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DevourerOfTime

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Top 20 Favourite Games (Circa 2010)

This is a list I made in January of 2010. Being nearly three years old, I cannot with confidence say I share this opinion, but I want to copy it out for "historical preservation". Which basically means I like to look through these time to time and I keep on fucking forgetting them.

I was also able to grab the descriptions I wrote up three years ago as well, much to my embarrassment. The way I approached this sort of thing is that there are hundreds, thousands, millions of reason why I love these games the most, but I could always grab a solid reason and write up a paragraph about it. So I start each game with the basic reason why I love the game and an expansion of why it was so special.

And that's it! Enjoy!

List items

  • Living And Breathing - From the moment the game's 3 hours of opening cutscenes started, I knew I was in for something special. But what I didn't know is how much so. The town of Inaba and it's inhabitants gripped me in a way no video game has ever done before. The two hundred hours of my life I spent in this game do not seem like such. No. The experience I had playing this game feels like a year of my life well spent. Spent with friends. Spent with family. Spent solving crimes and jumping into televisions. Okay, maybe that last part is not so true to life, but still. Now, before you label me as one of those freaky people who get a virtual girlfriend and marry them, hear me out. I grew up in a small town by most people's standards. I grew up in a modest lifestyle, soaking up video games yes, but appreciating the natural world around me and the life story's people had to tell. As opposed to Persona 3's sterile, large Japanese megacity atmosphere, the town of Inaba has it's qualities that remind me a lot the town I grew up in, despite the very obvious Japanese setting. Gossip runs fast. Everyone knows each other. Shops that line the street are closing one by one as the mega-corporations move in. Kids are seen hanging out by the river, skipping rocks or going fishing. Buildings and establishments throughout the town have their history, history slowing being seeped from the town as foreign competition moves in. Kids complain about the lack of stuff to do in the town, relishing the thought of the day they move away while the old are constantly complaining about the smallest of changes to the neighbourhood. Students walk together to school, as their houses are only a few blocks from their destination. Schools are underfunded, with less than professional teachers and kids wondering if their education will even mean anything once they go out into the world. You are never too far away from appreciating a natural setting and camping is a appreciated form of recreation. Yes, high school students will drink and there will be funny moments to be had from it. And when an awful event happens, the town is crippled under its weight. The town of Inaba is a living, breathing world, one that parallels another that I have lived in almost my entire life.

  • Perfection - The long king of my list has been dethroned. Does that mean I have outgrown the title? Has the DS outing destroyed my love for it? Did finally getting my hands on a SNES copy make it lose its luster? Hell no. I still cherish this game as I have always have, maybe even more. I consider the game to be one of the only perfect games I have played. One without improvements to be made. The easily grasped gameplay betrayed the depth dual/triple techs and unconventional bosses provided. The characters never stuck to their underlying tropes and, while never acting out of character, acted in ways that you would not expect. The game's story was the definition of an epic story at the time, providing a vast world to explore in six time eras and providing you with twists and turns not seen in the media. The soundtrack, while not as good as it's successor's, still is one of the finest crafted in the 16-bit era. The localization, while diverging a lot from the literal translation and leaving several ambiguities, sprinkled in a lot of charm and wit through the game's entirety. Do not get me wrong, I LOVE this game. It will stay that way for the rest of my life. But still, even if it is "perfect", another game had to come around to become the new king.

  • In-Fucking-Sane - Disgaea... Oh, Disgaea. There is not a single element in the game where "Obsessive Compulsive" or "bat-fucking-insane" does not apply. From the whimsical story, to the outrageous characters, to the sheer depth of gameplay. Disgaea is one of those games that you will go up against an enemy literally hundreds of levels higher than you. You have zero hope of winning the battle and the game intends you to lose. But! If you come back on your third or fourth playthough, you can kill that impossible boss and, most likely, get a completely different ending for it. Disgaea is the game where anything and everything has stats that can be increased and/or can be leveled up, including (but not limited to) your abilities, your aptitude in using weapons, the weapons themselves, the armor your wearing, each character's influence in the Dark Assembly, the senators in the Dark Assembly, the one-use items you have, the shopkeeper you buy your items from, the little beings living inside each of your items/equipment/weapons, etc. etc. etc. Just by looking at your characters themselves, they each can have stats going into the millions and billions and have a max level of 9999 (186,000 if you count Reincarnation). The game is daunting, completely non-user-friendly, frustrating, has way too much to keep track of, but if you are out of your right-mind (which I proudly say I am), you will find endless enjoyment out of it. I've spent 500+ hours in the game and have come nowhere close to exploring everything.

  • Outer Wall - You are just given an ultimatum that will significantly change your fate. Taking the path of most resistance, you're conflicted. Did I make the right choice? You step through the door. Cold wind blasts your face. A cloudy sky is behind you, somber clouds floating quickly by the full moon and the starry night sky. You stand on ground of near destroyed metal and rock, ready to give way at any second. It is unnatural, yet a small set of wildlife has begun to adapt and make it their home. The place contains an eerie, calming atmosphere with an unknown history. Ghosts haunt this place, attacking all that is near. Why are these spirits vengeful? What conflict left them here? What horrors has this place experienced? You ponder this as you make the treacherous climb to whatever lies ahead in your journey. Alas, some things are better left unexplained...

  • Immersion - Yeah, I chose the same factor for two games. What of it? You wanna fight about it?! While Half-Life 2 emphasized this overarching desperate struggle against oppression, Metroid Prime stuck to a singular focus: you are Samus and you are alone. While pretty much the distilled idea of the series in general, it took an unorthodox jump into 3D for it to be fully realized. Of course, it's the little things that pull you in, make you believe you are one with the noble bounty hunter and living in this harsh, majestic, mysterious terrain. Your visor would mist in a damp climate and blur while submerged. The planet, it's history, it's ecosystem could all be scanned and it's information absorbed. The lush plant life behaved naturally while you walked by it, shoot through it, or watched the wind blow past it. Enemies were primarily wildlife that acted on nothing else than instinct. Wasps defended their hive, maternal animals protected their young, and most would just go about their business like you weren't there. But most memorable is the simple glimpse of reflection of Samus's face on the visor when exposed to a large blast of light. Because as you see this, you aren't a character model with sound files attached anymore: you were looking through the eyes of living, breathing individual. She was here. Alone on this beautiful, dangerous planet. And you were in her shoes. Everything became so much more tangible and breathtaking once you realize this.

  • Immersion - While it's initial existence did little for me, due to the giant barriers between it and I, it was Portal that allowed me to dip my toes into the life of the last free man. The opening few hours of the game had me hooked. It was unlike any other shooter I had seen. The lack of control you have over the world around you really emphasizes just how oppressive and bleak it is. The desperate, near weaponless run from the columbine's unrelenting assault through the train tracks, sewers, and various wreckage sticks out as some of one of the most engaging sequences in the medium. Even the little things, like the fading of someone's voice when you walk away pull you into the world around you. And the game rarely, if ever, ejects you from this experience. Once you have let yourself be completely immersed in this world, you aren't leaving until you turn off that console or hit the end of the game.

  • ***I would include this description, but MAN do I not agree with it now***

  • Something Old, Something New - Super Mario 64 is the finest example of a series jump into 3D. Never forgetting or abandoning its roots, It retains everything that made the series great. The enemies, the jumping mechanics, the power-ups, the bosses... each spun into a 3D setting. The thing that sticks with me most though, the part that other 3D Mario games haven't recognized, is the stage structure. There are stages that are best viewed in a 2.5D camera angle, yes, but the fully 3D stages is what I am referring to. They are sort of structured like a World in Super Mario Bros. 3, with each stage being a new star. There is a certain tying theme between each stage, but each is a different experience. Sure, you start in the same spot in SM64 and aren't actually in different levels, but this allows for the challenges to be completed in any order, using unique strategies to complete them, even if some of them verge on breaking the game.

  • Tim Schafer - Only one word can describe Tim Schafer: Man-crush. Not only has the guy had his fingers all over some of the best games in the adventure genre over the past two decades, but he constantly out does himself. While he is by no means the only one working on these titles, they are created and hatched in Tim's wondrous mind. And Psychonauts is his best creation yet. The writing, the world, and the characters are all so original, clever, and memorable. The game itself wasn't perfect, but Tim crafts an endearing, enjoyable, and humorous experience that one does not easily forget.

  • Emotional Invocation - I recently read an article about Earthbound, the predecessor to Mother 3, and a simple quote from it pretty much sums up both titles: "pinning down why EarthBound is so fiercely loved by its fans is probably something we, as a species, will never, ever be able to do... there are a thousand other details that are important to someone else that completely washed over me." Too true. As for me, the most important aspect is the combination of animation, sound, writing, music, and, in some cases, even the gameplay to evoke a wide array of emotional response throughout the tale. I cried; I laughed. I felt scared; I was depressed. I felt oppression; I felt sympathy. I was shocked; I was overwhelmed. This is a talent in game design I truly admire and Mother 3 pulls it off tremendously.

  • Consequence - I like games to have a good challenge, otherwise I begin to question whether the game is worth my time. And Fire Emblem is by no means a game without challenge. You are consistently given slim odds. Constant enemy reinforcements make you always outnumbered, with each of enemy capable of dismantling one of your units if you aren't prepared. But the most devastating, and appealing, challenge of the game comes from your own conscience. You see, every one of your units has a backstory, a personality, a relationship with another one of your characters, a purpose for fighting these hopeless battles. But death is permanent. Your placed in the game as the group's tactician, and it is immediately obvious that unless you think out every move, one of these people's blood will be on your hands. When you factor in the fact that the game doesn't let you replay maps, you better make every turn, every attack, every move, every piece of experience count, or you'll be facing some grim consequences.

  • Fuuuuuuuu-sion---HA -It's six thirty in the morning. I've got no real reason to be up this late. But man, if I could just get this Thanatos to have Ghastly Wail, Fear Boost, AND Die For Me, than I may be able to transfer them over to Satan. Along with the fact that I just fused Lucifer, the combination attack of Armageddon would allow me to instant kill nearly any enemy in the game. Mwahahahahahaha. *ahem* There are many draws to Persona 3, but the nearly infinite combinations of abilities and personas kept me entertained for way longer than it should, to the point I considered self diagnosing myself with OCD. You have the ability to fuse your personas (which effectively govern your stats, skill set, and strengths and weaknesses of your main character) together into more powerful ones. And then there is the ability to pass your personas' abilities on through fusion. And that was enough for me. It didn't take long for me to get hooked on such a simple mechanic and my obsession insisted in making the best personas possible throughout the game. This provided me with unstoppable shadow-killing-machines that brought me nothing but sheer glee during my dungeon crawling sessions.

  • Poke, Poke, Poke! Ouch! OUCH! - There is a point in this game where you fight a boss in a church during a wedding ceremony. Princess Toadstool is about to get married to some freak Booster. You crash the wedding, save the princess, and get a kiss from Bowser. Booster has no intention on stopping you, so the wedding's chefs try to. With a Giant. Fucking. Cake. If I need to explain myself further, then you clearly are not realizing why this game is so captivating. What's great is that, while this is the defining moment in SMRPG for me (a moment I quote and act out on a regular basis), the whole game is built on moments of charm and wackiness like this. Why people claim it to be "Too Final Fantasy" is beyond me. Everything about the game, save for a few enemy designs, is nonsensical in a way only Mario can be.

  • Perfect Control - A control scheme is usually just a tool to get the job done. You want to add this feature to the game, well, find a button for it. Mix and match after testing functionality and you will end up with a configuration that is largely usable. However, very rarely is a control scheme so finely woven into the capabilities of a game. You have a very limited palette on the GBA and Aria managed to take full advantage of this, by offering you a simple set of moves that allows you to do everything you would ever want to do in the game. Maybe it sounds like an overreaction, but when I play the game, everything feels so perfectly responsive. Which makes it that much funner to play.

  • Hideo Kojima - I could list of the usual high praise for the man, but those who give a rat's ass already know him. MGS is probably the most obvious pick on the list, from a objective standpoint. But my inclusion comes from something said on a podcast or in an article, experienced some time back, where it was claimed that the root reason why MGS is superior to its sequels is that no one had told Kojima that he was a genius yet. And I think that kind of nails it on the head. While Kojima is constantly trying to outdo himself in later titles with his name attached, they seem to be expected and somewhat forced. But the game that defined the stealth action genre in 3D was when Kojima's brilliance was all natural. Other than the Psycho Mantis fight, it was nothing really too out there even. Just using cigarettes to get past lasers, getting dogs to pee on your box to like you, Mei Ling sticking her tongue out at you if you call her enough times, being able to see Meryl in barely any clothing while she is in her cell, and Ocelot warning you against using Rapid Fire during the Torture scenes. All these things are classic Kojima, but were new experiences in the original MGS. They helped to make the game immensely interesting, even on subsequent playthroughs.

  • Shakespearean - I love Shakespeare, as cliche as that is. And I truly believe that FFT is the closest thing to a Shakespearean Tragedy as video games have come. There is betrayal and death throughout the game. It is a constant in this universe. I would love to explain my thoughts on this further, but my respect for the story and its themes prevents me from spoiling its intricacies that run ever so deep, even after a dozen years. I will say this though, if I ever was to write a serious essay on a game, I could easily, and gladly, write dozens of pages on the thematic undercurrents and darkly humane actions found in this one.

    I chose to include the PSP version of the game purely due to the severely enhanced translation. Most of my praise for this game has to do with my time with the PS1 original, but the PSP version is undeniably superior.

  • Dream Game - This is the pinnacle of Sonic. I don't see how the formula can be improved beyond this. As a platformer that was built around speed, this game's amazing level design struck the perfect balance between blazing speed and not killing yourself before you have time to react. This is largely due to the simple, yet effective boost and trick mechanic. Controlling your max speed allows you to go as fast as Sonic was always dreamed to go, but when you want him to, not when you are in the middle of a delicate jump from platform to platform over a bottomless chasm. Trying to beat your times and score on each stage due to the ability to actually pick your stage lengthens the experience far beyond the first playthrough, a shortcoming past sonic games didn't learn from. It's what Sonic was meant to be.

  • Never Ending - Many a Saturday was spent in front of the computer in my childhood, still in my pajamas from morning to bed, in front of this game. I can count the amount of times I actually finished a map on my fingers, but I always kept coming back, starting a new campaign, but this time rolling Necropolis with a Death Knight main hero and two Necromancer sub-heroes rather than my last try going with Dungeon and a super powered Warlock. The slate would be cleaned, the resources and castles fresh for the taking, and many AI opponents to outwit and outplay. Hours upon hours would be spent and the day would end. I would save my game, but the next time I would play, it would begin anew. And I was fine with that. As it meant my enjoyment never ended.

  • Cooperative Play - A game can beaten in a set number of hours. The predictability of its set pieces become obvious and the way to play the game is not a mystery anymore. You know how to beat a boss. You know which weapon to use. You know where to stand. But as soon as you start throwing in another human being in there, the whole thing never becomes quite as predictable. New strategies emerge. Conflicts between playstyles become apparent. And so much enjoyment is had .One of my favourite touches is the ability to continuously toss your friend into enemy fire and off of cliffs. It allows for a solid way to be an asshole to your partner, without having the game killing experience of friendly fire. In game of course. You can always be an ass in real life by punching the guy across the couch from you The true cooperative experience is married to the chesterfield and Gunstar Heroes is the ideal model of this.

  • Warm Fuzzy Feeling - The one game on the list that I cannot fully explain. But the warm, fuzzy feeling I get when playing the game sticks with me. It just is overwhelming with charm. From link's facial animations to the great character designs to the expressive environments and music. Or maybe it's just the, *gasp*, cel-shading. It does allow for a lot of the game's charm to ooze into even the smallest of things. Like the lip animation of a moblin or the way the light of the flowing lava illuminates a dungeon. Whatever it is, I like it.
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