The Downey Obscure Game Report: Week Three

The history of video games has already been covered by people much smarter than me in much more detail than I could hope to, but if I were to write a book on the subject, I would make sure to include a fairly long chapter on how the home computer gaming market changed after video game consoles proved themselves to be both critical and commercial successes in the 90's. This was likely the first time someone meant it when they said, "Consoles are going to make PC gaming obsolete." The only market that PCs seemed to have that the consoles couldn't touch was the point-and-click adventure game market, which was still relatively strong. Then CD-Roms came out, and everything went to hell.

The CD-Rom was a big deal. In exchange for beefing up your computer's hardware and waiting 5 minutes for a game to load, you could experience something that the SNES and Genesis couldn't hope to replicate. The CD-Rom promised a multimedia experience. Everything sounded crisper, everything looked better, and hey, if that's what it can do to a game's look, what can it do to the gameplay?

Um...what gameplay? Geremy Mustard of Chair Entertainment noted in a recent essay that most of the memory used by a video game goes towards art, and not by accident: "Every time I found a way to make the game ("Undertow") smaller, the artists would find a way to increase its size again! By the end of it, they put in 15 custom environments, hundreds of effects, 5.1 surround sound, motion-captured cut-scenes with full voiceover, and subtitles in nine languages." ("Small Is Beautiful", Game Informer, January 2008) "Undertow", by the way, was an Xbox Live Arcade game that weighed in at a little under 50 MB, which was the maximum size for Live Arcade games at the time of its release. Such attention to game art has its roots at least as far back as the CD-Rom days, when full-motion video took up most of a game's memory.

The entire idea behind using full-motion video was to immerse the gamer into a game as much as possible, and there seemed to be no easier way of doing that than to have professional actors perform in front of a blue screen. They're real; they're more relatable than a pile of pixels; they look like you and me. What could go wrong?

First of all, most of the actors employed in such games sucked. Second of all, even if they didn't suck, the material that these actors had to work with sucked. Third of all, even if the actors and material were actually good, the gameplay itself sucked; most of this stuff was a thinly-concealed slideshow filled with hotspots that needed to be pressed in order to get to the next encounter.

Were any good games that incorporated full-motion video released? Well, yes; there has to be exceptions that prove the rule. "Myst" was one. "Gabriel Knight: The Beast Within" was another. "Under A Killing Moon" was yet another. But for every "Myst", there seemed to be two piles of crap. It wasn't helped by the fact that developers seemed to enjoy showing people dying. Yes, having your main character die as a way to reinforce the danger of his/her surroundings is a good thing, but there's a point when it stops being reinforcement of negative behavior and starts being about just grossing people out just for the sake of grossing them out. "Phantasmagoria" was built almost entirely around the appeal of seeing people die--but not just in parts where you've done something wrong. Throughout the game, you see visions of a previous tenant, Carno, killing each of his wives in horrible ways. Rest assured, the following link isn't the worst death featured in the game, and is actually pretty funny, but I still wouldn't recommend watching it while eating: http://youtube.com/watch?v=sNaG-oUMp28 . As any good entertainer knows, though, you can't give away your best material in the first act; you need something for the big finale. In other words, can your character's death be just as gory? Unfortunately, yes. The next link is much gorier, and you'll probably hate me for putting it here: http://youtube.com/watch?v=e3hX0rbw1rA .

The wasted potential here still astounds me, especially considering what they could have done with this technology. As long as you're using live actors, why not make a live-action Choose Your Own Adventure? As it was, most companies were willing to put out live-action Choose Your Own Goosebumps, overestimating their own wit and underestimating the expectations of the average gamer. Why not make a game that's concentrated less on pixel-hunting and more on decision-making?

Which brings us to this week's DOGR. If a version of this game had come out in the 90's, it would have been hailed as a classic and a benchmark. As it is, it was released in 2005, and it's simply a great game.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you...


Developed by Quantum Dream, previously known for making a game featuring David Bowie, and published by the king of good luck, Atari. The game is known to the rest of the world as "Fahrenheit", but there was some concern that consumers would associate the game with Michael Moore's "Fahrenheit 9/11", so the name was changed when it was translated for American audiences. The difference in names also helps separate the censored and uncensored versions of the game. We quaint Americans got the censored one.

The game starts off with you taking control of Lucas Kane, moments after killing someone in a diner while seemingly not in control of himself. How you act affects the next scene, when you take control of Carla Valenti and Tyler Miles, two detectives that are assigned to this case. You switch back and forth between these 3 characters (and Lucas's brother Markus on rare occasions), and it never really feels like you're fighting against yourself; all of the characters that you control are good people who are just trying to get by. There's also a vicious wave of snow that's devastated New York City, which means that these characters are going on despite themselves. (It also plays into the original title for the game.)

This game needs to be played with a controller that has two analog sticks, as the action scenes require you to play a version of Simon in order to proceed. The controller also has to have 6 other buttons on it, as two of them are used for tug-of-war contests sometimes played out in action sequences, too. This goes much better with a video example, so here's a sequence in which you get to see both mechanics at work: http://youtube.com/watch?v=v_MLnryT46g . Creative freedom is taken away from the gamer, but in return, you get the closest thing to an interactive movie that I've ever seen. The inner monologue is greatness, too, and reminds me of an even better game that I'm willing to do a column about in the future. Some reviewers say that it's too hard to watch the on-screen action and pay attention to the action cues at the same time, but I never had a problem with it. Maybe I'm just special.

It's got great writing, the choices that the characters (and you) make affect the outcome, and it plays well enough. But in my teaser for the game, I said that it was only awesome for about 3/4 of it. The last 1/4 was just one big disappointment to me, as that was the point in which all of the cards were revealed, and, to quote the cool kids, shit goes down. The problem is, though, that the characters stop acting rationally. There's a two-week space of blank memory for Lucas that is given an explanation that completely lacks inspiration or originality. Oh, and when they do battle, technology kills magic. I'm a bit of a SF nerd, but that ain't right.

It gets more right than it does wrong, though, so this is an easy recommendation. It was released on the PC, Xbox, and PS2, so it's not as though it's a hard game to find. Check the used racks for this one. Also, keep an eye out for "Heavy Rain", which is supposed to be a spiritual sequel of sorts. As long as I'm posting videos, here's the trailer that single-handedly made "Heavy Rain" a big deal: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=9133667929405103814&q=heavy+rain&total=3165&start=0&num=100&so=0&type=search&plindex=1 .

If you're reading this, please comment. On anything. Next week (maybe), I'll tackle another adventure game. One that involves Luke Skywalker, stealing gasoline from the police, and fertilizer. Now THAT'S a teaser.

The Downey Obscure Game Report: Week Two

When asked, video game developers will gladly give all of the reasons why it is so hard to make a video game adaptation of a licensed product. "What works in one medium might not work as well in another." "The people who own the license tend to not know much about developing video games, but we still have to respect their wishes concerning how their product is portrayed." "If we're making a game based on a movie that's coming out soon, then we need to be able to ship our product at around the same time that the movie is released, regardless of how much advance notice our bosses give us."

These interviews are pretty fun to read, since you can pretty much see that the interviewer was too afraid to address the elephant in the room. You see, there's no logical reason for any bad licensed video games to be released.

"What about money?" you might ask, and okay, that's kind of hard to argue--IF you go back 2 decades, when (a) the cost of making video games was lower and (b) the consumer was dumber. One of the worst video games ever made was "E.T." for the Atari 2600 (not the subject of this week's article), and that...thing still sold 1.5 million copies (and here's something to think about: despite selling that many copies, "E.T." was actually a big financial failure for Atari, since they had produced 4 million copies of the game and the movie rights hit them in the wallet hard). Nowadays, it takes millions of dollars just to DEVELOP a video game, never mind mass-producing it, and the consumer has plenty of video game magazines and websites to assist them in separating the cream from the crap.

"What about franchises that don't translate into video games well?" What about them? Look, I'm not a video game programmer, but I'm pretty sure that there are months of planning done by supposedly smart people, making sure that what they invested in will make for a good product. Hell, why not have that meeting BEFORE agreeing to take on a license? That would make a hell of a lot more sense from a financial standpoint, and if the people who own the franchise turn you down, you might still have the groundwork for a great game that you could use for your own devious purposes.

Then again, "Where's Waldo?" for the NES (not the subject of this week's article) exists. The developers apparently decided to translate the concept of the book to the NES, without considering how proficient the NES was at showing detailed pictures. Without detailed pictures, "Where's Waldo?" is pointless. Fortunately, the developer of that game, Bethesda Softworks, went on to do many good things, so all's well that ends well, I guess.

"Why are you so hung up on licensed video games?" Because it's a simple idea that most companies seem to mess up. You already have a built-in audience, so all you have to do is replicate the elements that the audience enjoyed from the license and put a good game on top of it. If you're making a Batman game, then you need to make sure that all of Batman's gadgets work, and beating up people must feel satisfying. If you're making a Lord of the Rings game, then the battles need to look like they came right out of the movie, and that your actions still matter in how things turn out. If you're making a Simpsons game, then you have to include elements and music from the TV show, and then make sure that all of the other stuff works.

"Why do you keep saying that everything has to work?" Because the Wii version of "Jenga" doesn't work.

"What would you know about making a licensed product?" Actually, as part of an art class, I made a "Jurassic Park" board game. I was able to recreate the thrills of running away from (not shooting at, or playing as, which was what lazy video game designers did) dinosaurs, and make it play well, too. If I had more time to work out some minor problems with the rules, and I had a skilled artist to help make everything look good, the thing would have passed for professional quality. Oh, and I made it in middle school.

So how good can a video game based off of a comic strip from the 1910's be? In this case, it turned out to be one of the best games for the NES.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you...
While looking up the developer, I said to myself, "I hope they went on to do even better things." Then I saw that it was developed and published by Capcom in 1990, and all was good.

"Little Nemo: Dream Master" has you play as a child named Nemo, navigating him to Slumberland. The road is tricky, though, as most of the creatures you'll encounter will try to kill you. It's not helped by the fact that Nemo is not physically up to this task; he can't jump high, he's relatively slow, and he is completely incapable of killing his enemies.

Nemo's only hope of getting through each stage is to throw candy at creatures that are willing to accept it. After getting full, these creatures will fall asleep, at which point Nemo can touch them and gain abilities that change depending on which creature you've possessed.

This is genius shit. While you're not able to possess the vast majority of creature that you'll encounter (though those creatures can be temporarily stunned by your candy), you're still given access to 8 creatures that you'll need to use in order to complete each level: fish (can swim fast), frog (can jump high, and can kill enemies), gorilla (lots of health, can climb walls, can punch enemies), hermit crab (can dig in sand, can pinch enemies), hornet (can shoot stingers, has limited flight capabilities), lizard (can climb walls, very fast), mole (can dig through dirt) and mouse (can climb walls, Nemo can hit enemies with a hammer). Consider that "Super Mario Brothers 3" gave you access to 6 powers. Also, you're not really given the choice between which creature you think is best for a given situation. You use what the game gives you.

Oh, and simply getting to the end of the level won't do you much good. In order to complete a level, you have to collect 6 (most of the time) keys. They are hidden throughout the level, and most of them can only be found by possessing a creature. Now, item collecting has become a trademark of lazy platform-game developers, but this game does it right: it tells you what you have to collect, how many of them you have to collect, and getting them is not an impossible task. This also forces the player to see as much of the level as they possibly can, which makes it hard to ignore the art design.

And, well...
Look at the details given to the mushrooms. Look at the personality given off by the shrubbery. You can see a sense of emotion on Nemo's face. You can tell that jumping on that snail's back is a bad idea. It's easy on the eyes, despite the black backdrop. THIS is how you make a good-looking 8-bit game.

And it's hard. There are only 8 levels, but it's hard. And that's a good thing. Video games nowadays are way too easy, and playing something from way back when reminds me why I had such a sense of accomplishment from playing video games. The soundtrack rules, too.

There's no reason why you shouldn't track this game down. It's an excellent platformer with as much gameplay variety as "Super Mario Brothers 3". Why this isn't on the Virtual Console is beyond me. I can't recommend this game too highly. PLAY IT.

I might take a week off from writing this thing (I almost took this week off!), but that doesn't mean that I've abandoned this idea. Next column, I'll talk about an interactive movie that's completely awesome for 3/4 of the game, and then extreme disappointment for its last 1/4. It's spiritual sequel, though, is one of the most anticipated titles for 2008. Happy Holidays.

(originally published December 22nd.)

The Downey Obscure Game Report: Week One

It should be noted that saying that a video game rips off ideas from other forms of media--whether they be music, movies, novels, or other video games--is not necessarily a condemnation of said video game's quality. The "Halo" games, for example, contain elements from both "Ringworld" ("hey, look, it's a big ring, what the fuck does it do?") and "Ender's Game" ("Kill the bugs!"), but the "Halo" series has been universally acclaimed for its quality. Also, the game that many critics claimed was 2006's Game Of The Year, "Gears Of War", uses a cover mechanic that was previously used in a somewhat obscure PS2 game called "kill.switch", and yet "Gears Of War" was still praised for its innovative gameplay. In both of the previous examples, ideas that were taken from other forms of media were either approached from a new angle or improved upon so much that they might as well have come up with the idea in the first place. (Another example: the first Digimon games were virtual pets that improved on the Tamagotchi model and were released more than a year before the first Pokemon games came out, but who was the one that came out on top as the marketing juggernaut?)

Obviously, then, to say that a video game is a ripoff with negative connotations is when it's a video game that only exists because it's feeding off of a fad without adding any significant ideas to its chosen genre. This is where the inaugural DOGR comes in. It feeds off of the ninja fad of the early 90's while adding nothing for the action genre. It's not the worst game ever made (I've played MUCH worse), and in fact, this game can bring enjoyment to you, but there are some problems that I have with this game that could have been easily fixed.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you...
In case you can't read that font, it's "Wrath Of The Black Manta", created and published by Taito Corporation (now a part of Square Enix) in 1990. Taito's biggest contribution to the video game industry was the Lufia series of RPG's, which is a very hard series to hate and a very easy one to love. Outside of those games, though, Taito hasn't done much. "Wrath Of The Black Manta" is no "Lufia & the Fortress of Doom". It aspires to be a quick cash-in on the ninja craze at the time by doing what "Ninja Gaiden" did so well: great sidescrolling action with a decent storyline. I'll discuss the storyline first, since this shit gives me a headache.

Here's the setup that you get before the first stage begins:

Children have been disappearing in New York City. A few people believe that the kids are getting kidnapped, but the authorities are considering all possibilities. One day, though, Master (that's the only name that he's referred to as) found a note at the scene of one disappearance left for him by one of his students, Taro. The note says: "Please send help! We have been kidnapped and are being held near the waterfront." Master relays this message to a former student of his, the Black Manta, who vows to find Taro and bring his kidnappers to justice.

Putting any degree of critical thought into the previous paragraph reveals all sorts of plot holes. Why don't the authorities believe that the kids are being kidnapped? How could Taro write that note and place it in a spot where his teacher could find it? Why didn't Master give the note to the FBI? And why is the Black Manta wearing purple?

I should note that the rest of this plot description contains spoilers (and is completely stupid), so if you don't want this game spoiled, tough shit.

After interrogating certain underlings, some of whom don't even know the name of the organization that they're working for (this is entirely optional, by the way), the Black Manta learns that the kidnappers are actually a large, worldwide criminal organization called D.R.A.T. (there is no explanation as to what it stands for). D.R.A.T. has been kidnapping children with the intention of brainwashing them to become drug addicts and dealers. Through these brainwashed children, they hope to gain enough money and power to take over the world.

Critical thoughts: Why would the grunts agree to work for an organization that refuses to even tell them their name? How did D.R.A.T. become as powerful and expansive as it is if all it does is evil and illegal activities? Why spend the time and resources to kidnap and brainwash children when (a) all of their faces are on milk cartons by the time the brainwashing process is completed and (b) when dealing drugs is not the most reliable way of making money? Why not brainwash the children to become soldiers for your cause, instead? And furthermore, is global domination D.R.A.T.'s only cause? And seeing how the world has turned out, wouldn't a world where marijuana is legalized be considered a good thing?

The game answers that last question by saying "Don't do drugs," which has been proven to be too commanding a phrase and too single-minded to actually keep kids from doing drugs. Still, though, every time the Black Manta frees a child, he reminds them to don't do drugs. Welcome to the 90's.

I've gone through 8 paragraphs without even touching on how this game plays. Alright, here goes. It plays almost exactly as you would think an action game on the NES should play: press A to jump, press B to either slash your sword or throw a ninja star, hold down and release B to use a special ninja ability (throw a flame, become invisible, project a duplicate of yourself, etc.). There are a few awkward flying portions that play like R-Type gone stupid, and the last level contains some first-person shooting elements, but for the most part, this is "Ninja Gaiden", with an even worse storyline. You can have a maximum of 8 hit points, though you start with 3.

So, by this time, you get the idea behind the game. It's stupid, but in a funny way. There are no bugs or glitches of any kind, and getting to the first boss can easily be done without losing a life. The only problems you'll likely encounter are trying to get into hidden rooms, which are activated by throwing a ninja star at a wall while standing in the right spot (this part is much more difficult and imprecise than it should be). So what's the big deal? Why am I revisiting a 17-year-old game? What drew me to WOTBM?

Imagine that you're 4 years old. You're playing this silly ninja game, having fun, kicking ass, and laughing your butt off when you hear that the first boss is named "Tiny". Going into the battle, you think to yourself, "How hard can this be?"

And then...

Up until this point, WOTBM has been populated with silly looking characters and ridiculous dialog. Then you run into an ugly, muscular, tattooed guy the size of a building.

When Tiny jumps, a brick falls right on the spot where the Black Manta is standing; therefore, you must keep moving. Tiny jumps from right to left, and back again, meaning that there will be parts where you can barely move at all. The only way to hurt Tiny is to throw a ninja star at his head. The longest amount of time that Tiny spends on the ground, though, is approx. one second. The shortest amount of time you'll have is about half a second. If Tiny is in the air when you throw a star at him, you won't hit his head, and therefore, won't hurt him. In order to jump high enough to hit Tiny's head, you must jump as high as you can, which means holding down the A button and hitting B at the height of your jump. Tiny has 8 life points, but it takes 3 hits to remove one of his life points, effectively meaning that you'll have to hit Tiny 24 times in order to beat him. If you touch a brick or Tiny, you'll lose one point from your life bar, and remember, the most life points you can have is 8. If you die, though, you'll lose a life and go back to 3 life points, while Tiny's health is completely regenerated.

This is the hardest first boss I have ever seen. And remember, this game was made for kids.

Giving Taito the benefit of the doubt, "Wrath Of The Black Manta" has its heart in all the right places. Good intentions, though, don't make good video games. While the game screams at you to stay away from drugs, everyone who had something to do with this game, from the level designers to the graphics illustrators to the translators to the people who made the sound for the game (this game plays so much better when you mute it), seems to have been on drugs. While I wouldn't search for it on eBay, though, I can honestly say that if you can find this at a flea store, it's worth taking a look at, if only for a laugh.

So, that was this week's column. Next week, I'll take a look at one of the best licensed video games I've ever played. This, despite featuring "item-collecting" aspects that have been pointed at as hurting the genre. Oh, and despite the license being a comic strip from the early 1900's. And despite this being an NES game. If I said anymore, I'd be giving it away. Good luck on finals, everyone.

(originally posted December 13th.)

New Year, new blog.

Yeah, I had blogs going all over the place, so I might as well composite it down in one place. Or something. Downey Obscure Game Reports coming soon; until then, here's my most recent Facebook blog.

"You know, this is a time when I should look back on the past year, see what I did right, apologize to the people that I wrongly hurt, and then look forward to the New Year. But, uh, 2007 was possibly the best year of my entire life, which means that I don't exactly have a lot to regret. I took a couple of jobs, performed on stage multiple times, got a social life, returned to MCLA, and got good grades. I can only think of one huge mistake that I made this past year, and I already apologized for it.

I'm not looking forward to 2008, though. Why? Well, first of all, I'm almost certain that one of my step-relatives is going to die not long after the New Year comes. (And no, this isn't a "I have this feeling in my gut" kind of thing. This is a "They took her off of life support a couple of days ago and now we're waiting" kind of thing.) Also, with my oldest cousin graduating at the same time as the kids that were freshmen when I was a senior in high school, I'm really going to start feeling like an old man. Oh, and 2008 is an election year, and if the last two elections were any indication, our new president is going to kick off 2009 by stabbing somebody at the podium, raping their dying corpse, and then saying it was all okay, either because they were in favor of the war or because they were against the war (depending on which party wins). Did I mention that 2008 is also going to mark ten years since my dad died? Happy New Year indeed.

So, obviously, I'm turning a blind eye towards 2008. I won't have to worry about it for a little under 7 hours, anyway. So, instead, I'll just toss some thoughts out there for you to consider.

-Acting according to the wishes of spineless individuals can seem like a good idea at the time, but you'll be regretting it when your inbox gets flooded with hate mail.

-Women don't like it when you touch their toes.

-Remember the saying, "If it's free, I'm going to get my money's worth"? Yeah, that's been proven wrong.

-If their name is hard to spell or pronounce, there's a 90% chance that they are awesome.

-The phrase "child-bearing hips" is fucking hilarious and needs to be put into casual conversation as often as possible.

-If you didn't regularly watch Patriots games until they won the Super Bowl, but now consider yourself to be a big fan of them, CONGRATULATIONS, you're a douchebag. You're dumber than Yankees fans. You have less worth than Dolphins fans. Terrorists hate America because of people like you. Kill yourselves. (Note: the previous couple of statements should not be taken literally. Just know that you suck ass.)

-There's more than one way to spell "Jumanji".

With this, I now bravely, and with a heavy heart, lift up my Sprite and toast 2008, which, according to Chinese Astrology, is the Year of the Rat. Which means that Hilary Clinton is going to get elected. Fuck."