Binary Swan

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:

Red Faction: Guerrilla is a fun game to play. There are explosions that are meaty and things that fall down. Walls can have holes in them, whole bridges can collapse if you so chose. It speaks to feelings of empowerment evoked in so many titles in the action genre. I have previously made mention of Red Faction in my post about how actions within a game environment can change, by altering its composition, how we react to and experience it.. Upon reflection I think that the “world-destruction” element of the game’s design whilst providing a very enjoyable experience in altering the game space also contributes to Red Faction’s main failing.

Now, Red Faction is a fun game to play, but it has a story that is done a service by being called “throw-away”, as if you actually had something to hold in the first place. You can take a look at any review of the game and they invariably make mention of the flawed narrative that overlays a brilliant gaming experience. But, you are not drawn into the world of the Red Faction struggle, the plight of the people of Mars, or the machinations of a cold and sadistic EDF and this flaw is seldom an issue because you can still enjoy the title anyway. And the source of these flaws seems readily identifiable; the weak voice acting, poor writing and a lack of meaingful character development (I have to strain to remember the name of the Alex’s brother, the reason you drawn into the “resistance”). These elements are recongisable because the open world / sandbox genre of games now contains examples of narrative done right, or at least better. Grand Theft Auto: IV springs to mind.

However, in Red Faction: Guerrilla even if they had gotten the narrative right, it would not have made a lick of difference because the very nature of the gameplay would acts as a barrier. Upon completion of the story, you as Alex Mason have liberated the sectors of Mars, destroyed the EDF power base and freed the Martians. If this conclusion came at the end of compelling narrative developments you have might believably felt pride in your special achievement, helping those whose survival you care about. However, you have also destroyed the very infrastructure of Mars in doing so, and therein lies the problem.

The destruction engine of the game results in an open world of ruins. Moving around a ‘liberated’ Mars evokes a sense of despair even if the people around you seem oblivious. The Red Faction has shot itself in the foot by eliminating the means by which they might be able to improve conditions on Mars now that the EDF has been defeated. The destructive changes to the world of Mars in Red Faction: Guerilla, which lie solely in the hands of the player, clash with the possible feelings of achievement already noted. You would be inheriting a junkyard. But, because the narrative is weak, you have little attachment to the struggle of the story and therefore the destruction can be labelled as fun and your actions are meaningless. This possibility speaks to an area of concern of mine in contemporary games design, that the interaction between game design and narrative is not being full realised by developers.

The success of Red Faction: Guerrilla financially leads me to believe that a sequel will be in the pipeline soon. If Volition take the criticisms of narrative that are so prevalent and fix them for a follow up the result might not be a better gaming experience. This is because the flaws we all seem to spot so easily do not address the relationship of narrative to gameplay in the game and the consequences of one upon the other. Is it simply a matter of the immaturity of the games industry? Or, are actions games doomed to always be the mindless “popcorn” experiences that can also be seen in modern cinema?

The advancing technology of modern game engines is now allowing gamers to interact with game worlds in ways never seen before. Some recent examples include:

• the somehow beautiful looking fires that burn through vegetation and buildings alike in Far Cry 2
• the weighty, airborne and often hilarious response of a pedestrian to the bonnet of your Infernus in Grand Theft Auto IV (driven whilst ‘drunk’ in the game)
• the collapse of a two-storey office as a result of the detonation of carefully placed remote explosives on the back of a transport truck which was recently driven into the heart of said building: Red Faction Guerilla

These interactions can sometimes fundamentally change the mood and experience of a game environment. Any player of Far Cry 2 who has cleared out a guard post using molotov cocktails can attest to this. Such changes to game environments are much more dramatic these days because of the technology available. However such changes have been occurring in games for much longer. Decals that signal the impact of a rocket in any one a thousand different FPS shooters have been around almost as long as the genre itself. They all function to immerse the player and provide cues to what has happen in the space of the game. They provide a dynamic visual history of a players experience of their game and thus can also dynamically affect mood and experience.

This brings me to the point of this post. Deliberately using such a system to undermine the intended mood of a game.

The game: Thief 3

The means: Moss Arrows

For those unfamiliar with the Thief series, the player reprises the role of Garrett, a master thief and all round sneaky guy. He uses his skills and tools to remain hidden from guards and security forces whilst stealing various valuables from their careless owners. One such tool is the moss arrow which when fired lays down a matt of moss on a horizontal surface, muffling the sounds of footsteps. The arrows have a perfectly suited functional role in the game and are quite useful. However their visual effect on the game world runs contrary to the established style and mood of the Thief world. Garrett’s world is a poorly lit  mash up of dull gothic / pre-industrial / medieval locales which are notable for their stone and timber floors, not for their naturalistic aspects.

I noticed this and thought I’d go about emphasizing this disjunction. Below are some of the results (all before and after shots are taken of paid actors and might not represent actual results for every individual)

As the images can attest, the world is suddenly changed. The previously cold, dull and hostile world is now vibrant, an almost pleasant glade lit only by a small fire or the moon itself, a city reclaimed by nature. The arrows create scenes that calm and relax, a repose from the stressful moments of thieving that previously had occupied my thoughts.

So remember kids, the next time you think about firing a moss arrow, destroying a building, or lighting a fire, consider how it might change your experience. Maybe try shoot a smiley face of bullet holes to lighten up a digital warzone.