Tag: Shadow of the Colossus

The Narrative-Gameplay Contrast Project

So… I’m embarking on a little project.

I’ve been insanely curious about Spec Ops: The Line since its release, with many (somewhat trusted) media sources raving about the use of narrative in the game. See, I’m a big fan of narrative… but only when it makes sense in a game. Which is a backwards way of saying that I’m not a fan of narrative/gameplay dissonance.

Now, I must be honest here: I was sorely tempted to write “ludonarrative dissonance” above, because that’s what all the Kool Kids are writing about at the moment… especially regarding BioShock Infinite (which I’ll talk about a bit more later). But I’m not quite sure that’s the right fit for what I’m talking about.

Ludonarrative dissonance – as I understand it – contemplates the conflict between the narrative aspects of what the game projects, and the actions that it asks you to perform as part of the game. In my mind, any game that tries to engage in a real-world scenario is always going to have some sort of ludonarrative dissonance: the need for scoring mechanics, and the simple mapping of such a mechanism onto “winning” (usually “killing”), makes it difficult to reconcile any narrative arc (which usually tugs on emotional heartstrings for effect) with that mechanism. Curiously, that implies that Call of Duty-type games suffer less dissonance than, say, Uncharted.

But that’s not what I’m talking about.

I’m more interested in the feel of the game… the physical expression of the player in doing what the game is challenging you to do.

The Wii (oh, that’s so last generation) had it easy with its motion controls: Wii Sports Tennis is the very epitome of this type of engagement, but that’s cheating a little bit… that’s mimicry. I want to dig into the games that somehow conjure up a physical correlation between what the game wants, and what you – as the player – deliver.

Consider Ico – a stunning game, to be sure. One of the best, in my book. But part of the reason I feel that is because holding Yorda’s hand – which you’re doing for much of the game – is accomplished by curling a finger around onto R1 on the DualShock controller. When I’m playing Ico, and my index finger isn’t on that button, I’m anxious – Yorda’s in danger.

The game did that to me. I suspect it’s a glorious combination of narrative and control tuning that works for Ico; but other games manage without narrative… and I usually describe them as having “responsive controls” or, more often, not notice it at all. The absence of engaging controls is, after all, easier to describe: games can feel “floaty” or disconnected.

But then there are games where the physical interaction is so at odds with the narrative aspects that it’s jarring – proper harshing-my-gaming-buzz jarring. But more on BioShock Infinite later.

So I’ve decided to embark on a little project. I was originally just going to play the aforementioned Spec Ops: The Line, fully expecting the narrative to be completely divorced from the gameplay: everything I’ve heard suggests that the gameplay component is an average third-person shooter, but that there are Decisions to be made… and I want to see how that process is presented by the game. But, with BioShock Infinite getting a lot of positive comments about its narrative aspects from reviewers and punters alike, I thought I’d give that a bash as well… and then there’s the Director’s Cut of cult-classic Deadly Premonition, a game lauded for its great story and cack controls.

Three games of wildly varying perceived quality, all with reportedly strong narratives, none of which are really in genres that elicit enthusiasm in me: I call this the The Narrative-Gameplay Contrast Project (NGCP).

But before I launch into that, there’s a little tidy-up and context-setting to be done: in the last fortnight, I managed to conquer the last of my Colossi, knocking Shadow of the Colossus off The List (a game that also has a wonderful physicality to it… even though I think it’s a poor game in comparison to its spiritual prequel), and rushed through a playthrough of Uncharted 3 on Normal, mopping up treasure and weapon Trophies. Uncharted 3 is, of course, a long-term project, with a squillion multiplayer Trophies to be hunted down; I’ve started playing it a bit online, and it’s a much more accessible game than Uncharted 2 ever was (though there’s issues with balance being skewed by high-ranking perks). But the single-player campaign is absolutely devoid of narrative engagement; as I’ve mentioned before, the game presents itself to me as an asset tour, but I’m not necessarily one to be wowed by those assets.

Which brings us – finally – to BioShock Infinite.

Now, let’s get one thing straight: I love the narrative of BioShock Infinite. I think it’s on par with movies like Inception (which I quite enjoyed, but not to rave-worthy levels), and I think that it’s fantastic that Irrational have chosen to deal with issues like racism and class warfare and personal engagements, all steeped in waves of cheesy nostalgia that evokes The Truman Show. And it certainly presents a wonderfully realised environment; there’s lots of assets to be toured there.

But as for the gameplay…

Well, it’s functional, at least. But there’s something about the gameplay that keeps the story at arm’s length for the entire game; it’s almost like it belongs to some other story. Or that Infinite‘s narrative belongs in some other game.

I’m really shocked at how disjointed it made me feel; and that prevented me from actually engaging with the characters, and emoting in moments that were described in the Game|Life BioShock Infinite SpoilerCast (which really is quite spoilery, so only listen to it after you’ve played the game!).

But then there’s the ending.

Not the final “battle”, which is as jarring as the realisation that Brütal Legend is actually an RTS, but the significant end-game sequence (seriously: put aside an hour for it).

The ending is, for me, BioShock Infinite done right. And I know that I say that as someone completely divorced from the history of the game (I’ve only played the demo of the first BioShock, and neither of the System Shock games)… but there’s lots of other disconnects there for me, too. The pervading nostalgia for Americana of a bygone era is lost on me, and it’s only today that I discovered that the oft-referenced Wounded Knee was a real (and horrific) event. But that end sequence absolutely nails the physical engagement with the game for me: every button press was considered, even though there was no bearing on the outcome.

But…

That end sequence that I enjoyed so much? There’s an indie game that does something similar, but so much better. It’s only five dollars, it’s maybe thirty minutes of your time (if you’re a nosy explorer like me), and it’s a really, really wonderful experiment in game-ified narrative. It’s Thirty Flights of Loving, and it’s… well, I’m glad I played it; I’m glad it exists.

Further thoughts on The Narrative-Gameplay Contrast Project as they arise…

Je Retourne (2013 Edition)

Hello once again!

This is just a (relatively) quick post to placate the few readers who are still subscribed: no, this blog is not dead. Yes, I will endeavour to post more frequently (i.e. more than once per calendar quarter). But something has just happened that I wanted to scream from the rooftops in joy, and I figured this is as good an excuse as any to start posting again.

But first… what have I been up to?

Well, since you (by which I mean me) asked, I started the New Year by tackling one of the games on my Resolutions: Shadow of the Colossus. I’d already completed this game on the PS2 way back when, and couldn’t actually remember much of the process, so I figured I could knock it off relatively quickly in January. Of course, I’d neglected to take into account the hundred-ish posts I had to write for my other blog in January, so I managed to push my way through the game on Normal… but in doing so, the memories came flooding back.

Colossus is not a particularly difficult game to finish; even the Hard difficulty is not particularly tricky. But when it comes to completion – or, in the PS3’s case, the complete set of Trophies – the Time Attack mode is the killer. In particular, Hard Time Attack (HTA). With the memories came the sense of time and practise required to clear HTA; another reason why I abandoned Colossus mid-January.

But I still felt obliged to complete something in January, so I picked up The Unfinished Swan off PSN. It’s an easy game to wrap up, looks and sounds absolutely gorgeous, and performs some absolutely wonderful storytelling. If you’re PS3-friendly, it’s well worth picking up for something a little different; even the trickiest Trophy is an absolute delight.

Back to the Resolutions I went; February and March, which host my beloved Festivals, are always “short” months, so I tried to find something that I could finish; with only one Achievement left to obtain, Geometry Wars Evolved^2 seemed to be a reasonable choice. The missing Achievement, Smile, required about eight minutes of perfect play… which I was not able to master before the start of my Festivities, leaving February barren.

My Fringing and Festivalling was amazingly fun – friends made and re-made, some amazing performances (including one of the best dance pieces I’ve ever seen), and way too much fun. Unfortunately, the last four days were marred by a premature bout of Fringe Flu… well, more like Man Flu, but it made the closing days physically draining… and caused me to collapse immediately following the close of activities.

But, once back in front of the consoles, I returned to Geometry Wars Evolved^2 – another thirty-or-so hours of practise saw me Achieve my goal (after one heartbreaking attempt that saw me fluff the very final level). At that point I decided to return to Shadow of the Colossus; Normal Time Attack was a little tricky, but – in between squeezing in twenty(!) movies at the French Film Festival (yes, another festival!) – I managed to scrape through those Attacks with only a couple of problems.

A quick query of Google reveals that most people have problems with Colossi 3 and 15; I’ve also had massive issues with 13, and only managed to scrape through that on Normal Time Attack when a chance physics glitch worked in my favour. And, true to form, Colossus 15 was really tough; three hours saw it sorted.

Then came Hard Time Attack.

I remembered Colossus 3 being particularly tough, and Google once again revealed that most PS3 colossi slayers struggle to get anywhere near the five minute mark. Apparently there’s been a few changes in the physics handling between from NTSC PS2 version that frustrate the majority – the PAL version was the basis for the port – and so much of the grumbling was due to that; I, on the other hand, was buoyed by the fact that I knew that I’d managed this once before. I seem to remember that I relied on a sword jump to claw enough time back; I’ll just do that again, I thought.

But could I reproduce those skills? Could I fuck.

I struggled. I really struggled. I figured I could do one HTA per day and – whilst the first two colossi took maybe an hour of practise each – I figured that was relatively doable. The third one, though…

I checked all the online tutorials I could – there’s still lots of sword jumps, but also mystical discussion of Perfect Grip (which I am convinced is a myth) and a few other tricks… but none of them worked for me. But then I found this video, and practised and practised and swore and practised and shut off the PS3 in disgust and practised and…

…I just beat that fucker. With fifteen seconds up my sleeve.

So I’m pretty bloody happy right now. I know that I’ve still got Colossi 13 and 15 to go, but I’m hoping that I’m over the hump.

And with that… well, I’m back. You’re up-to-date. You don’t need to know what I think about the PS4 or anything – there’s more thoughts on the next-gen that I’d like to collate first. And, hopefully, I’ll write that sometime soon… but first, I’ve got another seven Colossi to kill.