|
There are some nouns in life with grossly unbalanced ratios between amount of attention received and amount of attention deserved. Paris Hilton. Westboro Baptist Church. This moronic zombie fad that's causing a major hole in evolutionists' arguments. Many video games, or aspects of games, have this same issue. Here are the most notable such moments in gaming. Don't be a smartass with the whole ratio thing. Nobody ever said that crazy broad from that crazy church doesn't get the attention she deserves.
Metal Gear Solid 3's finale ---
Phantasy Star's visuals
--- Legend of Zelda/Crackdown's sandbox tendencies
---
1942's and Contra's
difficulty | ||||
|
Metal Gear Solid 3's ending "For realz, how can one possibly be moved by a video game? Unless your life is that empty and useless, why would a bunch of pixels ever emotionally move you? Pathetic. Just pathetic." - Hammy game writer, memorable quote attempt number 9816 "To not be moved by the ending of Metal Gear Solid 3 is to not be human. Especially emotional is the fact you can switch to first-person view and see a tear-blurred worldview. If you don't feel a strong, positive emotional connection and you don't end up completely rooting for every character in Metal Gear Solid 3, you deserve to die. Be dead. Period. End of story. That's it." - Hammy game writer, memorable quote attempt number 55920 The first order of business is the most overwrought, hammy, pretentious scene in the most overwrought, hammy pretentious game to the date of its release. People say this sequence is powerful and emotional. I call those people pussies or severely imbalanced since the only powerful emotions one should experience upon playing this game are strong desires to bury sharp implements in the eyes of its cast. Anything less suggests emotional fragility or poor psychological adjustment. In the case of basically all the other topics that appear here, there is some justification for the undeserving amount of attention lavished on the games. In this case, there is absolutely no reason people should give a fat slap about this scene. Unless, of course, reasons of emotional fragility or poor mental health are involved.
Want in the cool guy gamer club? While every discussion about early eight bit RPGs might begin elsewhere, they must end with Phantasy Star, and more specifically, how it's just so much better than Dragon Quest and especially Final Fantasy. Be sure to include the term "blows it/them out of the water" for added effect. While it is true that Phantasy Star, at times, definitely churns out animations and color palettes that aren't found on any NES game. The overworld battle background graphics are nice, much of the game is doused with bright, vibrant color, which fits the setting well, and when relatively high levels of detail are needed, the game delivers. However, most of the graphics are closer to average than fantastic. Sometimes, such as on the overworld map or in most town, the said brightness is too dominant and colors clash there as well. These areas, especially when juxtaposed beside their quite a bit more impressive scenes look even less outstanding. But what really moves Phantasy Star's graphics down a notch are the many dungeons. Granted, they give an at first glance impressive fake 3D effect, but they become incredibly bland-looking before very long. As in before Camineet is finished. This is because you're only looking at a series of bricks. A series of one-color, featureless, identical bricks. Things change in future dungeons. No, the bricks don't suddenly gain any additional properties that may aid in your travels. Nor do they do anything else to make them any less monotonous. They do, though, change color from one dungeon to another. Let's see an NES try that! And considering how long and meandery many of these dungeons can get, this can be more time than is reasonable to be looking innumerable copies of the same damn thing. But hey, remember, best graphics of an eight bit RPG and therefore best eight bit RPG.
Legend of Zelda's and Crackdown's sandbox like approach The impact Legend of Zelda had on the game world in 1987 is hard to overestimate. Games were not supposed to be this... big, this open. It was such a shake to the world, it's easy to lose track of the level of flaw in the implementation. The biggest problem is the ratio of available paths to the number of paths that actually make progress. If there are a thousand paths, most of which eventually leading to other paths, most of which eventually leading to dead ends. So you see how the fun could fade to frustration before terribly long, no? Apparently not since this might be the first I've seen of this observation on the internet. "But there is literally nowhere in Crackdown you can't go! No where! Nope. Zilcherooney!" - Hammy game writer, attempt at memorable quote number 100312 Is that a fact? Try entering any of the numerous buildings; I believe you're allowed to enter two. Honestly, if this sort of thing still impresses you, you've either missed some of the biggest games over the past decade before Crackdown was released, or you really like the idea making a series of careful leaps on building ledges only to find that agility orb is just out of reach, and you'll need another 30 or so before you can reach it.
To say things were tougher 4+ console generations ago is an understatement and a near-universal fact. It's much like saying things were tougher for people four human generations ago than today. Half of all NES games would probably kick your ass in the first level, and there were no tutorials, save points, health stations or often walkthroughs to help us. Yet, these two stand out as especially challenging. 1942 is known as incredibly difficult, but anybody with more than two consecutive hours and electricity can beat it. If there was ever a casual scrolling shooter, a phrase you won't read much, this is it. It lacks the precarious level designs popular among 80s shooters, the faster paces often found in in the 90s and the bullet hell environments of the aughts. It also had unlimited continues. Not only is 1942's challenge decidedly surpassed by its sequel, it's arguably surpassed by every other scrolling shooter found on the NES. Assuming one completely ignores the ubiquitous code, Contra is practically the icon of mercilessly tough games. But really now? Ever play Super C? Ever play Contra Force? I wouldn't particularly recommend the latter, but Contra's level of challenge, like 1942, is eclipsed by its progeny. It should be noted, though, that Contra as a poster boy for toughness in the NES days is somewhat acceptable with its mixture of popularity, quality and codeless challenge.
Devil May Cry 2/3 Challenge Okay. So Devil May Cry 2 is easier than fucking a horny, middle-aged virgin given less than two weeks to live. Its challenge only became respectable when it was cranked up to "Dante Must Die" levels, only after beating it on Hard. In effect, most the hostility this game gets for this purpose is earned, and this game's inclusion is here largely in terms of its younger, more popular sibling. Though, truth be told, if you feel that strongly against DMC2's low challenge and the fact concessions are needed made to make it tougher, you probably consider only a game's capacity to lower players' self-esteem when decided its usefulness as entertainment (or art?), well, good luck with your meds. Devil May Cry 3 is often lauded for its challenge, but this praise is misdirected. DMC3 is as attritious and cheap as DMC2 is pointlessly easy. All they did was put DMC2's challenge through a reversal-filter: the the vices regarding the game's challenge are polar opposite, but they're equally extreme, and it thus deserves the same challenge score.
It's easy to lose track of Mystic Quest's place in time. In the early 90s, confused Japanese developers heard it through the grapevine: that other role-playing game they just released in the US, an already dumbed-down version of that release, was just too hawwwrd. I imagine the brainstorming session among Square execs looked like this: "Maybe people in that hemisphere didn't take too kindly to that RPG claptrap. Nah. We gotta like Cecil and the gang. 50 million Japanese can't be wrong. We just gotta make these things easier, reckon. Americans like their shit simple. Once we get those Yanks hooked, they'll be ours and they'll be begging for the some that tentacle smut." I have a feeling they do think in very simple sentences and use words like reckon and shit. Enter Mystic Quest, the RPG tutorial, with the simple RPG mechanics of Dragon Warrior minus the frightening possbility of encountering a Magician at level one. They dial down many traditional RPG staples like long, lugburious storylines in favor of game actions unthinkable to the otaku set like cutting trees, bombing obstacles and climbing mountains with ropes. As an engaging, challenging RPG, Mystic Quest fails, but if this game was made to be an RPG tutorial, something not even the most respected voices of game fandom seem to entertain, I fail to see how it does not meet this goal in any way. Maybe Square's grapevine was wrong about Americans' alleged rejection of FF2US.
Ico's beauty In 2001, we weren't that hard to please. Put some poor, discriminated kid on a remote island, add plenty of ostensible panning landscape shots, throw in a few wide-lens shots lens flares for good measure, and you've got a bonafide piece of art. It was 2001. It was a simpler time, one where we were free to dream. Okay, that's it. I'm done being pretentiously stupid. I gotta admit I didn't play this game until some eight years after it changed the world of art forever. I gotta say Father Time must be jealous of Ico's hot artistic ass because what was an effectively brief romp highlighted by memorable settings, basic puzzles and minimalist setup turned into something with more in common with myst than many acolytes of the game would like to admit. And at least I have qualms about considering this game's visuals supremely pleasing to the eye at any point given how much time is spent in those dark, dank, depressing, ruined castles.
"You'll never call the female sex the weaker sex again! There's nothing is real life that can ever top this permanent moment of awesome. Nothing. Never." - Hammy game writer, attempt at a memorable quoteable quote number 272164 Okay, so Samus is a rugged space marine. Fine. But if she was so tough, then why'd she need more protective gear than the combined gear of pretty much every video game protagonist up to that point? Why did she need the then unheard of amount of armor to remove any trace of femininity, and arguably humanity in her appearance? I at least thought that Samus was a robot since the name struck me as unusual. Mario kicked ass in overalls. Snake wore camo. The Adventure square donned... who knows what the hell, but I reckon s/he/it didn't need more protection than Master Chief. Samus has more armor than a small tank. To her credit, she was able to take more hits.
Okay, Lara Croft is essentially the very first sexy female lead in a game. Some might have preferred to nominate Chun-Li, but I suppose one ought to be the main character of their game, and Lara's demeanor is more that of a sexy woman that Chun-Li.
Once again, this might be more my opinion than anything else, but I've found, for the longest time, Lara to be downright hideous. This starts and pretty much ends with her terrible bodily proportions: she looks more like a mannequin with each body part from coming from a different mannequin. And this might be the limitations of the technology of old, but you would be forgiven for believing she was some kind of evolutionary link. Not to mention her anorexic-silicon enhanced frame doesn't have room for any muscle at all, making her an even less believable heroine. It wasn't until Tomb Raider Legend, or at the earliest Angel of Darkness when I could at least see her as somewhat believable in her role as an action star, much less a sexy one. Of course, by this time, a broad bevy of sexy gals had already imprinted their stiletto heel marking on the concrete sidewalk of the game world, and it went largely unnoticed.
|