crowd were on their feet - stomping, clapping, singing, wide-eyed with joy - looking at each other in recognition of a shared experience, a collective youth, led me to believe there's a deeper connection to the formative experiences.

Formative experiences - those occasions, when growing up, that shape your life. That mold your soon-to-be-adult thinking. The common childhood encounters that bind adults. The collective shared knowledge of a generation.

And maybe that's what we - as gamers - need. When will great games reach the same level of collective recognition as the great bands or concerts that create such indelible marks in our formative consciousness? When will they form a cogent part of the formative experience? I believe we're approaching such an era now; men in their mid-to-late twenties may have had a childhood featuring a NES or SMS; in ten years time, people of the same age have a pretty good chance of being raised in a PS2 household.

Of course, gaming has nowhere near the social acceptance or availability that music has; it's still a relatively niche passtime, a solitary hobby. But acceptance continues to grow - parents these days seem to see less evil in children plonked in front of the TV all day if they're being actively involved in an activity that fires cognitive neurons. Right or wrong, that's making gaming more mainstream.

Posted by pete at 03:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)