Gieson Cacho

A Novel Approach to Games

Wed, 23 Apr 2008 00:22:36 -0700

Let’s face it, writing and video games haven’t gone hand in hand. A lot of the stuff we play is space opera, high fantasy or Tom Clancy technothriller. There really isn’t a lot out there in terms of variety. Most of the games follow this simple formula: World in trouble. Save the world. Yep, that’s about it. Nothing else to do here.

Compare that to the rich world of the novel. Yes, I know, the old book has a couple hundred years head start on video games, but that doesn’t mean the younger medium can’t learn a thing or two. Here are some things from novels that could make video games better.

1. Unreliable narrator: One of the thing’s that makes Lolita so compelling is its narrator Humbert Humbert. He’s not exactly the most trustworthy person so the reader has to take everything he says with a grain of salt. Is everything he says about Dolores Haze accurate? Perhaps. Then again, you realize he is a child molester. If video games can somehow have an unreliable narrator, it’d be interesting to see how that would work in shooter, where a person plays a level based on an unreliable perspective and then they play it through a more objective one.

1. Symbols: I’m not talking about glyphs or a scrawled image on a wall. When it comes to symbols, games don’t use this idea nearly enough. They shouldn’t be used for decor but it should have a meaning in relation to the character. Maybe a female lead is a pregnant but she is trying to keep it a secret. Perhaps, she could hold a flower each time the protagonist meet hers. Melville used this is a novel that you may have heard of -- it’s called Moby Dick.

1. Dramatic Irony: Okami had a really great plot and it employed this technique with Amaterasu. The players know that the wolf is actually a dog with divine powers but the people in the game do not. This happens a lot with Susano, who believes himself to be a great warrior, unaware that it’s Amaterasu doing the heavy lifting.

1. Forget chronology: For a medium that allows a lot of freedom, it’s sad that video games still feel like they have to tell plots in a chronological order. There seems to always be a beginning, middle and end when they’re are much more interesting ways to tell a story. Cortazar’s Hopscotch demonstrated this. Wouldn’t it be more interesting to have a fragmented storyline and have players piece it together? It could be a step toward the holy grail of video games, which is the branching narrative.

5. Multiple perspectives: The first time I sort of saw this in video games is in Resident Evil 2. You had to play as both characters to get full story of the game. Along the way, some of the decisions you made in the first play through affects what happens in the second. This gameplay using multiple perspectives with two characters had some potential, but unfortunately, Capcom didn’t explore it further. In The Sound and The Fury, Faulkner looks at a specific event from multiple perspectives, trying to get at the truth of it. It’d be interesting to see someone give that a try in video games.

How Pokemon is like cockfighting

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 02:16:30 -0700

Something has always bothered me about Pokemon and I could never place my finger on it until now. For the past decade, these ubiquitous pocket monsters with their cute round faces and one-word language have had their own cartoon, plush dolls, trading cards, films, candy, backpacks and soundtracks.

If they could somehow emblazon Pokemon on a bright-yellow coffin and sell it to kids, they probably would buy it, especially if it had Pikachu on it. But the problem I have about the franchise isn’t its rampant commercialization. Actually, I have no problem with that. I lived through He-Man.

What really bugs me about Pokemon is that it reminds me of my grandfather, a man who is almost 90, stubborn and smoking as if he can single-handedly cause global warming. You know how some grandfathers adore and spoil their grandchildren? Well, this is not him. He’s not a particularly kind man but he does have his passions.

While other grandfathers may obsess about bass fishing or stamp collecting, my grandpa is a man beholden to roosters and cockfighting. This is a sport where grown men tie blades to the heels of chickens and watch them eviscerate each other for money.

It’s a bloody spectacle as vicious as it is sudden. These roosters splay out their feathers at the beginning of the match, circle each other for a second and then leap in the air feet first trying to slash their opponent.

Often, these matches end suddenly and the winning rooster is hardly scratched. Other times, these competitions drag on mercilessly with neither cock able to stand. They just flop around like a fish out of water, and when the referee picks them up, the one with the strength to peck at the other is declared the winner.

I was 10 when my grandfather took me to my first match. He said this was the Filipino pastime, the country’s national sport. He brought one of his many roosters, held it in his arms like a child, smoothed its feathers as he drove five miles out to the nearest cockpit, a stadiumlike structure that looked like it would tumble over at any minute.

He talked to a couple of friends and set up a match. My grandfather and I watched in the stands. He put up some of his own money on his rooster, cheering for it to win. The cock tried its best but died when its opponent’s blade sliced through its breast.

My grandfather cursed. He went to his rival and talked to him. When a fighting cock loses, it’s the winner who takes home the body and I thought that my grandfather wanted to give the animal a decent burial. I was in the car when I saw him dangle his cock by its feet.

“So where are you going to bury it?” I asked.

He patted his belly. “In here,” he said, and an hour later, we had a chicken dinner.

So what does cockfighting have to do with Pokemon? Everything. In a way, Pokemon is a sanitized version of cockfighting. You do the same things. You get a creature. You take care of it. You then make them duel with others of its kind.

The big difference is that Pokemon Disney-ifies the whole process. There’s no death. The monsters faint. The action is never as graphic, but it’s left to the player’s imagination. A Pokemon slash is just a digitized flourish on another character, not a blood-splattering move that leaves one rooster flailing wildly about.

And with this in mind, maybe Pokemon is a good thing. In Britain, there’s complaints football (aka soccer) is losing a generation of players to the PlayStation generation. Well, maybe the same thing can work in reverse. Perhaps, instead of fighting roosters, in places like the Philippines and Mexico, a whole generation of cockfighting enthusiasts are being seduced by something far less bloody.

If video games can be blamed for social ills, couldn’t it be a solution for some as well?

Observations on Army of Two

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 12:25:02 -0700

Army of Two reminds me of how video games are still stuck in the dark ages. It’s not hard to see why when you see that the industry sees its audience as a bunch of adolescents who haven’t matured past the 12th grade.

In Army of Two, EA Montreal kind of plays to that. It reminded me of one of those really bad action movies that my governor was in. Rios and Salem are muscle-bound freaks who fearlessly run into bullets and survive. Problems are solved by huge explosions and they can do super human things like take gun fire and survive by getting a tampon stuck in their bullet wound. (They took that out of the game BTW).

But it’s kind of funny that the one thing that these action heroes can’t do is use a god damn door. I swear Salem and Rios must have gone through the Mississippi school system because they are unaware that door knobs exists. Usually, when presented with a door, most of us would turn the nice shiny handle on the side opposite the hinges.

Unfortunately, Salem and Rios are too cool for that. They prefer to kick the door open. Subtlety isn’ their forte. If real life were like Army of Two, we’d all be living in a war zone. The Desert Eagle would replace the door bell. We’d have hammer and nails next to the jamb and we’d all be wearing Kevlar vests just in case of misfire.

The Nerd Anthem

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 12:28:46 -0800

There a good games and there are great games, and one of the dividing lines seems to be the most overlooked aspect -- the soundtrack. It seems as if the most memorable titles are blessed with a catchy riff or that one amazing song that elevates what you’re playing into the sublime.

It happened with Mega Man (which has songs that have been elevated to a cultish status thanks to bands like the Advantage). It continued with Katamari Damacy, which had one of the most amazing soundtracks ever.

But all this music is Japanese-generated and other than Martin O’Donnell’s Halo score, there hasn’t been a really great history of Western game music.

But out of nowhere, Portal came along. Aside from the exemplary storytelling and gameplay, it also had some of the best music. Well, actually, I’m talking about one song.

With “Still Alive,” Jonathan Coulton has created the nerd anthem. This silly little piece doesn’t have any star power to it. It’s sung by the computer GLaDOS. It doesn’t have any racy or controversial lyrics. It’s just a quirky afterthought for the ending credits of the game.

But those words and music have taken a life of its own. At last count, there are more than 7,000 renditions of that song on YouTube. Rock Band even has the tune as soon-to-be-released (hopefully) download.

It has become overly used reference on digg. The song has struck such a strong nerve in a gaming community but the big question is Why does it?

I believe “Still Alive” is the first Western video game song. I’m not talking about musical score. I’m talking about word + music = song. This is nerdy piece of entertainment that begs to be taken apart, analyzed and reconfigured in different renditions. It’s specific to the medium. It isn’t just a trendy tie-in like an 80s soundtrack (Grand Theft Auto: Vice City) or Trent Reznor sounds (Quake).

It’s a song that works wonderfully well with the narrative. Like all great pieces of video game music, I couldn’t imagine the Portal without “Still Alive” and vice versa. For once, the video game audience stateside has a piece of music that’s as plugged into them as it is to the game.

In Defense of No More Heroes

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 23:38:21 -0800

I just got done listening to the latest 1up podcast and what I heard made me sick. The discussion was about No More Heroes, the latest game from Grasshopper Manufacture.

In this episode, Newsweek’s N’gai Croal rips into the title despite playing about an hour of the game. Apparently, based on that snippet of gameplay they can damn what was a stellar title. (It’s kind of playing the first level of Portal and saying it sucks because you don’t see anything special.)

They complain about the open-world and the game flow. There were a couple of errors in facts and they sounded like amateurs who haven’t completed the game, which is kind of funny because the whole experience is about 13 hours.

First of all, I didn’t have a problem with the open-world because I didn’t view it as a sandbox. Actually, if you look at it, the city of Santa Destroy is more like the hub world. Aside from the different shops, there isn’t anything open about it. You can’t experiment. You can’t really explore.

The town (I call it that because it’s really small) is a place to go from one place to another. In the same way, I wouldn’t call the castle in Mario 64’s castle an open-world sandbox.

As for the complaints about boss levels, there are actually checkpoints so that you don’t have to restart the level. In addition, the ATM is right next door to the No More Heroes motel, so I guess if you can’t wait five seconds to walk to your room, I guess Santa Destroy would sound big.

As for the bigger concepts of No More Heroes, they missed the boat on what Suda had to say. To understand the game, you have to know a little about the background and what the designer feels about the medium.

"There were movies, and books, and music...and then there was a small, tiny box, and when I played [the game] I felt something really different, and I don't want to forget that feeling."
-- from a Gamespot interview

“I assure you that videogames are an¿extension of an art form. In my opinion, the highest form of art is the existence of videogames”
-- from an IGN interview

“Compared to comics or movies, games are special because they're interactive and you're actually experiencing these things. So when you're actually experiencing the violence, it kind of affects you in a different way, more so than with a movie or with a comic book”
-- from a Games Radar interview

“But it's just this idea of playing freely. If you play freely in the game, maybe people can be more open to new ideas, not sequels, but original titles.”
-- Suda51 on why he chose the Wii over the PS3 from a Games Radar interview

Obviously, Suda has a profound respect for the form. He holds it with high regard, but there’s a problem with it. Video games are very insular. It’s a culture that’s afraid to take on different subjects and take on different ideas.

In a way, Travis Touchdown is metaphor of where video games are as an art form. He’s the quintessential video game fan that’s reflective of the culture -- isolated, obsessive, loserish.

But then something happens, he gets a beam katana, which is in effect a lightsaber, the quintessential movie weapon. With it, he tries to move up the rank and be the No. 1 assassin.

His journey is the medium’s journey. It’s the struggle for it to mature and grow. As you progress through the different minigames and stages, you learn two things about the medium A) video games are awful at imitating life (Santa Destroy isn’t meant to be realistic) but B) real life is better at imitating games.

Any time, No More Heroes tries to portray real life it turns out awful. (You can also blame Grasshopper’s small budget for the stripped down world). There are no repercussions for running people over. You can knock over trees but not cars.

Faced with this, games turn insular and adheres to something that’s more accepted -- an 8-bit style. The homage isn’t just an homage for its own sake. The style, the T-shirts, the little knickknacks in his room are actually a commentary on the problem that video games are too referential, too shut off. Faced with real challenges like going on a date with a girl like Sylvia Christel, Travis would rather play a ripoff of 1942.

But what’s amazing about his relationship with Christel is that it evolves and Travis and the UAA agent change during the relationship. The mocking phone calls on the Wii remote are almost like a distant call from another world, talking about the wider artistic possibility beyond the realm of video game culture.

In the end, all of this comes to a head with the final battle against his sister -- Jeane. In a bizarre scene, the last assassin tells Travis the real reason behind his adventure, but before that, they get into a spat about how awful the truth was that it would delay the game. So the solution was to fast-forward the scene. For those wanting to know what she says, here’s the slowed down video.

This scene points out ridiculous contradiction of how video games and American culture deal violence and sex. Apparently, a title that’s so violent that you can have the hero decapitate foes, impales enemies and fight amputees, can’t handle the idea of sex.

In a game where you see a lot of graphic stuff, it’s the idea of sex (and just the idea of talking about it) that threatens publication. This taboo is a problem for games if it ever plans on being a legitimate art form. All forms of art have tackled sex, but strangely video games haven’t. This is the last frontier and one the medium doesn’t dare cross.

All of this can wear on an artist. If you’re art form doesn’t let you cover subjects that matter, then what the hell good is it? What can you say when your words are restricted?

In the end, Suda asks the question How the hell do video games get out of this fucking mess? Travis and his brother duke it out though they don’t want to, and in the end, they’re in a portrait, in a museum as art. Nuff said.

Thoughts on Devil May Cry 4

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 10:06:31 -0800

After the last line of credits and that awful metal song ended, I sat pretty stunned about what I saw. Devil May Cry 4 was a decent addition to the series, but frankly, I was expecting more.

Somehow, I wanted something reimagined, revolutionary, a true evolution to the series but what I played through was a game that takes a half step, not a full, toward improving what was fast becoming a rather dull formula.

When it first came out, Devil May Cry was a turning point in the action genre. It brought the same mechanics found in beat-’em ups like Final Fight and updated them to a 3D world.

But somewhere along the line -- probably with the departure of Hideki Kamiya -- the franchise lost its way and ended up where a lot of Capcom properties go -- the pits of sequel hell.

Like Resident Evil 4, Devil May Cry 4 was an opportunity to re-envision the series, kick it in the pants, put fresh life into it. And Capcom tries to do that with the unexpected hero, Nero. But other than a new control scheme, he doesn’t accomplish much.

For better or worse, Devil May Cry 4 plays like the other three tites in the series. I guess we’ll have to wait for the inevitable Devil May Cry 5 or 6 for something new.

The 7 circles of Guitar Hero divinity

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 14:23:16 -0800

Back in the day when Guitar Hero first came out, my brother and I got in one of the stupidest arguments ever. Before he moved into the house, I was the undisputed king of the game. I owned everyone. I kicked ass and took names. I had virtual women throwing virtual panties at my feet, etc.

But he moved in and had no job and pretty much played Guitar Hero to death. Eventually, we got into this pissing match about who was better. We played Godzilla on hard and he pretty much whupped up on me.

He said, “I’m the Guitar Hero.”

I said, “If you’re the Guitar Hero, then I’m the Guitar King.”

“Ha, you know what’s better than a Guitar King? I’m a Guitar Emperor.”

“Screw that, I’m the Guitar Pope.”

This went back and forth for half an hour. It was idiotic. With that in mind, I’ve decided to make a hierarchy of Guitar Hero titles. Based on that yelling match. Depending on how well you play, you are either one of the following.

Guitar Peon: Zug, zug, you struggle through easy. God did not bless you with rhythm. Instead, you are tone deaf and have lead fingers. Your 10-year-old sister can beat you, and she doesn’t even play video games ...

Guitar Hero: You can play through easy rather easily. If guitar player were a class in World of Warcraft, you would be at level 10. You can amaze people at Best Buy who know nothing about the game.

Guitar King: You can beat the game on medium. You have one fan who thinks you are a beast. He is the Colin Creevy of your rock world, but he would not wash your car if you asked him to.

Guitar Emperor: You can do pretty well on hard. You have the courage to go to bars and perform under live competition. You have a tattoo. That tattoo has a skull on it and maybe a guitar. You are old enough to drink rock juice aka alcohol.

Guitar Pope: You own the game on hard. Hearing you tap on that Fisher Price toy is a religious experience and people record your performances and post them on YouTube. You have a congregation of fans. Women throw panties at your feet, but since you are the Guitar Pope, you know you can’t take advantage of them. Sucks to be you.

Guitar God: You play on expert. Your fingers most so fast and glow so fucking brightly that it blinds people. They cannot look directly at your guitar playing. There is a halo over your head, and there is a religion based on staccato taps of your fingering. You think driving is for pussies and you fly to your destination. You have a tattoo that says Guitar God just because you can.

Super Guitar Nirvana Man With Jebus Like Powers: You pwn expert. There are no videos of your guitar playing because your very presence destroys cameras and sets them aflame. You do not need a guitar; the guitar plays itself. But if you did decide to play the guitar, you can make people rise from the dead. You are that good. You have a beard. When you have Guitar Hero performances, it’s at lake because you can walk on water and fans who want to touch you will drown if they try to storm your stage. (It’s water people.) You are so good that you can turn any liquid to wine and get drunk off that. You are nigh invincible, just stay away from the Romans.

Spore launch date announced

Tue, 12 Feb 2008 10:53:30 -0800

Now, that we know that Will Wright and company will release Spore on Sept. 7, 2008. Here’s what you can do in preparation for the big game.

• The most important thing would be to modify or get a new rig. If you can’t run it, you can’t play it and besides wouldn’t you want to see your creature under the best settings possible. 
• Make money. Yeah sure you could get the regular edition but I bet my last dollar that there will be a shiny new super duper collector’s edition with a making of DVD and an art book. There’s always an art book. 
• Sell your youngest child. Yes, anyone who has seen King of Kong knows how children can get in the way of gaming. Steve Wiebe’s video would have not been all that embarrassing if he didn’t have his son screaming his head off about wiping his ass in the background. 
• Watch a lot of Animal Planet. This will be the only way to know what adaptations will benefit your creature. Is that elephant tusk useful or is it just for show? Do retractable claws make you more dangerous or more of a pussy? The British voiceover has the answers. 
• Create a Spore bunker underneath your house. This room will be devoted and solely for the use of Spore. It will be cozy and womblike shutting the outside world so you can conquer the universe from the comfort of your own hole. 
• Scour the Internet for the name of your alien people. Sorry, Klingon probably won’t be around and Vulcans will be taken. You’ll probably have to settle for something like the Mon Calamari. Oh wait ...

Funniest Quotes from No More Heroes

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 10:35:03 -0800

No More Heroes is one of my favorite games to come out this year, and part of what makes it great is the whacked out dialogue. Just to show you how crazy it is, here are some photos. What ever you do, don’t show this to Fox News.

A Glutton for Competitive Eating

Thu, 7 Feb 2008 10:42:50 -0800

From the totally unnecessary department, I just got this in the mail, but apparently there’s going to be a competitive eating game. Yes, you’ll have to compete with other folks and try to eat as many chicken wings as possible. How the hell is this possible, and we still don’t have a game built around the idea of running for president?

Major League Eating, which oversees all top eating events in the nation including the July Fourth hot dog-eating contest, counts among its members Takeru Kobayashi, the Japanese eating phenomenon, and American Joey Chestnut, current champion of the world.
"Major League Eaters aren't just elite athletes," says Bill Swartz, Head Woof at Mastiff. "They are the people who built America. Or at least the competitive eating part of America. And I am deeply honored that the International Federation of Competitive Eating and Major League Eating choose Mastiff as their exclusive videogame partner."

"We knew this sport would lend itself very well to an interactive format," said George Shea of Major League Eating. "Mastiff has the stomach and the sense of humor to pull this off."

Major League Eating: The Game features the world's greatest gurgitory athletes competing across twelve different food types. Built much like a fighting game, MLE: The Game requires players to show brilliant on-screen eating; a mastery of offensive and defensive weapons including burps, belches, and mustard gas; and of course the technical mastery necessary to avoid emptying one's stomach in a vividly colored reversal of fortune.

Oh well, if this is really legit, I’m just hoping to play as San Jose resident Joey Chestnut. That would rock. Another epic battle with Kobayashi wouldn’t be that bad. But then, I’d have to throw up.