To keep going on the video game theme, I think one of the main reasons it has become difficult to launch new intellectual properties in the industry is that 3D gaming (not 3D as in stereoscopic 3D, but 3D in terms of depth of playing field) has made it next to impossible to market new iconic characters. Most new games made feature either a first-person perspective or a third-person perspective. In the case of the former, the player never gets a chance to see what his or her character looks like, and it is very difficult to market a character that the player never sees. In the case of third-person games, the camera is nearly always situated behind the player, meaning that all the player ever sees of his or her main character is the back of his or her head. It's similarly difficult to market the back of a character's head. More to that point, I think that this perspective, although convenient for gameplay purposes, takes away from some of the connection with and caring about the character that a player should feel. A successful video game should make the player both concerned about and responsible for the well-being of the character on the screen. Note that games that aim for immersion (you ARE the character!) are the best-off in the first-person perspective, but, again, it is difficult to market immersion more than once. For games that are supposed to be character-driven, the side-scrolling template is the most effective.
Which character would you rather try to turn into a franchise:
This one?
metroid.retropixel.net
Or this one?
metroid.retropixel.net
Much as I love Metroid Prime (it's one of my top 10 favorite games of all time), I doubt I would have enjoyed it nearly as much if it had not been able to trade on the preexisting image I have of Samus Aran from the 2D games. How can the industry fix this? I'm not really sure. Sales do not seem to be suffering (although most new franchises are shot down after the first game tanks), but the larger danger is a lack of creativity in the industry. How can developers create a new character that will grab the imaginations of gamers in the 3D era?
I just finished Kirby's Epic Yarn today, since work was cancelled for the third day straight. The graphics were charming, just as they had been in videos. But it struck me that, once you get into the game, you barely notice the main conceit of having everything made out of some form of textile. Not to say that the game is not beautiful, but I think that's the nature of a fast-paced platformer--it has to keep the action moving, or else the player feels like a level is empty. How many of us have really enjoyed the aesthetic qualities of Super Meat Boy? Probably not too many, because the game always keeps the player's brain focused on how to clear the next hurdle. So why, then, is Kirby's Epic Yarn a great game? Why has Nintendo been the dominant force in platformers (especially 2-D plaformers) since they pioneered the genre? It is because Nintendo has world-class level designers. I cannot think of any company that can match the creativity of level design that takes place at Nintendo's development studios. One of the levels in Kirby's Epic Yarn allow players to switch gravity on and off, allowing for some gameplay reminiscent of Super Mario Galaxy. Some others turn Kirby into a dolphin, and ask him to flip and toss balls with his nose to gain beads, which in this game are analogous to Sonic's rings. Another level has constant winds from different directions, and the player has to figure out when to trigger Kirby's parachute form in order to successfully traverse the level.
Some reviewers have made much of the fact that, since Kirby cannot die, the game is too easy. I find it refreshing. Looking back at platformers from the past (I write this thinking specifically of Ducktales, for the NES, a great game and fine example of level design in it's own right), dying and having to restart a level from the beginning, limiting continues (or not including any in the first place), or dying and having to do the same stuff you've already beaten thirty-five times just to find out that, nope, that's not how you beat this boss, either; all of these things are used to prolong gameplay time, not enhance enjoyment. They are implemented to hide the fact that there are only five levels in the game. To be honest, there are two reasons I play video games. First, I play for the power fantasy. Like most little boys, I grew up with action figures of superheroes, and fantasized that I, too, had the power to alter the world to my liking. Maybe I haven't grown up so much. The other reason I play video games is for the sense of exploration that comes with discovering new levels, or parts of a new world. The system of punishment in Kirby's Epic Yarn, where the player loses beads if he or she gets hit or falls off a ledge, is perfect for those like me who want to explore the world fully, while still maintaining a sense that the player's actions have effects in the video game world.
To wrap up, Nintendo is still the best developer in the world, and it is not due to the characters, nor the atmospheres they create. It is because their levels are the most uniquely and perfectly designed in the entire industry.
I welcome you. Please wipe your feet before you begin your journey into my mind. I plan to write about the stuff that I like, which is how I came up with the name. Things falling into this category will be varied, as I like many different things, ranging from baseball to hipster music to Japanese girls culture to Batman to video games to cooking. I may even swear occasionally. It's gonna be wild.
More succinct? Okay. Here's what I'm all about, in one glorious picture:
These posts may take the form of a series of reviews (most likely), a sharing of thoughts, a serialized version of some stories a la Charles Dickens back in the day (yes, I just heard you groan. That's not nice. You might really like it. No? Well, we'll see), or fodder for debate. In all cases, I will consult the highest authorities available (Wikipedia) to ensure content accuracy. And I promise not to sign off with a pretentious moniker until I make it big. Deal?
