How Tron 2.0 upstaged Far Cry 2
Ok I admit it, the title is not 100% accurate but read on and find out my reasoning. I have revisited two games recently, both first person shooters and both very good titles in their own right. They also happen to represent two very different approaches to the genre. The first is Tron 2.0, hailing from the year 2003. This game is representative of the corridor shooters of yesteryear whose last great contributor was probably Half Life 2. The second game is Far Cry 2, a touchstone in the evolution of the genre. It conjures up terms like “sandbox” and “emergent gameplay” much more readily than “corridor” and “cutscene”. Playing them both simultaneously has illuminated the strengths and weaknesses of each game and has allowed me to reflect on how it is that I can still enjoy both immensely.
Far Cry 2 trumps Tron 2.0 in moments pure emergent gameplay. I know that the course of a battle is up to how I approach it and the decisions I have made. Recollections of my gaming here are stories of my decisions and the consequences, the moments that I was uniquely present and privileged as the game’s player. Yet as many will know Far Cry 2 is not without it’s flaws, with the diamond system being my case in point. For all the polish of this sandbox of an African nation there are moments of inconsistency such as the presence of over 200 identical cases that only the player seems to know about, the magical ability for diamonds to be deposited into my “account” once I eliminate a target or the feeling that the world does not exist without your presence bringing it into being. Tron 2.0 is a very different game to Far Cry 2. Notably as in my feeling as the player in that I am not free to define myself in the world. Yet whilst I am only the unseen controller of Jet, I am convinced of the validity of this world because I am never given any reason to think otherwise. This is because it is consistent, all the way to it’s core.
Many elements of Tron 2.0 felt archaic and obvious when I started to play the tutorial level. I was receiving sequential exposition from programs (NPC’s) about how to move and act in the world, it was as robotic and dry as any tutorial I have experienced. But, as I moved through the area it started to make sense, I was inside a computer system and everything would have to be calculated and strict. This realization provided me with a frame to judge other design decisions I encountered. As I moved played the game I noticed more and more that everything seemed to fit. For example:
- Energy and Health are “downloaded” which is exactly like Half Life, except that it makes sense;
- As a program I increase my version number by gaining buildpoints and define my playstyle by running upgradeable subroutines. Translation: I level up by gaining experience from collectibles and missions and select my equipment depending on the challenges in front of me;
- I am able to download emails flesh out the narrative and world of Tron 2.0 but this act depletes my energy stores as a program;
- When asked to find an alternative route around obvious opposition, the small vent part of the level is defined as a backdoor in the system.
Every layer of Tron 2.0 act in the service of consistent presentation, from the delightfully self aware writing and the easy justification of having a HUD whilst you are digitized into a computer to the single occasion when a program yawns because it had been taken out of sleep mode. It is this consistency that makes this game fun, it allows me to get lost in the fantastical story and it is what is missing at times in Far Cry 2. The use of diamond cases in the game is an acceptable one given the context but it is obvious in its function of enabling the player to progress and act effectively in the world. I am not disputing the element itself, just the fact that it is not consistently presented, it is a collectible whose representation as a case of diamonds feels incidental. As a result I cannot seem to ever get lost in the world of Far Cry 2 even though I have alot of fun.
I thought I might put together a video of some Tron 2.0 gameplay for those unfamiliar with the game:
The consistency of Tron 2.0 is certainly a key factor in my appreciation of it. Not only does it use the central metaphor of being inside a computer system to explain away traditional game design tropes it also uses it to create interesting aesthetic experiences of it’s own. I’ll never forget how I was nearly “formatted” out of existence for example.
The manner in which the number of abilities, sub-routines, available to you differs between systems is a fascinating one and I think it goes some way toward promoting emergent gameplay as sometime certain sub-routines will be unavailable. However allowing you to change them at any time seems to mitigate that, and I might personally have preferred to select my sub-routines upon entering the system and not be able to change them until and unless I was able to upgrade some of them to create more “memory” for additional sub-routines. That would have required a degree of planning and emergent gameplay that would have been interesting to see alongside an otherwise straight first person shooter mechanic.
I’m not quite sure why you’ve chosen to single out Far Cry 2 for comparison to Tron 2.0 but I agree with what you’re saying about the game. It’s extremely thematically cohesive. It’s a game about games… or atleast programs… so it’s easy for the devs to thematically justify everything.
I haven’t played Far Cry 2 yet, but the diamond collection mechanic seems to fit in with a trend I’m increasingly worried about; that is the need to fill every empty corner of a game world with collectibles that create a constant dribble of “rewards” for the player. This, by itself, isn’t that offensive. What’s more offensive is the way these collectibles rarely make sense within the context of the world and the fact that they usually trigger pop-up messages informing you that you’ve just unlocked some tiny piece of meaningless content.
All of these pop-up messages and counters (I’m looking at you Arkham Asylum) are increasingly abrasive when everything else about the game is aiming to “immerse” the player in a world and have them forget that they’re playing a game. At a certain point I don’t want to be interrupted.
@Justin Keverne: I really do enjoy how progressive the sub-routine element of the game is for its time, especially how restrictions are placed on the character when you reach a new area. It prevents the players from falling into certain comfortable patterns of play. Imposing permanence on the choices of subroutines would be interesting I agree, and it would still be possible as a kind of player imposed metagame (FarCry 2 permadeath style). However, given the game was released when it was I am not surprised that player planning is not something that was considered by Monolith.
@Chris Dunkley: I chose Far Cry 2 because I happen to be playing it at the same time I rediscovered Tron 2.0. I saw the two games as representative of two different eras in the FPS and both having alot of positive elements that the other did not. I actually just finished my playthrough of Arkam Asylum tonight and agree that the collectibles in the game were too much of an intrusion. I do think they can have a place in games if they can be justified. The Riddler trophies are a good example of this. They justify the act of collecting as means to develop the character of The Riddler, with his insecurity about the intelligence of Batman. It is still annoying because of all the HUD messages that pop up but at least it has some justification, it is not just shooting flying rats in Liberty City