So Your Favorite Game is Problematic: A Beginner’s Guide

Video games were on the start of a serious streak in Spring 2013. Games like Grand Theft Auto V, Tomb Raider, The Last of Us and BioShock Infinite were scheduled to release later that year, and I had my eyes focused on God of War: Ascension — a game I expected to be the first domino in a back-to-back line of excellent games.

And then I watched Adam Sessler’s review of Ascension.



Since his beginning days on Tech TV and G4, I’ve considered Sessler to be one of the best games critics in the business. And yet here he was, criticizing the latest God of War game (and the franchise as a whole) for its poor portrayal of women and for its online trophy “Bros before Hos.”

My initial reaction? “It’s just a game, blow it off.” At the time, I felt frustrated with an opinion that went against my expectation for a positive review. If the gameplay for Ascension felt right and the game looked great, why focus on something like the game’s portrayal of women?

Up until this point, any critical thought about video games was reserved for the “Games Are Art” argument. I thought I understood why games likes Shadow of the Colossus or Half-Life 2 or Flower were reserved for these conversations, that these titles stood out for their gameplay or graphics or writing — that these games alone stood as art. And here was Sessler, discussing female representation in a series that follows a bald-headed, screaming Spartan who regularly tears foes in half with his bare hands. I was being challenged to consider the effect God of War’s portrayal of women had on women gamers, and after a few days of thought, Sessler’s critique clicked. I made the decision not to buy Ascension.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, 2013 became a year of deep analysis of the games and media I consumed. Sessler’s review was just the starting point — later conversations with my then-girlfriend (now-wife) about representation in media eventually became eye-opening. If I wanted to consider games art (which games are), then I needed to start playing games with a critical eye that reached beyond appreciating a game’s mechanics or graphics.

And still, I came across a question that I continue to ask myself: if a game has problematic elements, is it still worth playing? Finding an answer to the question is often a balancing act. In the same year I turned away from God of War, I made the decision to pick up GTA V. Although both games carried the same valid arguments about their portrayal of women, I concluded that GTA V’s story and open world sandbox was still worth playing.

I’ve found myself walking the same ethical tightrope in recent weeks, wrestling with my thoughts on Horizon Zero Dawn. On one hand, the game is gorgeous and presents a robot-dino-hunting game loop that has lured me to continue playing until the late of hours of the night. On the other hand, the game’s characters and storytelling elements are uncomfortably heavy with Native American tropes and general cultural appropriation. I’ve cringed each time a character mentions “tribes” or “braves.” The game’s matrilineal society comes across less as well-imagined and more as a hodge-podged written structure that cherry-picks off of the customs of existing Native American pueblos and communities. What’s worse is that these issues have seemingly gone unnoticed by the games press.

Thankfully, Native American writer Dia Lacina began the conversation with her Medium article, “What We Talk About, When We Don’t Talk About Natives.” Lacina criticizes both Horizon and games journos and critics for not mentioning these issues. When Horizon’s world is written as a place “‘where life has seemingly reverted to the tribal-like ways of the past,’ …The uncritical use of words like ‘primitive’ and ‘savage’ to describe appropriated cultural signifiers on large media platforms serves to reinforce racist and colonialist ideas about indigenous people.”

Reactions to Lacina’s article were mixed. John Gonzales, the game’s narrative director, defended the game’s language and art style while games critic Colin Moriarty dismissed the critique entirely.

Reboot's Quidditch Cup

(First published at The Reboot Gamers.)
In our first Quidditch series of Reboot Remembrall, Gianna and Antonio play a handful of matches of Harry Potter Quidditch Cup, including games between England and Spain, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, and USA and France.

Nostalgia in video games

(First published at The Reboot Gamers.)

For my 23rd birthday I got a new PlayStation 2. One of the first things did was open up my decade old copy of Tony Hawk Pro Skater 4 and for a moment, I was in middle school again - with spikey hair, a SanDisk MP3 player, and a muscle memory of every level in Tony Hawk. It was great.

This moment of interactive nostalgia is unique to video games and is an experience gamers and game developers have been pushing for - for the last few years.

Now, why do we enjoy playing these older games? What motivates us to pick up the latest remastered edition of games we already played?

According to writer Jamie Madigon of Psychology of Games, it’s important to understand that the very feeling of nostalgia is one mixed with fondness of the past as well as a slight sense of sorrow. However, with video games being an interactive medium, older games that spark feelings of nostalgia tends to bring gamers a feeling of positive connectedness to the game and a sense of community to others who played the same game.

I might not have played Halo 2 with Nick or Justin from Reboot Gamers when Halo 2 first came out, but we can all agree how great landing a sticky grenade felt in the opening first level. Personally, Pro Skater 4 reminded me of playing the game with my friends in eighth grade, trying to outdo one another as we connected the highest combo possible.

With the medium of video games being well over 40 years old, publishers understand that gamers want that feeling of nostalgia.

Maria B. Garda’s paper “Nostalgia in retro game design” explains that game developers push nostalgia through two types of video game design - restorative and reflective. Restorative game design is an effort to fully recreate a game of the past. Sony’s HD remakes of classic titles in the past few years, including Jak and Daxter and Ratchet and Clank, are prime examples of rereleasing an older game with updated visuals. In the Tony Hawk Underground series, players learned the basics of the game in a remastered version of Tony Hawk’s first level from the series first ever game.

Reflective game design restores not a particular game, but recognizes, learns from and appreciates tropes of particular games. From a visual perspective, Fez is a love letter to 8-bit and 16-bit games, while the gameplay learns from and adapts on the shoulders of classic 2D platformers and Metoidvania games. Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World is every bit an homage to Final Fight as it is of Nintendo game culture in general. Thomas Was Alone channels the brightly colored squares of Atari 2600 games while using a meta narrative often found in contemporary games to drive players forward.

Some would say that Nintendo’s career in the last 15 years has been made by walking the line between reflective and restorative game design. Mario is a classic game character and Nintendo knows that. A gamer playing a Bowser level on Super Mario 64 is met with the same sense of challenge that a gamer playing a Bowser level on Super Mario Galaxy. While the story might not change from game to game, players bank on the fact that Nintendo knows how to make a great platformer and knows how to provide familiar gameplay while innovating an element or two. The best Mario games should be both feel familiar and refreshing from a gameplay and visual standpoint.

So there’s a reason why the most anticipated game this year for new consoles was probably a rerelease of a game made ten years and two consoles ago. Embrace that feeling of nostalgia, whether it be finishing the fight - again - or trying to land an awesome trick on a familiar half pipe.

The cavalry is here: Why we need Overwatch

selfishly getting off Twitter and playing Dragon Age for the first time in weeks, because i'd rather inhabit any world but our own right now

— Nick Robinson (@Babylonian) November 25, 2014

(First published at The Reboot Gamers.)
While I don't own Dragon Age, I can relate to the feeling.

Regardless of your opinion of Monday's ruling in Ferguson, one thing is certain: it was a stressful day for most Americans. Monday was a day of Twitter page refreshes and Google updates and by the end of the night, I looked for something to help calm myself down. A few clicks on YouTube later, I found myself struck by a video I had seen a number of times since its initial release two weeks ago.

The announcement trailer of Blizzard's Overwatch is charming and is a delight to watch now as it was the first time I watched it. There's a particular Disney-esqe shine to everything in this short feature - the overly enthusiastic young boy and his angsty older brother, the hulking Winston's cartoonishly small glasses, Tracer's warm pep as she dashes around - even the quick removed shot of the bored security guard, oblivious to the nearby chaos, provided a chuckle most animated movies aim to achieve. It's all great fun to watch, but it's Tracer's last line that changed my perspective on the game last night.

"The world can always use more heroes."

Reality can be rough and finding a good escape lately has been no easy task. The past decade in film, television and video games have been marked by moody protagonists and anti-heroes. I've gone to midnight releases and cheered for a sad Batman. I've binge-watched seasons and seasons of a show centered around a desperate meth dealer dying of cancer. One of my favorite games in the last generation of consoles is an apt metaphor for the cycle of life and death. A few of this year's most anticipated games featured a brooding super hero and a grizzly futuristic war, with a dead-eyed Kevin Spacey and a "press x to mourn" scene that is touching as it is subtle. 

And yet, in a trailer for a new triple-A shooter, looking to stand out amongst a fairly crowded genre, Overwatch concludes its introduction to players with a welcoming hand that embraces optimism. There's no Led Zeppelin song screaming in the background, there's no Michael Bay-level action or attempt at comedy - just an earnest word or two that the world can always use more heroes.

Trailers for games are always about informing players of the mood and tone of the game - Overwatch's lack of pretense and embrace of optimism and heroics depicts a world that everyone, not just gamers, can use right now.

Assassin's Creed Rogue Review: A dull blade

(First published at The Reboot Gamers.)

Assassin’s Creed Rogue wants to do two very different things - flip the series perspective on its head by playing as Templars, while enticing players with the same combat and explorative gameplay elements in Assassin’s Creed 4. Rogue tries to do both but never fully accomplishes either.

Rogue tells the fallout story of Shay Patrick Cormac, an Irish assassin who eventually leaves the brotherhood to join the Templar. For newcomers to the Assassin’s Creed series, the Templar have traditionally been the bad guys. This time around, both sides are marginally terrible. Developer Ubisoft Sofia attempts to write a nuanced story about perspective and the idea of who historically is considered right and wrong. It’s an interesting idea that falls flat due to poor voice acting and cliche character moments. Shay’s persona as an anti-hero is fairly paint-by-the-numbers, while his supporting cast never quite lose their outwardly villainous facade. I never felt like my actions were fully justified or that the Templar was anything other than a shadowy organization.

Rogue returns to the ship-sailing gameplay of Assassin’s Creed 4. Instead of exploring tropical waters, Shay sails through blizzards and avoids iceburgs along the east coasts of America and Canada. The icy waters and terrain look great on last gen consoles. There’s a great crunch when crushing through ice, and navigating storms is great fun. When the weather calms however, is a different story. From a narrative perspective, it makes sense that the cold waters could harm Shay. From a gameplay perspective, however, this mechanic came across as uninviting. The lust for adventure that I had in the tropics of 4 just isn’t there with Rogue. These waters are harsh and unfriendly, and ultimately I felt deterred from exploring and trying many of the available side missions.

The combat on land is similar to past Assassin’s Creed games. Shay can climb and free run with ease and the hand to hand combat is just as simple to execute as it was in previous games. The block and counter controls are responsive and the stealth kill animations are on point. Rogue introduces a grenade launcher, which can feel clunky and overpowered at times. The game also implements gangs throughout major stretches land. Taking over a gang provides a challenge and is one of the few opportunities in the game where players need to strategize.

Rogue’s main campaign  missions are fairly easy and can be at times fairly boring. While there aren’t any dreaded “follow this character without being detected” missions, most can be finished by stealing x, or killing a certain number of y. I rarely put any thought into a mission, nor did I go out of my way to upgrade my character beyond the necessary missions where I had to upgrade a weapon or my ship. The game’s greater moments are few and far between and if it wasn’t for the initial intrigue of the story, I wouldn’t have had much incentive to push through the campaign.

FINAL WORD

And for all its faults, Rogue isn’t particularly a bad game - it’s just dull. It will always feel cool to sail the sea in a pirate ship, it will always be cool to leap from a tall building and kill a nearby enemy. Sadly, this formula has been executed better before and Rogue provides no new reasons to pick up a new entry with the same old formula.

FINAL SCORE: 6.0/10

Destiny review: One small step

(First published at The Reboot Gamers.)

Thirty minutes into our battle with a giant robot spider tank, I shared a glance with my random-encounter-turned-partner combatant. He/she was a Titan, I was a Warlock. We had both died and respawned five times during our attempt to bring down the beast. We were both the main characters of our story, each a powerful space traveler, brandishing fierce weapons to fight aliens in a post apocalyptic Russian desert. And yet somehow, between the great vistas of the moon and the jungles of Venus, the lore of the mysterious Awoken and Exo species, our shared glance was one of a mutual feeling.

Wow, this game got boring quick.

Destiny is Bungie’s first step away from their successful Halo series,and the studio’s ten year mark on science fiction in video games is noticeable throughout this social first person shooter. Players begin “Destiny” by choosing to play as one of three classes: Titans are a one-man tank, Hunters are handy with a knife and a pistol, and Warlocks possess magical abilities. The decision might seem like a difficult one at first class, but beyond having different special moves, each character plays relatively the same. After customizing their character’s species (humans, the alien Awoken, and the robotic Exo) and gender, players step into the shoes of a chosen protagonist whose destiny is to ward off galactic evil doers. It’s all standard sci-fi fare.

Players garner and can switch out a number of different armor pieces and weapons as they progress, each adding up to a stronger defense as a whole or providing special incentives (i.e. gloves that improve hand cannon reload speed, a helmet that increases one’s focus, etc). The weapons pack a pleasant punch -- scout rifles pick off foes in a pinch, head shots with a sniper rifle feels satisfying, and successfully charged pulse rifle shots feel earned. Each class’s melee attack is great, especially the Warlock’s life-draining push, ringing with a thunderous crack.

Unfortunately, great gameplay mechanics can only take Destiny so far. Missions get repetitive fast -- fetch this item, go open this door, defeat x number of enemies before you can move on. Enemies vary little, each planet inhabited by similar characters that either bob and weave while they attack, rush and attempt to overwhelm the player, or carry a large shield to protect from gunfire. Beyond an increase in how many bullets enemies in later stages can absorb, enemy tactics never change. Firefights with towering bosses and relentless armies feel less like a great battle and more like an exercise in patience. It’s fun to shoot enemies, sure, but there’s little to no strategy here -- there’s no moments of great triumph, just sighs of relief that a mission is finally over.

Destiny’s poor mission design walks hand-in-hand with a narrative that falls flat shortly after the game’s well designed opening level. Plot progression is left to a few lines at the beginning and end of a mission from your robotic companion Ghost, voiced by a very dull Peter Dinklage. For the majority of the game, your character’s Ghost is meant to provide incentive and insight to Destiny’s lore, as a well as a personal connection to the world. Sadly, Dinklage’s performance matches the underwhelming writing, sounding at times bored with the game’s world.

And what a world Destiny is. This is a beautiful game, regardless of which console it’s played on, and depicts a universe grounded in years of myth and legend the main campaign only hints at. The ravaged lands of Russia tell of a great fall of man as players walk through shattered buildings. The safehaven of the Tower, a marketplace where players can purchase, sale and store goods, hints at a shiny and exotic culture of the future. The red mesas of Mars demand to be explored. The first moments players have on the moon is a striking one, as a shining Earth looms from above. It’s a shame that these locales, and the gorgeous backing soundtrack, are only different backdrops for repetitive battles and never become an interactive character that adds to the narrative.

Destiny’s big push, beyond looking and sounding pretty, is that this game is meant to be played with others. As players push forward on their next mission on Mars or the moon, they will occasionally run into other players, stranger to those on your friends list. The opportunity for playing cooperatively is there but is rarely taken -- there are too few means to communicate to these players and garner a shared experience. When these partnerships do happen, there’s fun to be had. Destiny’s competitive multiplayer harkens to Bungie’s bread and butter with the Halo franchise. Deathmatch and team deathmatch modes can be chaotic and fun, and teamwork can be critical if the opposing team provides an uneven match. In its early days of matchmaking, this is a common occurrence, as I fought many battles against players who have leveled up to and beyond the game’s level cap.

From a technical standpoint, Destiny is a polished experience. The game looks great, it’s backing score is moving, the gameplay mechanics are crisp and feel good, and the online integration is seamless. The game runs smoothly on the PlayStation 3, and the controls are competent with the DualShock 3, a controller that often is ill-suited for shooters. As an experience, however, Destiny reveals its hand too soon. Bungie is placing its bet on players getting hooked leveling up and searching for loot long after Destiny’s narrative end, returning to the game’s weekly new strike missions. Unless these missions provide something new to the table, however, there’s no good reason to return to a battle fought similarly in the game’s first few hours as they are in the game’s 20th or 30th hour.

Review Score: 6.5/10