Just using training mode, it would theoretically take 4.51 days straight to gather enough points to unlock the remaining characters in Capcom vs SNK beyond what I’ve already done, and to make both Morrigan and Nakoruru playable. This is ignoring the fact that I’ve not yet faced Gouki. Buying his stage, his character, and the other modes which he unlocks would raise the total up quite a bit higher. Beyond him, there are still a few features left ungathered.
Of course, one can only gather 999 points at a time in training mode before it has to be reset — and one can get around 400-500 points simply by playing through arcade mode (not even doing especially well), which takes far less time than the forty to fifty minutes which would required in training. Also, had I the DC link cable, I do own copies of both Card Fighters Clash and Match of the Millennium for the NGPC. So I’m sure I could get some points out of this business, if I just had a method to transfer them. But I don’t, and cables are rare and expensive — they were even when the NGPC was still alive.
Averaging 500 points per game, I’d only have to play through 130 more times in order to get enough points. Averaging a more sensible 400, I’d have to play through around 162 times. On the other hand, I could leave it in training mode again — for an hour and forty minutes each time — around 65 more times.
Just in order to finally purchase Nakoruru (I’d rather Morrigan, but I’ve mostly been ignoring the Capcom characters — so this goal is pretty far off (ah well; at least Nako’s sprite is new and pretty. unlike the grizzly artifact from 1994 or so which Capcom is still using for Morrigan)), I’d only have to play the game through (at 400 points per game) 57 more times. That, or leave the Dreamcast soaking in training on 23 further occasions. It would only take 38 more hours.
Oy. Capcom, in the future could you please be a little less annoying? This isn’t terribly reasonable. Especially given the difficulty level of the game (even when set on the easiest notch) and the extent to which you’ve torn apart my favourite characters, you’re really pushing your luck here.
Take a hint from Namco. Soul Calibur is I think the one instance I’ve personally seen where this process is done /right/ — where it’s actually *interesting* to unlock new features; where there is motivation and interaction through nearly the whole process. It took a few months for me personally to unlock everything possible (including buying up all of the final not-entirely-necessary art pieces and getting the “cleared” title screen), but it rarely felt like work.
I certainly wasn’t just leaving the game to sit without me, waiting for it to steep. I was eager to play through with each character (rather than seeing it as a chore), because the game was actually fun to play. The two-on-two mode which I’ve recently unlocked in CvS does seem quite a bit much more enjoyable and fair-feeling than Arcade mode could ever hope to be, but there are still some big inherent problems with balance.
Something else which is recently making the game more enjoyable is that some of the EX versions of characters manage to either fix the necessary moves which Capcom inexplicably crippled in the characters’ normal variations, or at least provide alternatives which make them a bit more competitive and interesting to use. (Worse are the cases such Terry, Mai, Kim, King, and Yuri. where a character’s standard set of moves are dismantled and spread across the normal and EX versions of the characters — and even worse are those such as Iori and Ryo, in which critical moves and elements of character control are either removed or altered drastically enough to make them feel like other characters altogether.)
Combine these with the much-desired original soundtrack which I’ve unlocked, and a few other cozy features, and things aren’t as annoying as they used to be. But the thing is, the unlocking process is a separate chore. One accumulates points at such a slow pace, and so many are needed for even the simplest features, that it takes forever to seem to make even a dent in the game. Further, when the process of collecting points is separated so much from one’s actual in-game activity (unlike the mission mode in Soul Calibur, where one accomplished specific tasks for specific rewards), then one feels no personal attachment to the process of unlocking. It doesn’t feel like accomplishment. It doesn’t feel like anything’s been earned. I took pride in completing Soul Calibur, as everything I accomplished I did by my own power. With Capcom vs SNK, the only thing required (indeed, the only thing which does much good) is an abundance of patience.
Again, this would not be a huge issue if other factors were not in the way. I can be a very patient person, as evidenced by the fact that I’m actually bothering to do all of this and I’m not complaining overly much about the process. It’s what’s required, and so I’ll do it simply because posterity so dictates. But one must wait for a very, very long time and the game simply isn’t enough fun on its own (due to the overall result of its design) to motivate a person to do so.
Ugh.
However, it seems Capcom have (sort of) been learning a bit from their mistakes. While they pulled this stunt in a few high-profile games they released in 2000, Capcom vs SNK 2 has only a couple of unimportant things to unlock. I’m not sure whether this is the right route to go either, as it always is nice to throw in a few extra things here and there outside of the normal and default game experience.
The typical pedantic hardcore mantra is that secrets and extra features are “fluff” and irrelevant. A lousy game isn’t made good by throwing in extra busy work and toys, and it’s supposedly annoying to hide the “good stuff” even in a good game. In message boards and newsgroups, people go on and on, tooting their own horns on the issue. Ideally these people would be having black boxes for sprites (no pretty character design and animation to distract them), with short “beep”s as audio cues. Those might even be seen as a luxury.
I’ve further read people scoff that any game would have unlockable features, as obviously the first thing anyone does is to download a completed save file so he can just play the thing unperturbed by the false barriers supposedly thrown in by marketing in order to increase play time.
I think it’s safe to say that I am not a hardcore gamer. Furthermore I hope not to be a hardcore anything.
Capcom vs SNK is a perfect example, however, for their primary point — which is a valid one, up to its own particular degree. (As with anything else, there is a need for balance.) It is a so-so game which is simply made annoying through its preponderance of locked material — much of which is not simply “extra” material (as I would consider Nakoruru and Morrigan’s characters, since they are obviously extraneous to and fantastical within the context of the game as a whole) but which is needed in order to make the game feel somewhat complete. However, even with this extra data there’s still an irritating amount left omitted simply by the game’s design — and no amount of extra hidden material could ever make up for this fact.
Soul Calibur and Dead or Alive 2 are other interesting examples of how far the concept can be taken in each direction. Soul Calibur is one of the most excellent fighting games which has ever been made, and it happened to be matched with one of the best systems of extra features (most of which were truly “extra” in one way or another) and methods of discovery which has been in any game of its sort. Soul Calibur is a great game, but the added value of its surplus of surrounding material and the engaging way of gathering this material makes the game all the much better.
The game’s world is gradually enhanced, and through mastery of the game and exploration, the single player is constantly rewarded. Even though it’s just a fighting game, Soul Calibur is one of the deepest and most satisfying games I’ve ever played. Without all of this surrounding material, it would merely just been fun to play. And there’s only so long you can play through arcade mode on your own, and still have fun doing it.
Dead or Alive 2 came quickly afterward, and seemed to promise stiff competition for the best 3D Dreamcast fighter. The game itself is entertaining enough. In some ways it’s deeper than Soul Calibur, while in others more shallow. It has its own feel, and it’s an adequate one. The real problem is that this is all there is. The game has a very solid engine and is reasonably fun to play, but there is nothing more to be done with the game once you’ve tinkered around with arcade mode for a few hours.
One can learn to use all of the characters, and play against other people (if one happens to have friends), and that’s fine; that’s a large part of the core point of a fighting game. But as a home game, and as a complete package, it is severely lacking. There isn’t even the complex plot one finds in Soul Calibur — nor are the character designs anywhere nearly as interesting. The character models are a bit more complex, but they all look like plastic blow-up dolls with different hair and clothes. They have no particular personality. There’s literally nothing to unlock, aside from the hidden ability to restore that nude Kasumi scene in the intro. (I suppose that would be enough to satiate the people who would find Kasumi interesting enough to be attractive.) No extra characters (not even the last boss), no extra rounds, no extra modes, no art gallery, no extra music, no extra options, no extra costumes, and certainly nothing original and creative.
So it’s an okay game, which one plays for a few hours and then, once everything interesting has been studied, puts away forever, at least in terms of the game itself. There’s no reason to keep playing, and as a complete game it really suffers. Again, the game is reasonably fun. If it offered something engaging which simply could not be found elsewhere, then maybe that would be enough on its own. But it’s just another fighting game — a very pretty one, with a sort of interesting system. The same way that Grandia II is a very pretty RPG with a sort of interesting system. It’s simply not original enough, and doesn’t have enough personality, to stand on its own — as solid as its underlying structure might be.
While it might not be true that a fundamentally bad game can be made worthwhile by the addition of bonus fluff, and while an amazing game doesn’t particularly need any filler, it’s exactly this sort of game which suffers for a lack of it. The game is capable and well-made, but there is nothing particularly unique to hold one’s interest for an extended period. If there were a handful of extra elements with which to toy around, if for nothing else than to break up the monotony, then it would reflect back on the existing material, making what is already there all the much more captivating. If enough of the right notes were hit in its presentation, the game could become something really memorable. Maybe not quite good enough, but at least substantial enough to be one of the elite.
Capcom vs SNK 2, from what I hear, is more than complex enough to hold one’s interest for quite an extended period even despite some continued niggling issues carried over from its predecessor — and this is good. My real point, however, is that I hope Capcom isn’t simply going from one extreme to the other and missing the point entirely in the process. It really helps a lot to have some extra material in a fundamentally shallow sort of a game such as this (as infinitely complex as the internal mechanics and the actual process of mastery might be). Otherwise, the game just becomes a toy.
It’s been shown that nearly any type of game has the potential to be far more than that, and it would be nice to see if they’ve come to understand this principle. They certainly have the talent, and occasionally one sees where they could have the heart. There are only so many worthwhile developers out there these days, and the good ones (Sega, SNK, Treasure) always seem to be in the worst shape. Capcom are in a better place than most to carry on the ideal, and it’s irritating to see themselves constantly missing the mark by just enough that it’s obvious they simply weren’t trying hard enough.
Hrm.
Anyway, there’s that.