Dead Island Trailer. Wow, it’s… everything @daringfireball said it was going to be: haunting, brutal, moving. All in a game trailer.
At this point I am hoping for a minor miracle to occur in Assassin’s Creed 3. As I began to have my fill of the vast and sumptuous recreation of Rome, 1503—reimagined here as a virtual playground for a free-running open-world do-gooder—and turned my attentions to the resolution of Ezio’s now overly drawn-out saga, I was thinking what a surprise masterpiece Brotherhood turned out to be. A scant two hours later I was sitting with my mouth open during the game’s endless credit sequence hoping that everything that had just transpired was a cruel joke. Wishing, in short, that I had missed something.
What happened to get from sheer enjoyment to despair? Sit down by the fire and let me tell you a story.
Let’s begin with Assassin’s Creed 2, 2009’s game of the year and amongst the best games I have ever played. It was a sprawling world, full of beauty and murder, love and revenge, mystery and revelation. The designers had taken to heart the criticism of their first outing, namely that there was too little to do save chasing flags in their beautiful recreation of the Levant. So they added side quests diverse and varied, and a richer and more complex crowd AI. They added a cryptic series of puzzles designed to haunt visually and stimulate your inner conspiracy theorist. True, they seemed to have sacrificed something of their central premise, the tactical assassination simulator. Yes, there were plot holes as the timeline advanced. Perfection is always just out of reach.
I had assumed that Brotherhood would be a minor coda to Ezio’s story, a novella of bloody revenge on the Borgia with a unique and genuinely thrilling multiplayer experience added on. Imagine my surprise when it started something grander—effortlessly picking up minutes after the end of AC2. Ezio is principally confined to Rome, with only brief, linear excursions out into other locales, but that can be overlooked in a game on as tight a release schedule as this one was. They’d somehow jammed even more sidequests into the basic open-world formula, now replete with factions, faction quests, challenges, puzzle-lairs to overcome, chases to be had, lost memories uncovered, treasures and flags to be found, shops to be reopened, and Borgia district HQs to be overthrown. My oh my, and we haven’t even touched on the titular rebuilding of the “Brotherhood” of assassins beyond La Volpe and Machiavelli.
The storytelling is good, but tends to get lost in the details. I was sold on the mechanic of rebuilding Ezio’s familial fiefdom at Monteriggioni in AC2 on the grounds that having a base of power is precisely what an ambitious family wants, but making the whole of Rome a similar treadmill is pushing it in the extreme. I adore the brotherhood minigame, even if others didn’t appreciate its “Pro Football Manager” aspirations: you have a little screen where you outfit your charges and send them out on quests. Numerous times my wife would walk by and I would gleefully announce that I was playing “dress-up with my little assassin toys”. Having Assassin allies in town with you makes for some of the most compelling gameplay moments ever devised: Ezio silently raises his fist at the right moment; a eagle cries; and in the blink of an eye that squadron of guards between you and your target pitches over, silently cut down in a hail of arrows. Ezio rushes past into the Borgia compound and it is all over for Captain di Pietro. It’s exactly the sort of gameplay I was expecting to have presented to me, not the poorly conceived city management or insufferable War Machine sidequests. Free roaming is a blast, as ever, as is sizing up the best approach to taking out the Borgia lieutenants.
Back in the real world, Desmond, Lucy, Sean, and Rebecca are hiding in the ancient Auditore estate in Monteriggioni, and you are allowed more freedom to explore your surroundings than ever before. By obtaining access to your companions’ email accounts, you can trace the evolving relationships between your tight-knit little group; the writers have managed to forge convincing and compelling characters here (Desmond’s milquetoast aside).
So where does it all go wrong, then?
Well… in the designers fascination with their details, for a start. It is strange that in an “Assassins Creed” game one should conduct no assassinations save those on sidequests, n’est-ce pas? I thought that perhaps they were saving all of the intense stalking, infiltrating, and assassinating action for a thrilling climax where Ezio wrings his revenge (or tries to) from the Borgia, but instead everything goes completely off the rails instead.
The later chapters of the game are a laughable effort to convince you that there is a mercenary-fueled war happening in the outskirts of Rome and a series of bizarre, barely-interactive sessions of drawn-out dialogue and “combat” with the Apple of Eden. Mysterious cutscenes with strange pronouncements rule the day. One of the Borgia announces that “no man can kill me” like he’s the Witch-King of Angmar. Later, Ezio peers at the Apple, sits up, and concurs, starting a new and bizarre end sequence. (Spoiler: you kill Cesare. Meaning what the what was up with his Witch-King thing?)
In fact, there are few missions that evoke Assassins at all: infiltration, stealthy combat, concealment, etc. One entire chapter is a series of missions without chronological pause while you infiltrate the Castel Sant’Angelo, but Hitman this is not! At each mission break everything around you is reset. There’s little to no tactical planning to be done, and certainly no reward for doing so. Then you charge around invincibly wielding the Apple, then charge around some more in some other random place, then you zoom back to the present, mysterious things are said, a new faction introduced, and [REDACTED] happens, which is all highly disappointing.
So over the rails it went, slowly and inexorably throwing out all the goodwill it acquired. I noticed that the lead designer had left the company, and the game certainly plays like they ran out of his original notes, ran up against the deadline, and just threw a bunch of poorly conceived psuedo-mysterious plot twists in there for good measure. Sorting through that rubble to find a manageable story for AC3 will take a minor miracle.
So here we are. Great environment, great open-world gameplay, wonderful characterization of Desmond’s friends, excellent “Brotherhood” stuff. No tactical gameplay, no sense of being an Assassin, really. Ezio is more like an agile, indestructible force of nature. The series would be better off, gameplay-wise, by rediscovering its roots: it should be possible to recreate the experience of being an assassin. You build up a target profile, pinpoint their habits and preferred locations, scout the area, and choose your path to the target. Like Hitman, there should be numerous pathways to victory. All of the other stuff is necessary polish, but it should be in service to getting better at the core mechanic: using your parkour skills to stealthily approach someone and offing them for the greater good.
As for the story, I think we’re in trouble. There are now factions within factions and mystery people reinserting Desmond into an animus at the end, and I’m more than a little concerned that they’ve taken things to the LOST level where nothing can possibly make sense anymore. Complex mystery stories are good; adding additional complexity and mystery just because is bad.
Sad though I am to say it, AC:B gets a C-. Should’ve been so much more.
I should say a few words about the multiplayer: it is superlative, capturing so much more of the drama and tension the medium deserves than the single-player it isn’t even funny. I normally despise playing MP, but AC:B is the best MP I’ve played since Infiltration for UT. I hope it survives. The game’s multiplayer rating is an unqualified A.
I was never a fan of the much-beloved Castlevania games. They always seemed like unceremoniously and unforgivingly hard action-platformers. I’m a fan of challenging games, but not when all the challenge is in trial and error, and what little I played of the 2-d side-scrollers of Castlevania lore always seemed to go above my head. There was always a castle, some overwrought dialogue, and a labyrinthine maze full of brutal and seemingly random encounters. I’m given to understand that there is some great mythos and fun rpg-style elements if you can get into them.
At least the music was great.
Now comes Capcom with a “reboot” of the franchise as a God of War knockoff. I was skeptical, but more than one source I trust told me that the story was excellent and the payoff at the end both surprising and worth the effort to get there. More on that later, but I dove in.
Lords of Shadow isn’t just like God of War, it is God of War, stripped down to the meat. There are no un-necessary new weapons to acquire, just mandatory upgrades to your current weapon. There are no complex button-mashing quick-time events, instead a straightforward (yet all the more frustrating) timing-press quick-time event. There are a few cyclopean behemoths to scale and chip away at vulnerable bits on and lots of handsome cyclopean architecture to hang around on.
It has all of the problems of God of War, too: insane camera angles, fights that become unwinnable if you mess up the timing minigame, and a paucity of real puzzles (instead, a plethora of jumping puzzles complicated by that godsforsaken camera. It is also genuinely hard, as a Japanese game should be. Irritating jumping, tricksy combo controls, a necessity to shift back and forth between different flavors of magic… everything you would expect is there.
The combat is visceral, complex, and once you figure it out, actually somewhat satisfying. Prior to having the combo & magic stuff sorted out it is usually just annoying. There are two types of magic—good and evil, heal-y and damage-y—and a few different secondary attacks (none of which are really worthwhile). There are “hordes of foes” fights, minibosses, titans to scale, and proper throwdowns with the really, really, annoying titular Lords of Shadow.
And, by the gods, the story. Patrick Stewart delivers the narration with a bemused gusto: it’s dark, gothic fantasy—sparing no demoniac adjective, no frost-and-ryme coated shadow is left unexamined, for the Fate of the World rests on Our Hero, Ever More Tormented By The Memory of His Wife. Good lord, it’s bad. So bad it is usually good, if you’re in to that sort of thing. The narrated story makes no sense on its face: it is plausibly bad, leading to an interesting moment later—Patrick Stewart is narrating your actions as if following you around, but he always says that he is elsewhere. Weird.
Europe has become plagued by shadow, you see. There are three Lords of it: Vampire, Werewolf, and “Other”. Each has a piece of a mask that seems to grant supreme power if reassembled. You belong to some order that is apparently dedicated to fighting the shadow, wielders of tremendous Christian God-Power, but apparently run by completely insufferable idiots. You are the last in a long line of bad-asses in crimson and black who has been sent out to quest against the Lords of Shadow. You will constantly be looting priceless artifacts, puzzle solutions, etc. from the bodies of your fallen warrior brethren. Here’s an idea: rather than string out a couple solo questing knights at a time, why not send all the questing knights out together? In what is called “a squad”? If combining the priceless artifacts unlocks greater power… why distribute them in ineffectually small doses to your haplessly outnumbered solo warriors? Meh. It’s all just an excuse for a leveling curve and poorly-placed references to other games.
So: after all that, is there anything to like here?
Surprisingly, yes. The plot twists and dramatic ending that everyone was all in a lather over was pointlessly stupid, to me. Satan done it. He’s the easiest boss to beat, ironically, since you have unlimited health-regen magic. Then there are more dumb plot twists during the credits. But everything up to that point came together quite nicely, I thought. Your order is undermined, Patrick Stewart finally fills in the holes in his narration, and all that had been kept from you is accounted for. For all of its tortured prose, the story here is taut and hangs together. The scenery is gorgeous, if appallingly linear. The fighting, once you’re into it, is superb. And if you enjoy conquering seemingly unconquerable bosses, the emotional payoff for finally prevailing against the Lords of Shadow is quite nice.
I’ll award it a… B. Surprisingly solid.
I know I’m getting to this late (like, shortly before the release of Fable 3 late), but hey, better late than never.
I was immediately charmed by Fable 2’s visual presentation and its initial story hook: you start as a young orphan under the wing of your slightly older sister, Rose. You live on the streets and winter is approaching fast, so you need some cash. It provides immediate pathos and emotional connection with your character—and, eventually, the overarching story.
The writers also aren’t afraid of moving through time through story-based events—even ones that permanently modify the kingdom of Albion. They do a pretty good job of telegraphing these changes so you can make sure to wrap up whatever it is you’re working on.
Other than the ending feeling a little rushed or the not-quite-as-deep-as-it-seems combat system, there’s very little that I can complain about; although the social system is a bit too easy to game. Every town you encounter will love you blindly seemingly within moments.
Speaking of that social system, it is unique and interesting: you learn a variety of “expressions”, which you access via the social wheel. You can earn fame—by showing off trophies you obtain via questing—or otherwise impress or amuse the npcs you encounter in the world by dancing, making sock puppets, or belching, for instance. These expressions are used in a variety of secondary miniquests, but interestingly never deployed for any main story purpose. There’s plenty to do and see in Albion, even after the main storyline is over, from becoming a real estate baron to raising a family to tracking down a wide variety of magical artefacts.
I was impressed with the variety of activities, the wit and charm of the writing and world, and the tenderness of the characters. It isn’t a game that evokes strong emotions, but it is solid fun, and for quite some time. It’s only $20 and you can’t really go wrong with that.
A-. Recommended.
Meh.
A slightly more generous review
Firewalker: the grav-tank is a damn sight better than that horrible mako thing from ME1, but they’re so limited in your deployment of it. It sort of feels like they spent a bunch of time polishing the aesthetics and the controls and how they were going to handle larger environments and then just called it a day. The missions are outdoor linear space dungeons, requiring nothing more than driving to the end of the corridor, maybe hopping from time to time. The Sphere-like artifact was a cool nod to one ofmy favorite pieces of horror/scifi, but… as soon as you find it the DLC is over. There’s no mission exploring it, no tension, nada. Barely even a cutscene. Weird.
Kasumi Goto: is awesome, and it does indeed seem like you might need the galaxy’s best thief, until you remember that all of the missions in the game are linear firefights through space dungeons. And that you’ve no doubt already beaten it at this point. Even her own loyalty mission tricks you: it tasks you to infiltrate a party and steal something of great personal import to her. Great! You say. A nice gameplay twist! Alas, no: there’s no puzzle to solve, no spy action to be had, just a series of unmissable unfailable tasks to accomplish before you unlock the linear gunfight that you should have seen coming. Missed a huge opportunity to break out of the mould.
Overlord: a slightly more involved version of a standard main quest mission. It makes you use the hover tank—presumably to justify it’s inclusion in the game at all—to zip between a series of geth-overrun Cerberus labs. Feels like a throwback to ME1, and that’s probably a good thing. There’s actually an interesting story behind the missions that I won’t spoil for you save to say that it reinforces how extreme Cerberus really is. Even though it is more of the same, it is at least at the high end of the quality spectrum, unlike the lame Firewalker or disappointing Kasumi missions.
C.
p.s. Turned the difficulty down to normal towards the end here so I could breeze through to level 30. Normal is redonkulously easy you guys. I think I took non-shield damage once.
Your Yearly Creepy Indie Puzzle Platformer for 2010
Whereas last year’s Braid was positively Lynchian, the Danish developers of LIMBO have opted for a sparse, minimalist ethos with no text, spoken or written. There’s little context at all: you are a small dark shillouette of a boy—with glowing eyes—stuck in a hellish world of greyscale obstacles. You wake up, you move relentlessly to the right, overcoming a series of escalating puzzle challenges, and eventually you stop moving right. There’s a great stark, minimalist soundtrack accompanying the whole affair.
It’s a little disturbing and more than a little omnious. That’s not to say that it isn’t tremendous fun solving the puzzles, but perhaps the best possible review of this short little wonder comes from a friend of mine: “Even now that I have finished it, I’m hard pressed to say that I’ve beaten the game… I merely reached the end.” LIMBO ends as cryptically and hauntingly as it begins… with no congratulatory scroll or burst of color. It just fades out. There is neither explanation, apotheosis, catharsis, or any more work to be done. It’s just over.
Ominous, but highly recommended. The whole affair is perhaps 3 hours long. My only wish? That there weren’t laser-triggered machine guns in the factory series. Everything else is delightfully quirky and wasteland-tech-ish.
B+.
Alpha Protocol is a self-styled “espionage RPG” from the veteran RPG designers at Obsidian Studios. It had been in the works for a long time, with several iterations and design efforts thrown at it—and it shows in the final product. The graphics, animations, and polish are indicative of a game that has been put through the ringer more than a few times. Despite all that, though, I think it is a niche classic; it is an instant icon in the RPG space that other games would do well to emulate. It gets so many of the basics right that it is really easy for me to overlook its many superficial problems, and then it goes one better by having an intelligible and well thought out branching decision system—where each decision you make has the potential to change the future shape of the story.
The second coming of Deus Ex it is not; it has more in common with Mass Effect—the first Mass Effect, not the turgid and lamentable sequel—than it does with any other easy comparison. The game mechanics are unmistakably those of an RPG blended ever so slightly with an FPS. If you invest heavily in stealth, you’ll gain the ability to become invisible for brief periods of time, for instance. Specializing in shotguns will allow you to activate a mode where you score instant knockdowns on anyone you hit for a period. Your gun has a variety of stats that help the game decide whether or not you hit your target, and all of the guns are ludicrously customizable, and all of the customizations involve intelligible and thought-provoking tradeoffs (are you taking notes, Bioware?).
You cannot truly craft the game experience entirely around your playstyle preferences: there are some sections where you must fight, and many sections where being stealthy for a time is clearly advisable; for the most part, though, this is unobjectionable: you’ll gain enough skill points that you can easily specialize in some useful form of ranged combat.
Power Up
Speaking of skill points, it was immensely refreshing to see someone take a stab at a character upgrade system that matters. Since the game isn’t a linear treadmill, your character development always makes you incrementally stronger or situationally more diverse… and gives you incentives to leverage scenarios to your advantage. You aren’t leveling up simply to keep pace with the Joneses (or their minions)—you’re leveling up to get better at playing the sort of game you want to play.
This situation is even more acute when it comes to equipment upgrades and customizations. Alpha Protocol, to its tremendous credit, eschews the notion that you should be drowning in money. Quite the opposite—even if you invest considerable time scouring the levels for money—you’ll never quite have enough. Oh, it isn’t a survival horror vibe, no: you will be making enough to buy upgrades, but never so much that you can buy everything you want. Real choice abounds. Should I buy this intel which will make an upcoming mission easier or save for this new scope for my rifle?
Conversation and Conversion
You spend a fair amount of time engaging in a—yes—Mass Effect style conversation system, where you have a number of response choices activated by various buttons. This system works fairly well: you’ve got three basic modes: “suave” (which is often “tactless buffoon”), “impatient” (usually “violent dickhead”), and “professional”. You’ll often get a fourth choice predicated on intel you’ve obtained or your status, too. The truly outstanding thing about Alpha Protocol is that it has modeled NPC reactions quite well. Some NPCs really like the “violent dickhead”, most people are at least ok with “professional”, and so on and so forth. Your relationship to the NPCs evolves throughout the game and, though intel or the old-fashioned way you can usually gauge how you’ll effect these character. Some people you want to piss off, some you don’t—and exploring how to push people’s buttons in game is quite enjoyable.
It also turns out to be hugely important for how your particular iteration of the Alpha Protocol story will play out. It’s fairly freeform, so you are free to encounter people and plots at various times and the interconnections between segments is subtle and rewarding. Your choices of how to handle NPCs makes a huge difference and is probably the best such mechanic I’ve ever encountered.
I managed to obtain an ending where I successfully flipped everyone that I could to my personal side and launched a new covert outfit, outflanking all the factions at the very end. Highly satisfactory.
Core Gameplay
The core gameplay of Alpha Protocol is solid but not inspired. Enemies will often be possessed by the dread imbecility of the early Rainbow Six foes. They’ll often mill aimlessly about, sometimes recklessly charging at your covered firing position. The levels will be less open than they might—but still much more rewarding than Mass Effect’s tiny space corridors—and occasionally I’m told you’ll hit a bug. It’s not Hitman, and not quite Deus Ex, but it is somewhere in between those games and Mass Effect. If there were no dynamic storyline, collection of interesting NPCs, and well thought-out character power progression, I’d say it was subpar. The shotgun in particular seems underdeveloped, and the pistol overly powerful. Slightly larger levels with more of a Hitman vibe would have sent me into paroxysms of glee.
One aspect that particular stands out is in its skill-related minigames. Yes, I said it. Normally minigames are the worst thought through aspects of a game’s design (hello again, ME2)—and eventually become little more than pointless, unavoidable timesinks. Alpha Protocol has minigames for lockpicking, hacking, and electronic switch overrides, and surprisingly all are both fun and thematic. I’m as shocked as you are. You can specialize in gadgetry a little bit and avoid them altogether, too! It’s almost like someone was paying attention to these systems from the get go.
It was the Shiek in the Souk with the Secret Weapon
For all its lack of polish, I thoroughly enjoyed Alpha Protocol. It’s the only game that I’ve wanted to keep playing after it was over for a long time. I’ve started a second playthrough to see how much of the story I can change and have been pleasantly surprised thus far. Obsidian Entertainment, you’ve done alright by me. This is an early contender for game of the year.
A.
p.s. I never experienced any crashes or bugs, despite the early complaints about them. I may have gotten “the one good copy” somehow, or maybe my methodical playstyle was the right pace?