videogames

Cell division

  • Reading time:6 mins read

Legally, I must comment that Metroid Prime has the best music in the world.

Something weird comes over me, just sitting and listening to the theme which plays behind the game options menu (one button-press past the title screen).

Game music has done odd things with my emotions on numerous previous occasions. It has ever since the original Legend of Zelda, where the first time I placed the game into my NES I simply stared at the TV for what might have been half an hour for all I know, listening to Kondo’s lilting title theme and watching the item scroll. It does when I watch the opening FMV to the first Sonic Adventure. The Phantasy Star II score has done mountains for me.

But even in the best game scores — Jet Set Radio, Streets of Rage, Ninja Gaiden II — generally the best that happens is that they impress the hell out of me and then that’s that. And even in the cases where I’ve been struck more deeply (for one reason or another), generally it’s been a single blow — often a manipulative one — in an otherwise so-so score.

Frankly, the reason the intro to Sonic Adventure does a weird job with my chest lies more in the direction of the intro sequence and my own personal share of nostalgia than anything about the music on its own. Heck, I’m not even very fond of half of the music in that game for its own merit. What music I do like well is mostly from Kumatani Fumie’s end of the stick rather than that of Jun Senoue.

Kenji Yamamoto has done something different here. I can’t explain it rationally. But it fucks with my head. The more I listen to it, the more this becomes true.

I’m afraid I’m going to develop a nervous condition, playing this game.

A bigger one, I mean.

I find this interesting, as I’ve honestly never been as impressed with the Super Metroid score as just about everyone else on the planet. It didn’t come near to Hip Tanaka’s original vision, or even the chirpy B-ambience of Return of Samus (a soundtrack which I still contend has never gotten its proper due). Super Metroid‘s music was appropriate, well-written, and… there. It suited the game, and sounded Metroidy.

But this? Ye god.

…

Again, I feel more or less exactly as I felt when I was eight and Zelda was new. And this fact is all the more peculiar just because I’m no longer eight years old. Zelda isn’t new. Metroid isn’t new. I’ve played so many games. I’ve seen so many conventions. Cleverness and skill and joy and wonder are about the best I can expect. That anyone can expect who has been around as long as I have.

There just isn’t a lot out there which feels new anymore. There aren’t any more revelations. There’s no new life to discover.

But perhaps there is.

And perhaps it’s not in Japan?

Who would have thought.

It’s not that this game is anything so totally original that it should — taken as a mass of parts — be as much of a breakthrough as Zelda. We’ve seen most of the elements here in at least some form before, for years on end. Some of the incarnations perhaps aren’t even all that different.

Half-Life was a step away from its FPS roots, and toward a more evolved gaming sensibility — and look at where that got it. Metroid Prime, I suppose, a person could consider the next logical step in this direction. Except that when you pull its laces, this is something else entirely.

I guess the way one could put it is that what this game feels like is something close to a culmination of what we’ve learned over the past thirty years of game design. Someone managed to boil it down and make The Game — or something like it. After all of the struggling since the last checkpoint, suddenly we’ve got progress. And we’re allowed to move on.

I’ve not played Eternal Darkness yet, but it’s worth noting again that this game was developed by an American studio, with aid from Nintendo. I imagine it’s got its flaws, but it still sounds like that game did a hell of a lot more right than most games have been doing lately. And like it had a solid vision to it.

Edit:

Nintendo has been doing a lot for the industry lately. They’ve gone through some pretty huge changes in attitude since the glory days of the NES, and now seem to be pretty much content to be Nintendo. I keep harping on that Q-fund thing of Yamauchi’s, but I feel it’s a lot more important than it looks. It fits right in with the recent “apprenticeship” system of game design that Miyamoto’s been pioneering, and what Nintendo’s been doing with second and third parties.

They’ve got the money and the expertise, so they’re investing it in the next generation. They won’t have it forever. Miyamoto won’t be around forever. Nintendo won’t be. But the art will remain, the skills will flourish. And maybe someone else will march on to victory, birthed from the seeds of that knowledge and support.

Sure, Nintendo is acting in Nintendo’s best interest — but they don’t have to do it in such an enlightened way. The fact that they are, says mountains to me and sets a tremendous example for the rest of the industry.

I think we’re closing in on a new era here. And it’s not going to come from where we expect. The old guard is starting to break down. The entire old infrastructure.

Just look at all of the shit happening in the industry right now. If you’re clinging to the old ways, it’s bad news. And it’s pretty scary. But there’s a new wind in the air, and just about everyone is clueless about it so far. If there’s any time to block one’s sails, I think this is it.

And dammit, I want a copy of this soundtrack.

Brinstone, you say?

  • Reading time:2 mins read

So my GameCube came today, with its complementary copy of Metroid Prime.

My comments so far:

  1. Whoa. Damn.
  2. … I need a memory card.

Is it just me, or do Nintendo really pack their stuff well? Opening each of my GBA and my Gamecube for the first time (in their respective moments), I got a rush of nostalgia. When was the last new device I opened which seemed so lovingly, sturdily boxed? I can’t remember. My Genesis?

Opening this thing, I got the distinct impression that I was unveiling to myself something uncommonly important. Something which would stick with me and last for years.

Not a feeling one gets much from electronic devices these days.

Particularly not Sony devices.

Odd, that.

Wow, that remixed music sounds good.

Why does it make me giggle, the first time I hear Samus’s theme in any new Metroid game?

Or the item power-up theme, for that matter?

Wow, there’s a lot of text in this game. I wonder who thought up all of this background info. Does it say in the credits? I don’t want to walk downstairs for my game case. I’ll look later. Was it someone from Retro? Would NCL have given them such free license? The game does a better join tying together and explaining the Metroid universe in the first half hour than the other four do, put together.

Intelligent Systems, my hindquarters!

Yes.

You just don’t know, I tell you.

I think this is an example of how the third dimension can be used to add more than just spatial depth to a game. It’s a similar phenomenon to what I saw in Sonic Adventure, only… much more so. Much more seamless.

To mention:

This game doesn’t seem to come from anywhere. It doesn’t feel Western. It doesn’t feel distinctly Japanese. It… feels like the love child of Metroid and Myst. Only more so.

Oh god. Oh god. The nose. Must do something.

Juice me up!

I have an orange.

  • Reading time:1 mins read

I got my first issue of Game Developers magazine today. I’ve not really leafed through it in much detail, although I notice an ad for those new Nokia phones that Sega’s planning to support. Actually, there seems to be a pretty big focus on cell phones in this issue. And Lara Croft. Hrm. Tetsuya Mizuguchi appears in a few places with his frosted hair. The cover story is on facial animation and… what appears to be some PC strategy game with which I’m not really familiar.

Also included with this issue was a brochure for the upcoming Game Developers Conference in March. Guh, it’s that soon?

I dreamed in completely non-fluent Japanese, last night. I think I was on a train the whole time.

… I seem to be unusually sensitized right now. Everything feels and sounds and looks about five hundred percent stronger than it should. I hope this calms down, soon. It’s… not very comfortable.

End of report.

Edit: The editor-in-chief of this magazine is female!

The Power Base

  • Reading time:1 mins read

Looking at power base converter…

What is gaming coming to? Used to be such a physical ingenuity to everything…

“Bnurp, bni-bip, bnurp, bni-bip…” (the Hero Team theme)

  • Reading time:4 mins read

Okay. This port seems to have quite a bit of replay value. Aside from the puzzle and survival modes (each of which has to be unlocked), there’s also a gallery filled with all kinds of locked pictures — several pages’ worth. I’m not sure how they’re freed and if they have any real effect, but — well, there’s simply a lot more to do here than in any of the other DC ports. The only one which is in the same league, at least in terms of unlockable features, is ’99 Evolution — what with the store and the Another Strikers which can be purchased. And yet that port still doesn’t offer as much variety as 2001 has.

It seems that the move list is accessible in every mode. This is good. Even if it’s a little bare-bones.

Also, it seems to me that the music is… slightly arranged. It’s no OST, but everything is at a pretty high sampling rate and there are a few neat phasing effects on top. Generally, it sounds much more well-produced than the original Neo-Geo version. My comment about how it didn’t irritate me anymore? Well, it still stands — but now I know why. It doesn’t sound like screeching, rhythmic flatulence anymore. The music itself still isn’t very well-written, but at least it’s of a respectable quality now. So benig the largely unmelodic trance techno that it is, it now just… disappears into the background. Heck, I actually sort of like a couple of the themes. Kind of. Not a lot, but… well, at least it’s a little better.

I notice that the alternate backgrounds are randomly selected in versus mode. In practice mode you can choose which you want to use (out of about forty total, including the remixed 2001 ones), but — I like this, somehow; the fact that they just show up in versus mode. It makes the game feel more full, somehow.

It would be nice if there were a few more options, like being able to set how the compter will tend to use strikers. (Invariably, it will choose three fighters and one striker on its own accord.)

Puzzle mode is… interesting. It doesn’t really work as much like Tetris as it looks. And it follows the same story mode as the team and single games.

Speaking of the story: It’s still all in Japanese. Good thing I basically know all of the endings already.

Whereas the Neo-Geo version felt pretty drab in general, there’s a lot of energy and variety which has been added to the DC port. I still think some more (simple) things could have been done, but — well. All things considered. A bit of work actually went into this port; more so than in the case of any of Playmore’s or SNK’s last few efforts (2000, MotW, Last Blade 2).

Weird thing is, the game doesn’t seem to really buffer its data very well. When character portraits are loaded before each battle, for instance, you can hear the DC’s laser go nuts and you can see the graphics occasionally stutter as the game waits for new data to be loaded. This seems a little shabby, although it doesn’t really hurt anything. I don’t recall any of the previous ports being coded quite this way, although I hear people complain about streaming audio in MotW all the time. (I’ve never particularly noticed any problems.)

Really, there’s not a lot to complain about here. So a few bits of graphical data aren’t buffered well. So they didn’t include any classic music from the earlier games. So the extra levels (even the fixed ones from 2001!) aren’t available in story mode, for whatever reason. And it’s lacking a few minor options. Oh, and again there’s no English option.

These are all more nitpicks than anything. All in all, this is certainly one of the better Neo-Geo ports there’s been for the system. It sort of makes up for most of the big flaws in 2001, and it adds a bunch of other stuff besides. I think the game (already one of the best in the series; just ugly as hell) has been made a lot more palatable in the process. It feels, though… I think this port must have been done by a different team than whoever did the last couple of games. The general style strikes me as somehow different — just as much as the game itself does.

The Five Point Shuffle

  • Reading time:3 mins read

Why did I try to shovel snow while wearing sandals?

So I’ve got my copy of KoF2001. The control is crisper and more responsive than I rememnber. The soundtrack, though otherwise unchanged, seems to contain higher-quality samples than the Neo-Geo version. Somehow it doesn’t annoy me as much as it used to. Maybe I’m just used to it by now? I used to loathe the soundtrack to this game, but now I barely even hear it even if I’m trying to pay attention.

There’s a movelist included, although — for whatever reason — it’s been tied to the taunt button. And it’s only available in practice mode, it seems. And there are not only a large handful of backgrounds from each of the earlier games (’94-2000 — particularly 2000; I think all of the stages are available), but all of the original, crummy 2001 backdrops? They’ve been remixed. They’re not as washed-out. Many layers of scrolling have been added, as has a bunch of extra animation. The painful racetrack level has simply been redone from the ground up. It’s still ugly, but it doesn’t make me feel ill anymore.

Problem is, none of the new backgrounds are available in the actual game. In practice and versus modes you can access any level you like — but in-game? It doesn’t even use the improved backgrounds. You just get the flat, drab, original versions. I don’t get it.

Haven’t touched the puzzle mode yet, as I’d have to unlock it. Not quite together enough to play a fighting game very well tonight, although I surprised myself by getting off a couple of K9999’s tougher DMs (exactly once, each — though on the first try, for the one).

Generally, seems like a decent port. It doesn’t taste the same as the DC version of 2000, though. I find this odd. 2000 seemed a lot like the ports of MotW and Last Blade 2. 2001… I’m not sure. Everything about this game is just a little off. It always has been. But the port follows this trend. Can’t quite place this feeling, yet. Not sure if it’s positive, negative, or neutral.

Is it just me, or does KoF2001 feel really… Korean? I never noticed it before. Neither can I exactly quantify why I say this. Something about the layout, and the design of the new characters, and the general overtone. Something about the exact kind of brightness combined with graininess and… almost disturbing oddness. Not a Japanese oddness, though. This comes from a different psychological place entirely.

Gangs of New York: It was. The Leonardo DiCaprio character was about the only uninteresting one in the movie, and (as the hero) he wasn’t really intended to stand out. Still seemed a little awkward, but I’ll ignore that under the weight of some of the achievements here. A ton of research went into the most throwaway details for this movie. And I was surprised by how large a part Boss Tweed ended up playing.

And now I’ve a better context for the burning of Barnum’s museum.

Kind of too tired to go into more detail at the moment. Lots of good stuff in here, though. Not quite sure about certain decisions and certain choices in editing, but there wasn’t anything which really harmed the effect.

Sometimes exaggeration — as in this case — is needed in order to get the point across. And I think this movie had an interesting and worthwhile point to make clear, in terms of the conceptions we’ve been handed about our history.

Phantasy Star Collection (GBA/THQ)

  • Reading time:1 mins read

by [name redacted]

Phantasy Star II, on a Game Boy. How surreal.

Here we’ve got one of the most important videogames of all time, prohibitively expensive at release for the then-new Sega Genesis. Now the game rests on a 1-1/2″ x 2-1/4″ silicon wafer, shouldered by both its predecessor and its successor. Together, the three games now go for less than thirty dollars, and are accessible anywhere you can tote your Hello-Kitty-pink Gameboy Advance.

( Continue reading at Insert Credit )

At the end of the time which can never be returned to…

  • Reading time:2 mins read

Without a doubt, the most meaningful moment of Phantasy Star: End of the Millennium, in my eyes: the opening sequence.

Wow. I mean, just… the power. The timing. The music. The choice of words (translation aside). The frankness, and yet the subtlety.

Especially after coming off of Phantasy Star II, and knowing what happened in that game, and the note on which it ended. We were… really left in a cliffhanger there. And now it’s shown what the results were of the catastrophes we all witnessed five years earlier.

Just… shit, quite frankly. How lucid and matter-of-fact it all is.

Every time I watch that intro, I get a chill up and down my spine. Sometimes my eyes begin to get a little bleary.

The game itself, I feel is in some respects the least interesting out of the entire series. It’s certainly the best made, but there’s almost nothing new in it. It’s not about new things; it’s about old ones; about reframing, about bringing everything together, and about closure on the most satisfying note possible. The game definitely has charm to it, and I don’t think there’s ever been a better gift given to a series’ fans than EotM — but in some ways it feels so much like every other RPG out there that it loses my attention rather quickly.

Also, in terms of the story and surrounding details, EotM has so much to say that it never really gives the player time to rest and to get to know the world again. It’s too busy throwing things out, one after the other. Twenty to thirty hours straight of exposition, in comparison to only brief glimpses at overt explanation or reference in the previous games. Maybe for someone with the energy, and who doesn’t mind being yanked around by the arm for an entire game, it’s a little more enjoyable.

Of course, I’m just being a sourpuss here. There’s really nothing wrong with EotM that I can see. But maybe that’s another part of why it bores me so much.

Still, it has its moments…

gah.

Adventure theory

  • Reading time:8 mins read

I love all of these pop-up ads. “Is PORNOGRAPHY saved on your PC? Stop wondering and check now!”

Like I really need help to figure out where my porn is.

Here’s the value of the impression of near-infinite possibilities in a game world or system (“world” being a generalized term from here on out) — they give the impression that there is more to the world at hand than what the player is directly being fed; that something exists outside of whatever specific tasks lie in the player’s path. This creates a sense of place, and of being within that place.

As a result, the player becomes more involved and atached to his or her actions — and those actions become more enjoyable and interesting. The game becomes more personal due to this sense of being; you can say that the game world has a deeper personality — that it is greater than a simple reach of understanding. Just as a character becomes more interesting and “real” as his or her personality becomes more complex. Just as either complexity or near complete mystery make a character more fascinating. Either way, it’s difficult to entirely pigeonhole the character.

Next topic.

Is it just me, or are Nintendo’s major games starting to all feel very similar? I got this when playing Metroid. I realized at some point that it feels like Super Mario World, or Zelda 3. They’re starting to mush together now. Distinct and interesting characters and slightly different mechanics are about all that separate them. Same concept almost exactly; made out of the same elements. Super Bomb and Speed Boost blocks are exactly the same as bricks and Question Mark Blocks and Exclamation Blocks and… it goes on. Castlevania, although it lately tries hard to mimic the Nintendo style of design, still manages to feel a little different. Not necessarily better, but at least it still kind of works on its own rule set. It ends up at about the same place, but through a slightly different combination of elements.

To step on a tangent here: the recent games are obviously inspired by Nintendo’s style as much as they are by the earlier action-based Castlevania. The games are a little less refined and focused, however. There is a wide variety of items which serve no really useful and special purpose (even for the sake of collection, which is itself becoming a tiresome goal). The level design is good, but disorganized. New weapons and abilities are often neglected outside of a few specialized situations. There’s a lot of clutter, put to little use. And yet, they are competent (Igarashi’s more so than those of They Who One Were Kobe). In the case of HoD, even somewhat organic.

I don’t think I’m going to include many more items than will be actually be useful, in my own game.

Next topic.

PC-style adventure games work on more or less the same set of concepts as the console-style adventure, only the setbacks are of a different nature. Less action-oriented problem solving. In the Lucasfilm/Sierra games, puzzles tend to be item- and riddle-based. In the Myst style, they tend to be wholly environmental and logical in nature. There is no real inventory, as in the other styles of game. One’s tools are all in one’s own mind, and in what mental devices one is able to cobble together from the enironment at hand.

The Lucas-type, character-based adventures are a little more clumsy and less pure, in a sense; they rely on physical items as the machines, or often merely as the keys to other machines. They lay everything out for the player, and all one is expected to do is figure out what goes where, and how (logically or not). Bring item x to locatino y in order to open door z. The more interesting mechanics tend to be a little more sophisticated; they involve deciphering the use of certain machines, either within the inventory or the environment.

Occasionally there is the element of deciding what action to take with these machines, upping the player’s involvement, but also the potential frustration if the game isn’t designed well enough to deal with its own system. This is a carry-over from the Infocom and Zork days.

The console-style adventure has more of a tendency to be action-based. Environmental and mechanical logic puzzles are rare, although inventory-based “key” puzzles are not uncommon. Often, however, the “keys” are integrated into the character. Rather than existing as random icons, they become facets of the character or additions to its moveset.

The “doors” which are opened (machines operated) with these keys often — at least in the Nintendo system — are in the obvious default shape of blocks. All manner of blocks! A relatively pure example of this mechanic is Mario. A combination of this concept with an inventory would be Zelda. A halfway point is Metroid — where items are gradually accumulated, but add directly to the character mechanics rather than an inventory.

Biohazard is an incoherent amalgam of the inventory-based Lucasfism-style game with a second mechanism, that links resource management with an awkward battle system. Where this becomes frustrating is in the combination of action and scarcity. The game does not control very well, and is based around surprising the player with difficult-to-manage situations. Due to much earlier errors and indiscretions, it is not at all uncommon to become stuck in a stalmate of sorts where the player has no recourse but failure. The player can become trapped in a very real way, causing all of his or her dedication and patience to come to nothing.

This is poor design. There should always be a mechanism for escape and eventual progress. This is similar to the flaws in a powerup-based shooter like Gradius; one mistake, and it can be next to impossible to recovr. The difference is, in Gradius it is usually possible — if incredibly difficult — to build one’s self back up to where one used to be. In a well-balanced fighting game, a player with little remaining health should still be capable of winning, given enough skill. This isn’t always the case with Biohazard.

What makes a game like Mario or Zelda or Metroid so satisfying, conceptually, is the variety in its callenges, and in how ineffably they blend togeter as pieces of a larger coherent whole. That is, the integral elements of each system all tie into a common scope of reference, making each independent system merely one aspect of interaction with the game world given.

If simple exploration on its own isn’t enough in Metroid, one has a gradually-expanding set of character based “keys” to use, and one knows that related “doors” might potentially be anywhere. If none of these abilities are enough, there is an implicit trust between the player and the game that a later ability will solve the problem. If there are no more abilities to be gotten, then the solution must be something that the player has overlooked.

Where Metroid Fusion failsm ir at least pushes its luck, is by either breaking or stretching that trust which has been built up through three previous games as well as by the inherent makeup of Fusion itself. The player is often trapped through the course of the game, occasionally in a precarious situation, with only one unobvious, difficult-to-detect, means of escape — either to safety or simply to further progress. The game is somewhat redeemed by allowing that escape, but such frustration is trying on the player. After a few situations like this, it becomes obvious that something is just not right with what the game is asking of the player. It’s abusive.

Ultimately, the game can be beaten by anyone with the perseverence, and every item can be obtained — a crucial point of Metroid’s appeal — however the game doesn’t always play fair.

Beyond this, the puzzles have become terribly overt and incongruous. They’re clever, sure, but obviously contrived to fill a formula. The entire body of the game carries this mark of contrivance. Fusion feels like Nintendo By Numbers; pieced together by a design team either rushed, lazy, inexperienced with a game of this sort (and yet observant of its obvious qualities).

The game is clever; not creative. The surrounding elements and the game concept are creative (in terms of the new elements introduced, and the elegant reinvention that they necessitated). This is part of what makes the game so confusing, for me.

And I’m tired. And my copy of Phantasy Star Collection has actually moved from its resting spot in New Orleans, where its’ been for over a week. Now it’s been sitting in Portland since last night. They didn’t bother to bring it over today, for whatever reason. Hm.

Oh GOD, is that Samus’s…

  • Reading time:9 mins read

Something weird about Metroid Fusion… it doesn’t let you get all of the items the first time through. The last powerup you get in the game is the screw attack (obtained through a very strange source) , and about 40% of the breakable walls in the game require said screw attack. And yet, once you get said screw attack, the plot leashes you into exactly one path and locks all other doors which might be a distraction to you. So all you can do is go forward and beat the game, essentially.

And so I wasted all of this time prowling around, flaunting my curiosity against the linear paths along which I was directed, expecting to be able to at least find all or most of the items if I wasn’t going to finish the game quickly enough. No, though. I take forever to finish and I’m only allowed to collect just over 60% of the items in the game. Hrmn.

One thing which might balance this out is that I now have a “complete” save that apparently unlocks all of the doors which should have already been that way and allows me to play from my last save point. Now my only problem is all of the blocks which are supposed to be broken with a dash attack yet which aren’t surrounded by nearly enough space to allow said dashing to occur. Not sure what to do about that.

But yeah. I’ve finished the game. I got the “Hi, I’m Samus. Admire my armour.” ending, as expected — but it does appear that the game leaves open the possibility for more.

The last portion of the game seemed somewhat unfulfilling to me. Things were just starting to get interesting, when the game merely… ended. There weren’t any really interesting showdowns or anything — at least in terms of boss mechanics. I’m not sure how thrilled I am by the choices for final bosses either, though. I mean, they were all either pretty much expected or… well. The last boss really fell pretty flat. It’s obviously intended as an homage to Metroid II, to which this game tries to be a sequel as much as it does to the third game. But… hum.

The endgame just feels rushed to me; a last-minute shuffle of Metroid elements from the past (there was almost literally nothing new here), plus the forced linear path. The plot was just beginning to pick up some steam. The tension was just starting to build. Things were just starting to get really difficult. The level design was just starting to fall together. And then that was it.

That said, the series now seems to have been kicked off again on a new path. Where Super Metroid did its part in ending things, Fusion finishes the job and then opens up some new threads for the future. This is… well, a decent bridge game. I guess. It had all of the elements to be something really momentous, but in the end this is just Chapter Four. It’s King of Fighters ’99. (Okay, ’99 was chapter five — but that’s also including ’94, which was more a prologue than a plot chapter.)

Hey, KoF began the same year that the last Metroid game was made. And now that it’s gone through two plot arcs, Metroid’s come back for what looks like it’s intended to be the beginning of its second arc. Hmm.

Fusion, for me, does more to raise questions about the next Metroid than it satisfies as a game on its own. Sure, it’s by leaps and bounds the best game on the GBA so far (since mine is still in the design phase). It’s captivating for as long as it lasts. There’s a lot of great stuff introduced here, and there’s more plot than in the other three Metroids combined (and probably Prime as well). But very little of that stuff is really exploited as well as it could be.

There’s not enough game here — and I don’t just mean that the thing is short, which it certainly is (albeit longer than Harmony of Dissonance). It feels more like a test run for a New-Style Metroid, to see how well it works out. It works just great! But… I’d like more than just a demo, y’know?

All three of the previous games felt satisfactory. If nothing else, there was a bunch more to explore, and they’d let you explore it rather than blocking off entranceways and locking doors whenever they felt the need to confine you for reasons of the plot. Once you got a new ability, you had a chance to use it for a while. I mean. What the hell is the use of the screw attack in this game? And why does… he give it to you?

Fusion is an experiment at making a linear Metroid. And… it succeeds to some extent, but it takes things too far. The level design is not constructed around exploration; it’s constructed as a cleverly-intertwined series of more or less direct paths from point A to B to C to D. There are some detours allowed, and a few confined bits of mandatory tile-searching thrown in attempt to appease the audience — but they’re all more or less scripted events within that linear framework. It’s got an interesting plot which falls into cliche near the end and then is abruptly cut short at what feels like the three-quarter mark (without really capitalizing on some of the tension and the setup established through the earlier portions of the game).

So. Hrm. How do I feel about this game? To be entirely honest, I think it thrills me the least of the four main Metroids so far. (Prime is another story, as I don’t even have a GameCube yet.) Some of this I know is just due to my expectations for what a Metroid game is supposed to be — as not all of them are met to my utmost satisfaction here. I came in anticipating one thing and then I was constantly pulled in other directions the entire way through, no matter how much I attempted to force the issue and to play the game like, well, Metroid. I didn’t want to rush through, and in the end this reluctance got me nothing. The game essentially gives you no good reason not to blow through it as quickly as you can manage. Then later it gives you the opportnuity to poke around for whatever you might have missed, after-the-fact.

So okay, let’s take it as a linear, plot-based action/adventure game. The plot is intriguing, but it doesn’t follow through on some of the major themes and tensions that it spends hours building up. The end doesn’t do much except serve as an ending by default of it being at the end. I really like the addition of plot sequences to Metroid, and the new action-based mechanics are terrific. But the bosses in the middle are astoundingly, overwhelmingly difficult while the last few bosses only took me a few tries in total to get past. That one boss requires nothing more than to stay away from him and to shoot missiles as quickly as possible. Compared to some of the earlier bosses in the game, this is just silly. As a linear game, Fusion feels incomplete. It feels like the beginning of the soap opera era of Metroid. Stay tuned for Metroid 5, where we might actually do something with all of these neat new ideas with which we’ve taunted you for the last ten hours or so.

And yet, aside from all of these complaints, it’s still Metroid. And it’s enjoyable, for what it is. And again, there’s a bunch of great stuff in here — including some pretty daring experiments with what Metroid can be.

Is Metroid falling into one of those odd/even sequences, like Star Trek and Final Fantasy? Metroids 1 and 3 are the “standard” games in the series. 2 and 4 are both experiments with the formula, and both introduced a bunch of plot elements, experiments with the game mechanics, and a redesign for Samus. Maybe Metroid 5 will do with what’s been created in Fusion what Super Metroid did with what was introduced in Return of Samus, sifting through for the best of the new elements and then threading them back into the traditional Metroid framework?

I guess that’s not a bad way to go. Make a safe game, then experiment. Use those experiments to make another safe game. Then experiment. And so on.

Maybe Fusion will grow on me if I spend more time with it. The only problem is that every time through the game, I’ll have to deal with the whole linear aspect again. When I replay the earlier Metroids, I’m left alone to do whatever I’m able and to explore in peace. I don’t feel like selecting “restart” without finding the rest of the items in my complete save, so I can’t test out how much the game will meddle with me the second time through or if it’ll leave everything unlocked (as it’s done for the moment).

One other thing — you get to see Samus’ eyes once in the course of the game.

So.

I guess I should write that review, now. Then maybe get started on that Sonic thing. But then I’ve got both homework to do and a test to study for in Physics. (I figure the one should suffice for the other, given that the test will be over the very same material that’s in the homework.) I also need to ask for help from a guy who doesn’t particularly like me. And there’s a bunch of stuff I’ve been putting off in concerns with the game.

Note to Intelligent Systems

  • Reading time:4 mins read

Turning off Save Points — for any length of time — IS A PAIN IN THE ASS. Especially in the vicinity of the toughest boss yet so far. Especially when you follow it up almost directly with another appearance of the SA-X. Now, I don’t mind replaying a section a few times. I think I’ve pretty much learned this boss’ patterns by now. But come ON! This isn’t freakin’ MDK2. Is the tension you’re trying to build really worth the annoyance factor? I appreciate the attempt to use the environment in unexpected ways, but… GOD.

Okay, I’m a little more than halfway through with this thing. I just took a six-hour nap or so, following an important telephone call that I actually made — clearly, directly, with no matter of stammering and no blanking-out. Take THAT, Nynex. Or whatever your name is now.

Also, I got a great image in my just-waking head, of Fay holding the brim of her tricorn as she scampers quickly forward, her poise broken. There’s a lot which can be done with the animations when it comes down to it.

Samus’ new suit and replacement powerups are starting to make the old Samus feel clunky and outdated by comparison. Having to toggle missiles on and off, ice beam instead of ice missiles. Having to choose between one missile type and another. A slower, less precise jumping mechanic. Having to go after separate (and random) refills for each type of weapon, as well as one’s energy — rather than just absorbing bacteria after every enemy killed.

I want my spider ball. I realize what hell this addition must be for the level designers, but dammit. That’s one of the big reasons why (unlike nearly everyone else in the universe) Metroid II strikes me as my favourite game in the series. There’s just so much more to explore in that game than anywhere else, and it’s so mysterious. Plus, it introduced to us the newer and updated version of Samus (as well as her mega-shouldered Varia suit), the way her arm cannon opens and closes in order to shoot missiles, the ability to duck and to shoot downward, a whole bunch of quirky new upgrades (only the most obvious of which have made a return appearance so far), Samus’ ship, and an interesting break from form. (Fmor! Romf!)

Super Metroid is the Super Mario Bros. 3 to Metroid II‘s Wrath of Khan Metroid II did almost everything better than the first game, despite the limitations of the Gameboy hardware. And the inventions that the team used to get around the inherent problems of the platform were hugely important refinements to the building Metroid aesthetic. The only problems are that most of the music generally isn’t as melodious and memorable as Hip Tanaka’s score from the original (though I dig what there is), and that the control is a little floatier than in any of the other Metroid games. Okay, and perhaps the backgrounds lack a lot of variety. But hey, again — this it the original Gameboy. What do you want? If the game comes off feeling like a B-picture as a result, then all the better.

The third game is the ultimate refinement, really, revisiting and polishing the original game’s format while borrowing most of the interesting suggestions from the sequel. A few moments are a bit too traditionally SNES-like for me (you know, the blatant hardware abuse more for the sake of making things look cool for the players who can’t see through the gimmicks than because it adds anything to the game experience), but all in all it’s unquestionably one of the best-designed and best-executed games ever made. The thing is, I tend to retreat from that kind of polish. There’s just not a lot to say. Yes, it’s a great game. Moving on.

Where does Fusion fit in? Where, indeed. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.

Sam I Am

  • Reading time:4 mins read

So I was staring at my order at ebgames (I refuse to provide a link). I spent most of the weekend and yesterday wondering why it hadn’t shipped yet. I was on the verge of becoming extremely agitated when I woke this morning, noting that they apparently had still yet to ship the darned thing. But then she appeared, completely unannounced. I have Samus, and I’m not letting go.

It didn’t take long to whiz through the short bit that I’d already played through wholly illegitimate means a week or two ago. Since then I’ve been slowly poking around, doing my best to do my thing.

Metroid is exactly the kind of game made for a person like me — someone who isn’t content not to poke every single inch of the scenery fifteen times, just in case he might’ve missed something interesting. I flat-out refuse to try to play through the games quickly, even the second or third time through — it’s a matter of principle, bikini or no bikini.

I just today realized how useful the “sleep” mode is that the GBA has. Must make note to institute this in my own game.

The music in this game — so far it’s a mix of Metroid, Strider, and Little Nemo: The Dream Master. And it sounds like the new Samus intro theme (a bit more understated than the traditional one) skips a little. I can’t tell if this is a bug or if it’s meant to sound that way. I assumed it was a mistake in the emulation earlier, but no; the game really is like that. I can’t figure out why. It sounds strange.

There’s a headphones option… Hmm.

And I was wrong. Sammie doesn’t breathe — she PULSATES.

Hmm…

The pace of the game seems intentionally briskened up; Samus runs, jumps, stops, flips, does everything about twice as quickly and precisely as she used to. It was hard to tell on the emulator, but the game is a hell of a lot more action-oriented than the past Metroid games have been. And usually the only areas really left open for a lot of exploration are the huge (and frequent) sections where Samus is trapped — often without anything helpful like a recharge room nearby — and must run around in circles for ten or twenty minutes, looking for the one obscure block that the player has missed, which is her ticket to freedom.

Overall, I’m not so sure I like the way the levels are designed in this game, compared to any of the previous three Metroids. The level design is certainly better than in almost any other game out there, but it’s a bit too gimmicky and forced for me. Intelligent Systems could’ve worked the exploration into the game a lot more seamlessly — and less annoyingly — than this.

Beyond Samus’ newfound speed and athleticism (I guess that’s what you get when you become a Metroid), the control is a bit weird in a couple of respects — especially coming off of the past games. For one, Samus doesn’t bounce as much from her own bomb blasts anymore. It’s harder to climb through the air with explosions, as one can in every other version of Metroid. Two, often changing direction in mid-air will cause her to cut her jump short. This is probably me hitting “up” or “down” unintentionally, but the game can get kind of hectic at times (considering the new focus on speed, as well as HOW MUCH damage Samus takes in comparison to how much she gets back) and it’s annoying to suddenly find that Samus doesn’t want to finish the jump she was making when she’s hovering right over, say, an electrified pool or a huge boss monster.

Anyway. I’ve things to read and reply to. Things to scan. Things to write. Things to eat.

I found out how to hook up a Casio keyboard to the patch bay, today. Hooray.

Edit:

Aderack: You can see Samus’ butt cheeks now.
Smiley: Eee!
Smiley: Like in Super Metroid, when you use the special healing technique?
Aderack: Well, they’re covered. But… very tightly, for some reason.
Aderack: WITH her armour on. Her… pulsating Metroid armour.
Smiley: Well. Butt cheeks on a female are immune.
Smiley: To all attacks and weather.
Aderack: It’s kind of weird. The rest of her new suit (much more organic than her old one) is sort of skeletal-looking. Especially from the back. But there, right on the butt, the more armory part opens up to show the spandexy part. Specially.
Smiley: Buttastic!

UDLR, Chu Chu Chu

  • Reading time:2 mins read

Oy. Anyway, I finally — after far too long — got a copy of ChuChu Rocket! Advance. I played around with it a bit back around the system’s launch last year, so I knew what to expect. And yeah, it’s ChuChu Rocket!. It’s… a little creepy, and generally gives me an oddly wistful sensation, to notice how precisely the game captures its original Dreamcast flavour. I mean, this game still feels like a Dreamcast game. It’s got the same atmosphrere to it that I’ve always associated with the system. Heck, for some reason Sonicteam even tried to emulate the original game’s web page content in the GBA version. If the GBA had only four face buttons rather than the mere two, there’d be almost nothing wrong with this version.

Odd that the GBA suffers from the same problem for which the Dreamcast was always criticized: too few buttons.

As much as I’m glad to finally have a copy around (especially for under ten dollars, as it was), I feel almost a little uncomfortable with the game. It’s hard to place the sensation exactly, and it’s certainly not the game’s fault. Maybe a bit of it is a lingering sadness over the Dreamcast situation which normally manages to stay more or less repressed. But there are some other factors in there as well. Something to do with Sega content on a non-Sega machine? Associations which I’m not willing to bring completely into consciousness? I don’t know.

Arr.

  • Reading time:3 mins read

It occurred to me just now that I approach games like a designer. Every game is a learning experience for me, and is judged in terms of the quality of its construction and its original content. It’s as if I’m giving the final okay on every game I encounter. Yes, this design came together well. Yes, I’m proud of this one. No, go away, Acclaim. I almost never even think to examine a game from the outside. I generally need to get inside the heads of the design team in order to appreciate the work. I absorb developer interviews. Every detail about the design process which can be revealed. I revel in picking apart. For ultimately, I guess that I want to understand the essence of the medium.

… I just find this revelation to have its subtle twist of irony, at the moment. Maybe it is about time. Heck, it was about time for something. And this is something. Further, it’s something I’ve wanted to do for most of my life. From my first experiences with videogames, my thought has been “I can do that” — and further, that I probably could do it better. I didn’t want to just play these things; I wanted to be a part of the process.

I’ve never been an outsider, in terms of videogames. It’s one of the few realms in which I can say this with no hint of equivocation. They’re one of the few things I get, inside and out — probably more so than a large segment of the people actually producing the things today. So why haven’t I been doing anything about that? And I don’t just mean blabbering my views, which I do endlessly anyway (albeit never in any official form). Hell, this is an art like any other. It’s obvious I’ve been itching to flex my muse, and it’s obvious that I’m never going to be satisfied until I at least try my hand at something bigger than Crullo: Adventures of a Donut.

… Although, hey…

I think I’m needed. And I think I’ve got something to say. And I know I’m good enough to do something about that, if I just keep true to myself.

I was saying that next year was going to rock, and I’ve been saying it for a while. And now I know the reason. I might be taking a bit of a stand here, but I do believe I’ve found my calling. It’s hard not to feel enthusiastic about that.

This is going to work. It’s as simple as that. I’ve never been so sure about anything.

A short note…

  • Reading time:1 mins read

Oh, heck. KoF2002 is released today.