Witcher III, although not one of my favorite games, has earned a close-to-perfect score from this humble reviewer. It would seem that the folks at CD Projekt Red have a good idea what gamers want: story, choice, diverse skilling, and unique perspectives. Before I break it down, if you need one last push, just play it. Its solid reviews across the industry are well-deserved.
I found myself a bit put-off when I first dove into this story. I found the mechanics a bit clunky as I struggled to understand why drowners were killing me 15 minutes into the game, but as I stepped back and allowed myself to learn the combat system, I realized I would need to use all my skills to survive. Unlike most RPGs, I would need to use a dodge mechanic instead of jumping in and hacking. This difficulty, helped make the rest of this game so much more rewarding, as I learned to appreciate every skill up.
So much about this game shows CD Projekt Red’s dedication to creating an IP that’s unique but not entirely unfamiliar. Buttons are mapped in ways I would not expect, but they made sense when I got used to them. And instead of offering up a plethora of spells for mage builds or abilities for warrior builds, the process is streamlined to just a few abilities the player can use in a relatively “classless” game. Geralt uses spells, but not because he is a mage. Geralt uses swords, but not because he is a warrior. And I think this decision allows for a more personalized story, as the conventional focus on jobs or classes shifts the focus to the character instead of the character’s progression. Nonetheless, the classic elements of excellent RPG are all here. The enemies, supporting characters, locales, and battle focii all harken back to the nerd in me, and despite a really fresh package, it moves like a classic.
The little things all add up to greatness with this title. With a game this ambitious, a few minor glitches/bugs are acceptable, but my experience went off without a hitch. The story progressed in such a way that I could grind for hours for the mega build (my preferred method) or progress to the end and enjoy the story. Replay value is high, and I’m excited to dive into the DLC.
However, something in my heart will not allow me to give this IP a perfect score. It’s so good, but it just seems to drag to a point where it just became a bit of a chore to play. Furthermore, Geralt’s character is one that might benefit from a bit more re-shaping, as he comes across as the typical macho sex-machine whose character often overshadows the abilities of other player characters in this title. Now please know that I’m obviously nitpicking, There are so many awesome facets of this game..
If you love RPGs, just play it. If you were on the fence, just play it. If you’re in the mood for a fresh story and great gameplay, just play Witcher III: Wild Hunt.
I think this title is a bit misleading. Let me begin by stating, I do not think there’s any one definite answer to this question; furthermore, this blog post is more reactionary than critical. With that said, I suppose this post is meant to pose the question: “What do you think will happen, when generations of classic gamers drop the torch?” I address this post to you, the younger generations of gamers. I and many gamers like me who grew up on that old-school sheeze honestly respect you and realize that without your determination, gaming might have died a quiet death years ago.
I guess my introspection all started with a Raspberry Pi. For those of you unfamiliar with the device, it’s just a tiny little computer that takes minutes to set up (I’m oversimplifying a bit). Like any CPU, it completes tasks asked of it. If you string up a couple of them, it has more processing power. My brother, the same man who graciously helped me build my streaming pc, purchased a Raspberry Pi kit to emulate Nintendo and Super Nintendo games. In one end of his little device he plugs in a controller, and the other plugs into the television. I’m sure he also had to download software, but from what I’ve heard, setup is a breeze.
So when I visited him a few weeks ago, he sat me down for a few quick matches of Mortal Kombat III (and kicked my ass because III was always one of my weaker iterations of the franchise). As we exchanged ice balls and flying kicks, his girlfriend’s daughter watched unamused and counted the seconds until she and her friend could hop on our backs for piggyback races. That, my friends, is when I realized that old-school games are not as fun as they were when I was a child, and for better or worse, it would be foolish of us to expect a meaningful portion of the younger generations to embrace this stuff.
Heck, I can’t even embrace it anymore. After COD multiplayer, MMOs, and massive worlds like GTA and Fallout, it’s tough for me to spend hours in front of a television enduring the unforgiving precision and monotony of Battletoads. I can only imagine how tough it might be for people who never grew up with an Atari to appreciate Frogger. After all it’s just pixels that, if you squint enough, resemble logs, cars, and frogs.
Nonetheless I’ll still spend a bit of time on these classics because they fill me with nostalgia. They remind me of who I am and where I’ve journeyed. And during the five whole minutes we spent playing that day, he said something that completely sobered me: “What happens to these games when our generation stops playing.” Now “stops playing” is sad enough to warrant another discussion altogether, but he made an earth-shattering point. Other than as a tool of reminiscence, there’s little use for these games, and when nobody is left to reminisce…
So I wonder where these dinosaurs belong. I love them. And if you’re still reading this, you probably do too. I love them, but I don’t want to play them. That’s where it gets heavy. It’s heavy in that I have a habit of metaphorizing video games and life. I think of all the things, people, times I love/d. I realize that love has its chronological limits. I know that I’m getting older, much like my parents and grandparents are doing or have done. I realize that I’m finite, and as I succumb to the notion that I don’t want to play NES games, I in some way have admitted that obsolescence is unavoidable for video games and people. That’s flippin’ sad.
Am I a bit melodramatic? Probably, but I think somebody, someday will read this and think of me. Somewhere, someone will know that I once existed, so that begs the question: is there a scrapbook/photo album for old-school video games. Does my counterpart one century from now want a way to pretend he understands what it might’ve been like to play PacMan. I hope so.
As I finished the first boss of Blaster Master (one the toughest games I’ve ever played) that day, I came to realize that I will probably never beat that game in my lifespan. I also understood that as the brain with tiny orbiting brains exploded around me, the younger generation is more concerned with the power up it drops than the actual skill it takes to defeat it. But most importantly, I realized that I am unique. Very few can realize the sheer beauty of these dying gems-the sheer sense of accomplishment I felt when I almost defeated Shredder or the sense of life-altering disappointment one can feel after two hours of gaming ended with one misstep and no options left but to start over from the beginning. 50 years from now, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a soul who has defeated Super Mario Brothers 3 without using a warp whistle or unlocked Reptile at the bottom of a spike-filled pit.
Game well, and chime in. I would like to know what you think.
Here’s one old-school dinosaur that might not need curating: the dreadful Gamecube controller.
Speaking of old school, for those of you yearning for a Metroid-ish gaming experience, I highly recommend playing Axiom Verge. It’s well-developed and intuitive game with wholesome indie charm. I’m working on posting a quick video, but feel free to contact me if you have questions in the meantime.
I just finished a replay of Dragon Age Origins, and quite frankly it stands the test of time. The DLC is by far the best package I have EVER played, and the game itself embodies great design and, for its time, revolutionized the way gamers viewed RPGs.
I really dig replaying games. I no longer have 24 hour chunks of time at my disposal, so I cannot replay as much as I used to, but I still try to attempt an occasional redo to experience every last gear piece and boss battle out of these old gems. And when I tell people I’m playing games like these, I will invariably receive a response along these lines: “I’ve heard that’s a great game; should I give it a try?”
The knee-jerk response is “Hell yeah you should play it. It’s a classic.” And that’s followed by my 5 minute rant about everything that makes it great and how it revolutionized blah, blah, blah and so on. But I’ve learned to temper my responses. Way too many times, I’ve steered people into games that quite frankly aren’t what they used to be, and by no means will they deliver what I promise. These awesome games that I used to love often fuel their futures of gaming, but their futures are our presents. So when I recommend a fellow gamer play Dragon Age Origins, she/he is invariably comparing it to the games she/he has already played that expounded upon its strengths and eliminated its weaknesses-games like Dragon Age Inquisition, Mass Effect 2, Fallout New Vegas, Diablo III, The Witcher III, or Skyrim.
And there’s the nostalgia trap. Nostalgia only works if you were there when the (insert cool-but-yesterday event or product here) happened upon the scene . I can’t keep pretending everyone will appreciate the same things I used to love, and here are a few excellent examples.
Grunge
We paid between 20 to 100 dollars for flannel shirts that should’ve cost 5 at a farm-implement store, and wore said flannel in the middle of August. Every kid on earth owned a guitar, and taught her/himself to play it within a week because the music we loved was so easy. We grew our hair out and complained about everything even though we complainers were usually middle-income kids who had no concept of the intrinsic nature of our white privilege and that much of the meaningful lyrics coming out of the nineties were actually coming from the genre many of us despised.
This is what grunge did to me.
80’s Major League Baseball
I loved baseball growing up. I still own, sitting in long boxes in my basement storage area, 35000 baseball cards. I grew up revering the players, and the sport Itself seemed so pure and untouchable. Then the players went on strike in 94, and I had no baseball. So I abandoned it for over 10 years, and found better things to do with my high school/college years.
It’s easy to get caught up in the “Those were the days” intercourse, but those were NOT the good times. Yeah, we didn’t have the constant reminder of steroids, but we were watching the steroids era pioneers find their places in the 80’s; McGwire, Bonds, Palmeiro, and Clemens are just a few. And what was lacking in PEDs, players surely made up for with cocaine.
I amassed over 40,000 baseball cards as a kid, and every time I move, I come one step closer to burning them all.
Crystal Pepsi
Nothing but RC cola at a Pepsi price point. A brilliant ad campaign complete with Hagar-era Van Halen music had everyone wanting to buy this junk months before it actually hit shelves. But our love affair with this sprite-clear cola ended much quicker than it actually began. Nonetheless, this flash-in-the-pan product takes me back.
Woodstock
Okay, so this is a bit out of my lifespan, but I don’t see how someone could not be nostalgic about Woodstock. After all, a half million people got together to live through a weekend of pure shit weather and really tough conditions, but in doing so, they all seemed pretty happy and loving. I mean people bathed naked together and shared their drugs despite the ever-present spector of cops waiting for them when they left. To top it all off, there was a shortage of medical attention (maybe that’s why they shared the drugs). This had to be something special because I would never do this, but a crapton of people actually did.
Nonetheless hindsight tells us, the concert did nothing in terms of “peace”. It wasn’t a sit-in. There were no fire hoses. We hear few reports of citizens actually making a difference whatsoever. And as we look even more closely, we see that the peaceful pursuit of drugs, sex, and rock music (despite its statement of peace) could not overshadow the fact that a race war was and still is taking place in our country, and at the time, citizens were dying in a foreign country over a political ideological pissing match.
But that’s nostalgia. The ones who lived it, would never trade the experience for anything. They feel something different those of us who look back upon it having never loved it. And that is why, if you must ask for my recommendation, you shouldn’t play Dragon Age Origins.
I felt compelled to include a current picture to show you I’m better now. Ironically, there’s a Mudhoney poster in the background.
Here’s a list of more games I think you shouldn’t play.
It amazes when I play this now to think that this won awards for best graphics in 1997 and still receives praise for how awesome it looked back in the day. I’m currently on my fifth playthrough. The music alone is enough to get me tingly, but I’m not quite sure it is for anyone who has never played it before..
However, Square Enix has teased a remake. Quite honestly, the first trailer gave me goosebumbs. Kids, pay attention, because if this remake does actually drop, and the developers give it ¾ the love they gave the original, you’re in for one hell of a narrative that might change your gaming life.
This was a great game. One of my first Nintendo games, (Well of course Mario was first) it ranks with Zelda and Mario on my nostalgia factor. It had platforming and dungeon crawling as it split perspectives when your protagonist exited his tank to take on bosses mutated by plutonium. The difficulty factor was high, and I never actually beat the game. Finishing this is on my gaming bucket list.
This game was last gen (2009), and perhaps it may appeal to some, but Wet seemed to fit its era well. It contained some pretty unique (revolutionary is overstatement, but almost appropriate) elements I had never seen packaged like it before. This hack and slash allowed for smooth transition between gun and sword. Its grindhouse feel punctuated itself with visual transitions into comic book silhouette scenes wherein the player just went nuts killing baddies. And to top it off, it allowed for time slowdown on shooting similar to Fallout 3, but in its own unique way. I also appreciate how the female protagonist, breaks a few, not all, of the video game female archetypes. However, I’ve only met one other person who likes it, and he played it around the same time as I did.
What are your nostalgia games? Your nostalgia moments?
Yes it’s been almost eight months since I finished this game, but better late than never, right?
I found myself streaming and playing this title quite a bit last summer, and in all honesty, I think this is a hidden gem of the current console generation. It came out soon after PS4 and Xbox One moved into our lives, and Monolith Productions does so much with this title that I think it has set a standard for what current-gen games can and should do.
The story itself is an excellent weaving of Tolkien lore, (I’ve read quite a bit of Tolkien, and I’m excited to check out the new book, Beren and Luthien) and it does well to grab the attention of the die-hard fans while offering an intriguing narrative for gamers and casual fans of the series. Basically, we play the role of Talion, who is killed immediately and possessed by a powerful spirit who offers him the opportunity to avenge his death. I’m sure you know what happens next: lots of bloody orc bits strewn across the landscape. And of course, because you’re dead, you just keep coming back to kill and kill again. The story progression also offers some twists along the way, and an excellent interaction between in-game easter eggs, harvesting, side-questing, and character development. Because the game takes place in Mordor (Pretty much enemy central for those of you unfamiliar with the series), this game is quite dark with little opportunity to catch your breath and relax. And quite honestly, that discomfort drives this game in a really neat direction.
If you’re familiar with the Arkham games, you’ll recognize quite a bit of the mechanics in this game, but not all. The fighting is of course a careful balance of offense and defense based on enemy numbers and actions. I really enjoyed the fighting, probably more so than the fighting in Arkham Asylum and Arkham Knight. Locomotion is divided among an appropriately limited free travel, mountable creatures (they fight with you too), and running. Like other Warner Brothers game of its kind, stealth is an option, but not the only one. The stealth is simple, and I appreciate it this way, as it counters the overwhelming difficulty of other stealth games on the market today. If you’re a stealth purist however, you may find these mechanics a little watered-down.
My gripes are minor. The fighting does become a bit button-mashy and repetitive at times. The menus proved a bit clunky and difficult to navigate; it seems as though (I played on PS4) the developers of this game tried to hard to implement the touchpad, and in doing so, created two menus when one would suffice. Lastly, the questing proved a bit tedious and repetitive.
Overall, this game impresses. Exploding an orc’s head after a 16-hit combo feels good, and as a fan of both the Arkham games and Tolkien’s Middle Earth tales, I find this game incredibly satisfying. As we approach the launch of its sequel, I applaude Monolith Productions and wish for continued success with Middle Earth Shadow of War. Please share your thoughts in the comments section and game happily.
There has been a lot of press directed (and with good reason) at the amount, or lack thereof, of diverse characters. Let’s not sugarcoat it with the term ‘diverse.’ We want our major characters–not the sinister antagonists–to have browner, blacker, or tanner skin with non-traditional cultures supporting decisions and value structures. If I could see a raise of hands, I think I would notice that many of you agree with me. But I don’t think enough is being done to diversify characters in video games, and it’s not just the developers’ faults.
Do you spot any hidden messages here?
But this isn’t just a left-wing soapbox. This is life, my friends. Fifteen years ago, I probably would have attributed what little success I had achieved to one important person: Me. But I’m older now, and I realize that I’ve needed others to pull me out of the metaphorical mud on more than one occasion. The simple word for it is humility, and with humility comes an overwhelming sense that life has its own way of conquering anyone, despite the size of his or her britches. So with this understanding comes the unavoidable truth that many of us will depend on other people at some points in our journey. And if I spend my days alienating and demonizing large percentages of potential allies, I am living life contrary to the basic tenets of self-preservation. Basically; understanding, meeting, and accepting many different varieties of people is an investment that costs me very little but can provide incredibly high dividends.
And it’s an investment that also costs game designers/publishers little as well. If games reflect a publisher’s interest in its customers, those customers may return the favor when the chips are down. Show the populace that you recognize all of them, and they will recognize you.
Maybe I’m too optimistic. Maybe the gaming industry is floating atop a sea of hungry consumers poised to devour and destroy any titles at the first drop of blood. If that’s the case, I guess the people who create games need to quickly appeal to the largest group of gamers as quickly as possible. And if that’s the case, we should build games that cater to and reinforce the perspectives, experiences, and desires of the majority. Right?
I’ll swallow that idea, but everything I’ve read points to the notion that Blacks, Latinos, and women are dispelling the myth that White males dominate the market. Do the research if you don’t believe me, but it’s tough to deny that your average gamer isn’t the stereotype of 30 years ago. But the average video game protagonist still progresses within the antiquated expectations of its race and gender.
The problem lies in archetypes. A scantily-dressed, beautiful woman who hacks and shoots through hordes of meanies while immersing the player in visual and verbal sexual entendres is a wonderful thing…once or twice; however, this character is systematically being repackaged and remarketed ad nauseum. White American or British soldiers (and their token friends) hop from one minority-laden locale to another destroying all enemies in their path. Again, I stress that there’s nothing wrong with this formula, for I have logged an insane number of hours enjoying it, but it has become the magic equation that designers perennially adhere to for first-person shooters. Diversification is not happening because the industry refuses change the rules.
So the industry is the culprit? Absolutely not. We are the problem, fellow gamers. The heart of gaming is us insomuch that without us, this industry would violently seize up and cease to function. We purchase these repackaged titles and their repackaged characters en masse.
I think many of us are afraid to make the leap to something different, especially when said leap comes with a 60-dollar price tag. And in many respects, changing the way we’ve done things for decades scares us all. Perhaps this explains why indie game designers are pushing the limits and asking gamers to rethink outdated video game stereotypes. They usually require less commitment on our part: less time, less marketing, and of course less cost to play. With the reduced price, I’m sure, comes less hesitation to purchase. And if we see that it costs less, we’re willing to step out of our AAA-game comfort zone (the consistent-but-stale games we trust).
Check out my stereotypical white male protagonist whose ability to dominate a battle is matched only by his sexual prowess!
So let’s take a look at the media. I’m seeing a lot more articles spelling out exactly what I’m talking about here, but these articles are usually housed on the same websites or zines that reward reprocessed games with 4 out of 5 stars or 9 out of 10 points. And does a journalist dare to write in a review, “The mechanics are tight and responsive, but the preponderance of white soldiers does not jive with the actual percentage of minorities in the U.S. Army.” or “The graphics create a realistic backdrop for the bland stereotypes that float across the foreground?” Are journalists afraid to rate AAA titles low? I think this blog kind of makes me a part of the media now, so I should be careful when I say this, but gaming media, with obvious exceptions, generally caters to big money developers and offer little resistance to White-centric video game culture.
Today’s gaming titles reflect us, as is evident with improvements in photo-realistic characters, crowd-sourcing, increasingly complex narratives, online multiplayer, and creative sandboxes. And as developers’ palates evolve so too do the games they build for us. We’ve watched this artform move from Pong (a game with one pixelated ball bouncing between two rectangles) to No Man’s Sky (a systematically-generated sandbox of an entire universe). We are truly living in a golden age of gaming, and at the helm are us. Gamers, developers, distributors, reviewers, artists, testers, and a slew of others make these games work. I challenge anyone to tell me gaming is not a reflection of humanity. And as a gamer, that is truly exciting.
But I find myself truly troubled by the reflections we see in our pixelated mirror. The images on our screens are by no means representative of the society that has built them. This world is populated by people, not stereotypes; nonetheless, the gaming industry is holding fast to non-inclusive portrayals of humanity.
Humanity is amazingly diverse, and when we begin to nurture humanity more in our gaming culture, good things will happen. I can’t predict what those good things will be, but I feel confident in that statement. Let’s create, share, and play games that reflect an investment in humanity not in a lump aggregate of dollar signs.
Gamers: Stop paying for repackaged stereotypes!
AAA Developers: Start creating fresh stereotypes instead of replaying the old ones.
Indie Developers: Keep it up, but don’t become complacent! Were counting on you!
Gaming Media: Keep recognizing the lack of diversity and equity in gaming and consider making these talking points in reviews.
We are not helpless. Together we can create and play games that represent us.
I’m over 30, and I play video games…often. This is me telling the world that I am by no means ashamed of myself; I work a middle-income job with middle-income benefits, run a mile every day because I worry about my health, volunteer time to my community, and do many of the things you might expect a man my age to do. And this blog is my triumphant affirmation that I have earned the right to sit in front of a television with a controller.
I have no reason to cower behind euphimisms when I justify my hobby. Heck I shouldn’t even need to justify my hobby, nor should anyone for that matter. Obsession is a disorder, gaming isn’t. I welcome all types of people of all ages to please join me in celebrating some commonalities; however, do so knowing that I write from the perspective of a man caught halfway between adolescence and middle age. I look at my world, as I’m sure many people my age do, through a unique looking glass; I recall memories from triumphant eras in gaming history while awesome gaming innovation awaits me in decades to come. I welcome all readers,but I encourage all to remember that I write with my perspective hoping that you will use it to shape your own.
I quess, in some ways, gaming is more than a hobby; it’s my catalyst for critical thought. Existential questions (and sometimes the answers to them) about everything from home loans to raising children materialize when I’m leveling, newbing, pwning, and saving.
My place on this journey is truly ambiguous: not old enough to be wise and not young enough to be naive. However, I’m just the right age to recognize my strengths, and I’m good at sitting on a couch controlling dots of color. I’m also somewhat good at my nine-to-five job, but I don’t think anyone wants to read about that. I will never claim to be anyone special or unique, but bear with me and join another human being whose future is the same as yours: uncertain and probably downloadable.
Dilla riding a rhino backwards at a work conference.
This hobby has given me much, and I refuse to simply review titles and put my stamp of approval or disapproval on the newest thing that comes my way. I believe I have meaningful ideas to share, and this is the way for me to bring them to you. Games truly are representative icons of the societies who make and play them. Let’s dig into gaming and figure out what it’s trying to tell us. Let’s wax philosophical about pixels, consoles, and downloadable content.
40-Something Gamer 