Epic design director and industry cool guy Cliff Bleszinski recently commented on Quantic Dream’s ‘interactive drama’ Heavy Rain, the much-debated PS3 exclusive that released this February. The Unreal Tournament and Gears of War aficionado stated that he’s very much a fan of Heavy Rain, which in his mind has ‘birthed its own genre.’

From my own perspective, I absolutely see where he’s coming from with this statement. Despite most of Heavy Rain’s premise revolving around sombre storytelling and continuous quick time events, it’s certainly unlike a lot of other games on the market these days. Like any novel or film, it’s an experience that is wholly dependent on the player’s involvement within the narrative; and the unprecedented graphical detail of its world and characters is, for the most part, an entirely unique staple to uphold in modern games.

This ‘new’ genre Mr. Bleszinski is referring to is the same one that I used as a descriptor for the game in the first paragraph – ‘interactive drama.’ It’s become a widespread and accepted term for describing Heavy Rain, something which the developers clearly wanted to make viral. So much so that the very first trophy to be unlocked after starting a new game commends the player for ‘supporting interactive drama’ once they’ve completed the opening prologue.

Even though it may seem like I’m facing opposites with this notion, I’m really not. I support the idea and it makes sense to me since actually playing Heavy Rain for myself about a month ago. However, for me, the rub comes compounded with this entire theory of ‘interactive drama’ and just how monotonous I found Heavy Rain to be. Where I tend to agree with Bleskinski’s comments, however, lies in how aptly he chose describe his statement. It really is the ‘birth’ of a genre; and to that tend, if Heavy Rain is the first real attempt at an ‘interactive drama’ on consoles, then it is surely baby steps.

That’s not to say that story-specific adventures were non-existent before Quantic Dream head David Cage arrived on the scene, but there are arguably few comparative titles of the same ilk that have been subject to such development expenditure, intensive marketing and sheer anticipation ahead of its release.

To draw some sort of parallel, consider a series like Monkey Island, or many other similar traditional adventure games that enjoyed a period of popularity and renown back in their day. In regards to the common persona of many others adventure games, the Monkey Island games were (and are) often stylised in an animated and distinctly cartoon-like fashion; cleverly playing on the weaknesses of its era’s technological deficits, as well as successfully complimenting the comical tone of its narrative.

Heavy Rain is blatant antithesis to Monkey Island’s design approach, instead striving towards photo-realism and well-rendered environment detail. Its heavy-handed narrative lives and dies by this conceptual intention, as did the contextual puzzles in Monkey Island.

But, whilst these ambitions are lofty and now more achievable than ever, it was a resentful combination of both its most coveted bullet points that essentially failed to grip me in the way Cage so evidently wanted me to. I’m not lambasting the quality of its graphics, though – far form it. Heavy Rain is a truly beautiful game that really pushes the technical boundaries of the PlayStation 3.

My real point of contention in the graphical department comes in the presence of the expected – and equally disjointing – ‘uncanny valley’. It’s a term that plagues many modern games that try to simulate real-world detail, and in Heavy Rain it rears its head to causes noticeable eyebrow-raising moments from the game’s characters above all else.

As a result,I found the forceful emotional scenes falling from reach time and time again, as my personal investment in Heavy Rain’s inhabitants continued to plummet with every blank expression and instance of mis-matched lip syncing. To be fair, it is important to note that issues like poor lip syncing is a ubiquitous trend in many games, but its insufficiencies seem doubly as reproachable in Heavy Rain, as its sole purpose is to hook the player in with expressive character emotes and realistic dialogue interactions.

Since I’m on that topic, it’s worth clarifying my opinions of the voice acting: it’s bloody awful. Listening to the French accent slip through the cracks of supposedly American characters in the game is just as flinch-worthy as hearing the rest of the B-list voice actors ham their way through the story’s events. Detective Scott Shelby was probably the only character in the entire Heavy Rain universe that I actually gravitating towards in some meaningful way, but even he is a re-tread of an existing character from a barely decent thriller flick.

 Optional Side Ramble: Perhaps unsurprisingly, I also wasn’t a big fan of Fahrenheit/Indigo Prophecy. I loved the demo – the introductory scenario felt like a breath of fresh air and was genuinely involving. Be that as it may, further progession into the game failed to sustain my intrigue, as the story went to an incorrigible place; and the problems with player input became far beyond that of Heavy Rain’s. Plus, I found the characters to be crude and unlikeable. Playing guitar was mildly fun, though.

Despite my general dislike for Heavy Rain’s attempts at emulating cinematic flourish and twisting it into game form, complaints surrounding the tank-style control of characters didn’t actually bother me that much. Sure, it looks robotic and weird, but at that point I understand that I’m actually playing a game, so I expect some degree of mechnical flaw. By contrast, I just don’t have the same expectations for the cutscenes when the experience I’m playing is touted as ‘like a movie in videogame form.’ To that, I say this: it’s not like a movie in videogame form. If anything, it’s akin to any third rate novel available in the used section of a local library.

If the visions of creator David Cage consists of blurring the lines between narrative interactivity in games and conventional movie viewing, then it’s only fair to judge his game alongside that same medium which primarily focuses on storytelling as its main draw. In that regard, Heavy Rain falls flat on its face. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate its existence, however. The hitches with the uncanny valley will undoubtedly become less of an issue as time and technology advances; and it would be folly to suggest that Heavy Rain doesn’t raise the bar in graphical prowess. That said, I just don’t believe Quantic Dream is the studio that is capable of undertakng the task and coming out with outstanding results – specifically in the field of storyteling.

My pick? Rockstar.
 

The Halo: Reach beta has been in semi-full swing for a while now, with creators Bungie continuing to parcel out new game modes and slight adjustments to its multiplayer taste-tester on the fly. Even after sampling some its adverserial modes, I’m still not entirely sure what to expect from Reach when it releases as a full product later this year; largely due to the series’ last instalment, Halo 3: ODST, failing to leave much of a lasting impression.

It was a Halo game for sure, but kind of a bland one in my mind. Yeah, the additional weapons were neat and the atmospheric New Mombassa was an interesting setting to explore, but there was an inescapable ‘expansion pack’ quality that pervaded the majority of the campaign. That’s reasonable though, seeing as how it clearly stated ‘Halo 3′ in front of its cap-happy acronym.

But that’s one area where Reach strives to be truly different from its predecessors. Which so far, seems to be the case. In fact, the more time I spend playing the beta, the more I get the impression that Reach is shaping up to be something of a composition of all the Halo games before it (minus Halo Wars, of course).

For one thing, the zoomable magnum pistol from the original Combat Evolved game has essentially been re-birthed in Reach, albeit nerfed by comparison to its great grandaddy. Considering how it’s practically a mini rifle when shot with steady aim, the Reach pistol is a great secondary weapon to carry around for basically all occasions. It’s a little slow to react against automatic weapons, especially in tight corridors, but in the right hands it can be completely deadly.

Conventional health from the original Halo also returns, at least for Spartans. While Elite players can re-generate health fairly quickly, the protective Spartan shields that have existed since Halo 2 now need to be supplemented with health packs. Not picking up these health packs when hurt can leave you even more vulnerable later on down the road, so it serves as good logic to learn their placements on the maps for when such an undesirable situation occurs.

Optional Side Ramble: A similar system was also implemented in ODST’s campaign; although the supposed burden of being an inferior soldier fighting against the Covenant’s onslaught failed to drastically change the way encounters were approached, coming off as some disingenuous marketing blurb instead. If anything, The Recruit simply felt like playing a downgraded version of the current Master Chief, which I don’t think was supposed to be summed-up in such a negative slant. Anyway, I’ll lay off ODST from now on.

Despite being nothing new to the series, weapons like the generic assault rifle and Covenant energy sword yield a presence in Reach that feels like a blend of the familar with the new. Thinking about it, that’s a strange notion to consider, because both iterations of those weapons made unremarkable comebacks in Halo 3. But here, they exist as a part of a much larger ecosystem and serve their own respective purposes in notably different ways.

For instance, the fact Elites can get to a target much quicker by rolling in different directions means that a player-controlled Elite with a sword can be just as frightening to come across as it was in CE’s campaign. Another new viable yet unforgiving appendage the existing Halo body of moves is the chance to block an incoming sword lunge with a well-timed melee hit. While it will certainly remain to be a difficult practice to master in Halo: Reach proper, this addition seems like a welcome mode of defense that I probably would’ve felt compelled to master back in the Halo 2 days if it had been available.

Another eminent bullet point on the list of old mechanics Reach grabs from the Halo cookie jar is fall damage, which adds an element of consideration to the mix when careening off tall ledges whilst trying to hunt other players down. Except for in staggeringly high spots like in the map terribly-namd Swordbase however, there is actually little chance you’ll die from fall damage, and you can even crouch at the last minute of impact with the ground to avoid getting a sprained ankle altogether.

One source of ailment for such gravitational consequences however is the new jetpack armour ability. Of all the new armour abilities, jetpacking is absolutely my most favoured. Being partially invisible for a short period is fine, but strategic crouching will keep you off the radar for sneaky kills, and the radar disorientation is especially useless when it screws up your own. Armour lock is fine too, but from my time using it there’s always that biting point where I know its use is going to deplete and as a result, I’m inevitably going to be barraged with pre-emptive grenades courtesy of the opposition.

Conversely, the abiltity to sprint is fine as well, but I personally suffer from the Call of Duty syndrome where eratically running forward eventually leads me into the butt of someone’s gun, at which point the animation is unable to re-assert itself in time to let me smack the guy back. It’s a matter of seconds, yes, but they’re vital seconds all the same. That’s why I’m digging the jetpack so far. Halo multiplayer maps often feature design with a strong sense of verticality in mind, which is where having a jetpack to avoid getting massacred by someone from above becomes a less infuriating scenario to contend with.

It’s certainly not a perfect method of survival, but it’s one that suits my play style. Ultimately, that’s something of a cool commendation, mainly because I continually bare witness to players online using abilities like armour lock to dominate a game of Capture the Flag, which is something I can’t currently do as well. Sprint can also make life much easier during awesome new gametype Headhunter, where finding the fastest and least fatal path to a coveted mass of skulls is nigh on essential for victory.

Speaking of new gametypes (and modes, for the sake of foreshadowing), team-based Stockpile is a very balanced and enjoyable new entry, mixing CTF with Territories and forcing them to mate in some tumultuous love affair. From my experience, it seems like the most tactile and active team of the two is always the winner. That’s somewhat of an obvious claim to make, but it resembles how well balanced most of my games in Stockpile have been thus far.

The team that treats Stockpile like Team Slayer will surely be left far behind on the scoreboard, which is exactly the kind of balance it needs to strike. If you’re not trying to collect flags 100% of the time, you better make sure you’re picking up weapons and shot-gunning with the brave fella that is. Invasion is fun too, but Big Team Battle was never really my thing, if you see what I’m saying.

Plus, vehicles in that mode seem inexplicably useless half the time. One of my big complaints so far in the Reach beta is that none of the available vehicles really give you any tangible sense of how well suited they are to a hectic battle. In the days of Halo 2, a Wraith was a beast, but a tameable beast nonetheless. Here, it feels substantially weaker, which is either a stroke of balance genius or a discomforting nerfing of something that needs to attract the attention of everyone who may fall victim to its heavy-handed purple-ness. Personally, I’m going for the latter.

To that end, Invasion as a whole also pertains to the school of imbalance as it currently stands, with Elites having it pretty rough against opposing DRMs and perched snipers at the last base. The roll move is hilariously fun to watch and perform on Invasion’s large scale map though, moulding the Elites into a fearful tower of ‘wort’, just like a menacing race of  theocratic aliens should be.

I haven’t messed around too much with the customisable stuff, purely because it seems considerably lame; plus the credit system doesn’t seem too different from any other unlockable system in other adverserial games. That’s not to say I wish it had perks ala Modern Warfare 2: the armour abilities provide a venue for that, one that hopefully ends up being more balanced in the long run.

But somehow, unlocking a new arm aesthetic isn’t a proposition I’m particularly dying to see fulfilled. And as much as I appreciate the general artistic design of the Halo series, I can’t help but look at my Spartan in the post-game report and think he looks like a cheap kids toy, complete with that ‘still in packaging’ pose of heroism. As a side-note, I also still love the Theater mode. Without a doubt, it needs to be developed into more games of this nature. That way I can perpetually giggle at replays of flailing ragdolls in all of my games, which is a wonderful thing to envision.

Minor quibbles aside, I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve sunk into the Halo: Reach beta. Above all else, I’m glad to find it has re-surged my interest in a Halo game, and not just the multiplayer component. All that remains to be done now (besides, y’know, making the rest of the game) is to include a mode featuring a playable Grunt, just like the monkeys in TimeSplitters 2 multiplayer. Until that dream becomes a reality, the folks at Washingston are alienating millions of Grunt-starved Halo fans. Do what must be done, Bungie!

ARTICLE | Rapturous Verbatim: Defending BioShock 2

After a good dozen-or-so hours of intense face-drilling and constant DNA abuse, my second journey through the annals of Andrew Ryan’s dilapidated Rapture has finally come to a conclusion. Let me preface all this by saying that I found the experience to be very enjoyable. The action felt more pronounced, thanks to tuned shooting mechanics and some smart location-based set-pieces. Whilst not to the calibre of the city’s creator, nor the villainous Frank Fontaine, added characters such as Sofia Lamb and Augustus Sinclair were likeable enough, adding to Rapture’s general mythos. And even if it’s not entirely ‘new’, the moody and harrowing atmosphere of a broken down underwater upotia is still a pleasurable if endlessly ominous setting to explore.

Okay, I admit, the story was a little less interesting by comparison to the first game’s unexpected plot-twist revelations, but being able to learn more about the societal failings of such a fascinating virtual inhabitance kept me engaged regardless. Honestly, how often do you say that whilst playing any number of rote action games on the market these days?
 

With all that said, as the game’s release came closer and closer, that hype-induced sense of insufferable waiting and bowel-spewing excitement that comes parceled with most big-name titles never came to fruition for me with BioShock 2. My feelings of ambivalence prior to playing were never based on any disapproval of the sequel’s existence, but more of mere ignorance regarding what to expect from a sequel to such a well thought-out and insular single-player adventure.

 
Two and a half years later, however, and in the face of staunch defiance, BioShock 2 has released to favourable critical appraisal; and it looks like much of the previously indignant are enjoying it, too. Rewind a few months back and the story was significantly different. Admittedly, this was largely because there were several points of contention stacked against the game’s favour:

• The original BioShock is heralded as one of most rich and unique gaming experiences of the last decade. That’s quite a legacy to live up to. This is especially the case when the majority of the game’s fans agreed that its focused narrative structure deserved to be left alone in singularity; untouched by any money-driven intentions the publisher may have (even though we all know that, naturally, business companies of all kinds like to stack their cheese the best ways they can).
• A delay of a few months, pushing it from late 2009 to early 2010, caused raise for concern. Not too long of a split in the grand scheme of things, but seemingly long enough to instil greater doubt in the minds of the already-dubious.
• As time went on, it was revealed that multiple developers at different 2K studios were working on the project…
• …as well a separate developer working on – gasp – a multiplayer component.
• And finally, Ken Levine – the creative powerhouse behind BioShock – stated that he would have absolutely no involvement with the sequel’s development, conceptually or otherwise.

Whether you individually think these reasons for lambasting 2K are justified or not, it was incredibly interesting to observe the fiercely negative mentality behind those who actively disavowed the game’s right to even exist. This stance was built on both the substantial critical and fan acclaim that the original enjoyed back in 2007, something that I’m pretty sure 2K Marin (and the seventeen other developers who worked on the game) were very much aware of.

Of all these bullet points, let me just say as a footnote that I cannot subjectively provide insight into the quality of the game’s multiplayer modes, simply because I am currently incapable of getting my console online to check it out. I’ve heard good things about it, but it’s best I ignore the debate altogether.

What I can say quite definitively is that BioShock 2 is a single-player experience worth playing. It builds on the world that the original established with suitable stories of intrigue patched into the framework that tied together the first game’s events, even if they are not as memorable here. The same can also be said for the setting of Rapture itself – it isn’t as wondrous and bewildering of a place to step into the second time round, but why would it be? If you’ve played the original, you’ve been there before and you’re aware of what challenges inhibit Rapture’s remains (with some exception).

BioShock 2 features moments of pure analogue intensity that the first game’s poorer aspects failed to delivery in a totally satisfactory way. This is clearly a good thing, because after all, it’s not as if the original was a point-and-click adventure game or something other than an FPS at its core, irrospective of how good or bad of an FPS it was. Being resourceful with EVE and applying a viable strategy with available plasmids was something you always had to do before, and it was all under the applications of a shooter.

As a result, the most noticable difference with the sequel manifests in the refinement of the shooting and plasmid action. To that end, the weapons still don’t have the pin-point accuracy of say, Modern Warfare 2, but that’s not drawing negatives by any stretch of the imagination. The pacing is still slow yet frantic, retaining the awesome one-two punch of plasmids and heavy weaponry (that can now be used in tandem), as well as the tactile methods needed to make progress. Ignoring deficits like the over-powered wrench, combining powers in inventive ways was a successful and fun approach to playing BioShock, and that’s a notion empowered to greater extent by the sequel’s mechanical improvements.

Although, seeing as how BioShock’s most lauded dinstinciton wasn’t its shooiting mechanics, why should you return if the more revered parts of the original – like its narrative and characters – aren’t as interesting? Simply because Rapture is still a uniquely sheltered and dense environment to roam around in that deserves your attention as a BioShock fan. It probably won’t re-birth that familiar feeling of awe at a new surrounding; nor the unabated compulsion to unravel the mystery that lies ahead, but I never felt like that was BioShock 2’s intent.

Not only that, but the atmosphere is still absolutely dead-on. The menacing presence of a Big Daddy plodding through the halls of Rapture’s elegant art deco wreckage is still fantastically terrifying. Even playing as a Bid Daddy prototype, I still felt so low down on the low chain that fighting to adopt my first Little Sister felt absorbing to a point where it still felt like nothing I have played recently. Encountering the sight of this dominant protector transition from slow and docile to quick and aggressive at the zap of a plasmid remains to be one of the most visually impressive enemy creations I’ve seen in a game. Even now, just hearing a Big Daddy’s echoing groan from the next room is as effective at being frightening as it is making you openly blurt out, “Holy shit, that’s cool.”

So call it a sequel, call it a ’side-story’ – call it whatever you want.  For me, BioShock 2 is a worthy successor that provided enough incentive to reach this chapter's finale and enjoy my time getting there. If Rapture was a place you enjoyed fighting through before, then there is little reason why you won’t like this game on some level. Hell, I’m enticed enough to see yet another installment in 2K’s striking universe. But, whether that third visit should continue amongst the ruins of Rapture as the crumbled city we know is difficult to say.