How to Cheat in Spec Ops: The Line

Why Cheat?: A Quick Review of My Experience with a Not-Completely-Awful Game

I don't usually play military first-person shooters, let alone cover-based shooters like Spec Ops: The Line. But I got it for $1.00 (along with Duke Nukem Forever and The Darkness II) from Humble 2K Bundle 2, and... it wasn't that bad, at least on the default difficulty setting. I suppose it's precisely because I don't usually play this type of game that I didn't just see Spec Ops: The Line's cover-based shooting mechanics as an inferior version of what you would find in, say, a Gears of War game. For me, it was something different, and I enjoyed it, even though it was occasionally frustrating. Having gotten to the end of my first play-through, I could see myself playing it more, and none of the achievements seemed particularly hard to unlock, so I decided to play through the game a couple more times to go for 100% completion.

It was only at the point where I had unlocked all but one of the game's achievements — the one for beating the game on the hardest difficulty setting, FUBAR — that I realized how anti-fun the game could be. So I dropped it for a while. But after a few years of seeing 49/50 on the game's achievement tracker, it began to bother me.

The thing about me and achievements is that, while I'll make some effort to unlock them if they actually happen to be fun to unlock, I don't really care a whole lot about them otherwise... except in that they annoy me when they serve as a reminder of what's almost finished. In other words, while I don't normally treat a game with achievements as a tedious "to-do" list, 98% complete is just irritating.

So eventually, I did go back to the game and try to beat FUBAR mode, thinking it just couldn't be as bad as I remembered. But it was worse than I remembered. It was an enjoyable challenge for a while, and I actually got all the way to chapter 11 out of 15, but after a certain point, I couldn't play for more than 30 minutes at a time without getting annoyed. I wasn't enjoying it anymore, and while there were occasional moments of satisfaction in which I was able to pass a checkpoint by figuring out some optimal strategy and executing it perfectly, these moments were outnumbered by all the times when having gotten through a tough fight seemed like blind luck. The game's FUBAR difficulty setting isn't just unreasonable at times; it's also where the inherent flaws in the game's design really shine.

When one isn't having fun with a game anymore, does it make sense to keep playing just for an achievement? Not really. Not when nobody else is ever going to see or care about that achievement. When a game isn't fun anymore, the rational choice is either to drop it or to make it fun. I had begun to wonder if there was a way to cheat my way through the last bit of the game, as venting my frustration by breaking the game in some amusing way might make up for what felt like a waste of time so far. Turning that 49/50 into a 50/50 (so that even my undiagnosed OCD could accept that I'm done with the game) without having to subject myself to any more of this sadistic FUBAR nonsense would be nice too.

That's when I realized that the game's configuration files, which are encrypted in the Windows version on which I did the first half of my FUBAR play-through, are human-readable plaintext in the Linux version on which I continued the game after the termination of Windows 7 support gave me the final push towards using Linux for almost everything.

How To Cheat, The Easy Way: Step One Is To Install Linux (Which You Should Do Anyway Unless You Really Love Windows 10)

Install the Linux version of the game using the Linux version of the Steam client, and go to

~/.steam/steam/steamapps/common/SpecOps_TheLine/SRGame/Config

and you'll find a bunch of .ini files — 94 of them, by my count — and a single .txt file. I haven't fully explored the contents of these configuration files, because some of them are rather large, and there are too many of them to summarize here even if I had looked at them all. However, a quick browse through a few of them suggests that they contain variables for almost all the numerical and Boolean values one might want to alter, such as: player health, health regeneration rate, enemy health, the amount of damage required to explode enemies' heads, weapon damage, amount of ammo each weapon gets from ammo boxes, et cetera.

Some files have multiple variations. For example, the files

SRPawnEasy.ini
SRPawnEasy_Coop.ini
SRPawn.ini
SRPawn_Coop.ini
SRPawnHard.ini
SRPawnHard_Coop.ini
SRPawnInsane.ini
SRPawnInsane_Coop.ini

all contain values like character health. The ones with the "Coop" suffix obviously apply to the game's cooperative multiplayer mode, while the files marked "Easy", "Hard", and "Insane" presumably apply to the the game's "Walk on the Beach", "Suicide Mission", and "FUBAR" difficulty modes, respectively. I assume the "Combat Op" difficulty (which lies between "Walk on the Beach" and "Suicide Mission") is considered the default setting, so it probably just uses the values from SRPawn.ini (or SRPawn_Coop.ini for cooperative mode). Furthermore, I assume other difficulty modes will also fall back on SRPawn.ini for values which don't appear in their specific files, as SRPawn.ini has many more lines than the other variations.

I'm making some educated guesses here, because I haven't actually tried editing each of these files individually to confirm that the effects are what we might reasonably expect based on their names and contents. However, I did try editing the file SRPawnInsane.ini with the intent of modifying FUBAR mode. I started by modifying the health values of the player character, Walker, and his two squad mates, Lugo and Adams. This is just a matter of finding the right m_defaultHealth values. There are several m_defaultHealth lines, each appearing in a separate section indicating which character's default health level is being modified. Here's a snippet of SRPawnInsane.ini:

[SRGame.YPawn_Walker]
m_defaultHealth=60.0

[SRGame.YGamePawn_Player]
m_damageModifierExecuting=0.3
m_damageModifierReviving=0.3

[SRGame.YPawn_Lugo]
m_defaultHealth=220.0

[SRGame.YPawn_Adams]
m_defaultHealth=220.0

[SRGame.YPawn_AdamsAlone]

[SRGame.YPawn_Enemy]
m_defaultHealth=155.0
m_chanceToGrantGrenadeToExecutor=0.2
m_vaporizeModifier=3.56
m_headExplodeModifier=1.52

When I found this, I vastly increased the m_defaultHealth values found under [SRGame.YPawn_Walker], [SRGame.YPawn_Lugo], and [SRGame.YPawn_Adams]. I was unsure if it would actually work, but when I started up the game and continued my FUBAR mode campaign, it was clear that the player character and his squad mates were all practically invincible. It seemed too easy but it actually worked.

There are a few other things to note in the snippet above:

• The [SRGame.YGamePawn_Player] section has a couple of damage modifier values; based on the names, I assume these will alter the amount of damage which the player will take while performing execution moves on enemies and reviving squad mates. However, I haven't tried changing these yet, so I don't know whether they are positive or negative modifiers. Does setting them to 0.0 mean the player takes full damage or that the player takes no damage? Presumably it's one or the other. Either way, setting them to 1.0 probably does the opposite of whatever setting them to 0.0 does, because the fact that each value is currently set to 0.3 suggests that these are fractions of the normal amount of damage.
• The [SRGame.YPawn_AdamsAlone] section in SRPawnInsane.ini is, in fact, empty. However, it's not empty in SRPawn.ini or SRPawnEasy.ini. In each of those files, this section contains another m_defaultHealth line, so it's safe to assume that we can add one here as well, if we want to. When placed in this section, m_defaultHealth probably modifies the amount of health that Adams has during a sequence in which he is separated from the player.
• The [SRGame.YPawn_Enemy] section contains some very specific modifiers; you can probably guess what they do based on the names. The file SRPawn.ini has even more values, any of which could most likely be modified here in SRPawnInsane.ini as well. The section name might be a bit misleading, though, as it seems to pertain only to one type of enemy. There are other sections called [SRGame.YPawn_MediumEnemy], [SRGame.YPawn_EnemyMarauder], [SRGame.YPawn_EnemyElite], and so on.

I'm just trying to give you an idea of what can be done with these configuration files. As noted above, some of the .ini files are rather large, so I'm probably just scratching the surface of what can be modified here. I haven't tried making substantial modifications myself — but it looks like you could, in theory, fine-tune many aspects of the game to be exactly how you want them. If you don't like the fact that the player can take damage while reviving squad mates, change it. If you don't like the amount of health that a particular enemy has, change it. If you want enemies' heads to explode with every headshot from any weapon, you can probably make it happen. Whether anyone cares enough about this game to do any of this, however, is another matter entirely.

I only went as far as modifying the health of Walker, Lugo, and Adams — adding a few zeroes to each number, before the decimal of course — and the rest of the FUBAR campaign was a hilarious joke. I got to the end in a tiny fraction of the time it would have taken if I had played the game fairly, and it's probably the only way I would have been willing to get to the end, as my patience had run out. And, for the record, this did unlock the achievement for finishing the game on FUBAR difficulty. Modifying these configuration files does not disable achievements.

Therefore, those of you who actually take achievements seriously as an indicator of your skill level, or something, might want to avoid playing with these configuration files while doing anything which might unlock an achievement. Personally, as noted above, I don't really care — but I can understand how others might regret unlocking a tough achievement by cheating. If you're the kind of person who takes pride in achievements, unlocking one by modifying the game might leave a bad taste in your mouth.

The Case For More Games Being This Easy To Exploit

The encrypted configuration files used by the Windows version of the game actually can be decrypted, but I can't personally vouch for the tool used to do so. I didn't bother with it when I played the Windows version of the game, because I didn't want to cheat at this game badly enough to put up with the extra steps, let alone the mysterious executable. (I trust it a bit more now that I've found it on PC Gaming Wiki, but when I first became aware of the decryption tool, it was through a link on some random forum.)

The fact that the files are not encrypted in the Linux version of the game is probably an oversight — or maybe they just didn't care, or maybe they figured Linux users would find out how to break into the files anyway, or maybe they already knew about the decryption tool for the Windows version by the time they made the Linux version so they decided decryption was pointless. In any case, the fact that the files are encrypted in the Windows version is a clear indication that players were not meant to mess with these files.

But why not?

Cheating in multiplayer games is not okay, because it spoils the experience for other players, hence the existence of anti-cheat measures in multiplayer games. When it comes to single-player games, though, I don't see why we shouldn't be able to do whatever we want with a game that we bought. Many single-player games are made to be (or just are) easily modifiable; Skyrim, for example, is famous for community-made mods. Other single-player games, however, are made to be (or just are) very difficult to modify, as the Windows version of Spec Ops: The Line would be if nobody had figured out how to decrypt its files.

It's almost a shame that a game like Spec Ops: The Line, which is considered by many to be thoroughly mediocre, happens to be one of the games in which so much of the configuration is exposed to players through plaintext or easily decrypted files. A lot of games expose graphical settings not found in-game via configuration files, but in my experience, the ability to change the gameplay this way is rare. I wish I could so easily make similar modifications to games like Alan Wake, not because they're hard and I need to cheat, but because it would be fun. I'd actually like to make Alan Wake harder. Unfortunately, it's not an easily modifiable game.

Achievements are a possible reason that a game's developers might not want players to have unmitigated access to configuration values like player health. Some people take achievements seriously, especially rare achievements which are difficult to unlock; the perceived value of such an achievement, for players able to unlock it through skill and perseverance, is lessened when someone like me unapologetically cheats to unlock it by modifying configuration values.

But just as developers can program a game to disable achievements when built-in cheat codes are activated, they could also program a game to disable achievements when some deliberately exposed configuration file differs from the intended defaults, as verified by a checksum or whatever. I guess I'm advocating for games to offer the same level of easy modification as Spec Ops: The Line, if not more, but on purpose instead of by accident.

Some developers release powerful tools for modding their games, which is great. Changing a configuration file is also great, though, especially for players who aren't going to bother learning how to use whatever modding tools exist. My philosophy as a software developer is that hard-coding arbitrary numbers is bad and everything which reasonably could be configurable should be configurable, and maybe that's far easier said than done when it comes to games — I'm a software developer, not a game developer — but I have a feeling that most games hide configuration from players on purpose, and doing this just to prevent a human from cheating against a computer is silly. The ability to cheat is not going to ruin a game for anyone with any self-control.

I'm also a big fan of games having plaintext save files, for similar reasons. I've played a few, and although I've rarely bothered to skip ahead or otherwise cheat by editing their save files, knowing that I had the option was nice. Save editing is probably hard to detect, so I don't expect it from games whose developers want achievements to mean something — but as with all forms of unintended cheating, my selfish take on the subject is that I should be able to cheat to unlock achievements, and also, deal with it.

Sorry for making the global achievement statistics for Spec Ops: The Line slightly less accurate though, I guess.

The Sad State of This Blog Nobody Reads

Recently, I was playing video games, and I remembered that I have a blog about video games. I went online to check if it was still here, and sure enough, it's right here where I left it.

It seems that my most recent post was nearly two years ago, when I wrote about Alan Wake being removed from online stores in May 2017. The game went back on sale in October 2018, so my blog has been inactive for five months longer than the game's music license negotiations kept it off the digital shelves. Perhaps a more horrific indicator of this blog's absolute state of decay is that the last post was written before I was even married and, as of this post, I'll soon be a father. I also turned 30 years old.

On that note, perhaps there's no point in pretending this blog isn't completely and utterly dead. With a baby on the way and death by old age rapidly approaching, will I ever have time to play video games again, let alone write about them? But wait. Here's a better question: Even if I had all the time in the world and posted five times a week, would anyone read it? Of course not! This blog can't be dead, because it was never alive. Most of my page views probably come from Google's web crawler bots. And besides, who reads blogs anymore? That's right, nobody! It's all about podcasts and videos. Nobody reads words in <current year> — and so, as I can be sure that nobody will ever read this blog, I am free to write about my manchildish love for video games without fear of being judged by society.

So I guess what I'm trying to convey with this meandering clusterhump of a blog post is that, despite logic and reason, I'm going to start using this blog again instead of deleting it.

Alan Wake To Be Pulled From Stores

I don't often have an opportunity to mention on this blog that the music industry is awful. Well, an opportunity has presented itself, so here it goes: The music industry is awful.

Two days from now, Alan Wake will be removed from stores, because the licenses for music used in the game are expiring. People who already bought the game should not panic; it's highly unlikely that already-purchased copies will be taken away from customers in the near future, and I've seen no evidence that software updates will be removing any content from those existing copies. If you bought the game on Steam, for example, it will remain intact in your Steam library, likely for as long as Steam exists. Furthermore, the semi-canon sequel/spinoff Alan Wake's American Nightmare will remain in stores, so there's no rush to buy it. However, if you still haven't played the original Alan Wake, your time to purchase a legal copy of the game is running out.

In the meantime, it's 90% off (from $29.99 to $2.99):

Alan Wake sale on @steam_games 90% discount starting 5/13. Game will be removed from stores after 5/15 due to expiring music licenses. pic.twitter.com/y10DPgY8Q0

— Remedy Entertainment (@remedygames) May 12, 2017

I should clarify that Steam is not the only store with a 90% discount on Alan Wake. The tweet above mentions only the Steam store because, as explained in another tweet, it's the only store on which developer Remedy Entertainment can control the pricing of the game. However, other stores want to compete, and other stores also want to sell as many copies of Alan Wake as possible before they are no longer allowed to sell it.

I don't have time to check every online retailer, but I've personally checked two other great stores, GOG.com and The Humble Store, and both of them also have a 90% discount on Alan Wake. Furthermore, both of these stores are arguably better than Steam, because they both offer DRM-free copies. The Steam version (last time I checked) will launch only through the Steam client.

Another difference between the stores is that GOG.com and The Humble Store both have a 90% discount on American Nightmare (from $9.99 to $0.99), while the Steam store still has the game at full price (seemingly by accident) and won't be offering an equivalent 90% discount on American Nightmare until tomorrow. All three stores, however, already have a 90% discount on the series as a whole, so if you buy the Alan Wake Franchise pack on Steam (which is discounted from $39.99 to $3.99), you're effectively getting the 90% discount on American Nightmare as well. I can't strongly recommend American Nightmare, anyway, as my feelings about the game are mixed, but if you're intent on buying it, now is probably a good time.

I can't say this is the best time to buy either of the Alan Wake games, because they were once featured in a name-your-own-price Humble Bundle, which means smart shoppers could have acquired DRM-free copies of both games for only a few cents. But, without a time machine, the current deal is likely the best you'll ever see... unless, of course, you opt for piracy instead and download the game for free, which will be the only option after the game disappears from stores on May 15th.

Regarding piracy, there are times when it is morally (if not legally) justifiable. I went into detail about the pricing, in the paragraphs above, as a public service to those who wish to acquire a legal copy while they can. However, don't think I'm trying to convince you to spend money on the game. Two days from now, it will essentially be abandonware. I'm generally against piracy, but if a game cannot be acquired legally then I think piracy is not only harmless but also necessary for the historical preservation of the game in question. If the publisher doesn't want to sell it, you should not feel obligated to pay for it. The licensed music in the game is certainly not abandonware, but I have no sympathy for the music industry, so I honestly don't care. Nobody who illegally downloads Alan Wake will be doing so just for the music.

In any case, whether you pay for the game or not, I do recommend playing it. The ending is a bit of a cliffhanger, though, which is more frustrating now than ever before, because this latest turn of events does not bode well for the anticipated sequel. I'm sure Remedy would like to continue the series someday, but it's probably not happening anytime soon if they can't even afford to keep the first game in digital stores. If I'm wrong and an Alan Wake 2 is in the works, they probably shouldn't release it while legally downloading the original game is impossible, because newcomers to the series might be less likely to buy the sequel if they can't easily play the original game first.

Fortunately, the current state of affairs is not necessarily permanent. If a proper sequel to Alan Wake is ever finished, I suspect they'll renew the music license at that time (or, if we're less lucky, they'll release an edited version with offending music removed). On the other hand, if the franchise has truly been laid to rest and plans for a sequel are permanently shelved, it might be a long time before any more copies of the original are sold. I doubt that Microsoft cares much about the franchise — they never did — so they'll probably be content to sit on the publishing rights while doing nothing with them for years to come.

Interactive Fiction

Whenever I write about a topic I've already covered, I'm in fear of accidentally contradicting myself. My thoughts and feelings change over time, and this is perfectly natural, but each finished piece of writing is static (unless and until I feel compelled to go through the trouble of changing it). Each and every post on this blog is a frozen snapshot of my thoughts and feelings at a particular time, and all of those snapshots are displayed simultaneously in the same place. When I do change my mind, and if I don't have the time or the patience to eradicate my outdated thoughts from wherever they were written, it might just look like I'm saying two different things at once.

For example, I might have been too kind to a certain piece of interactive fiction in this post about games as art. I dismissed the criticism that Dear Esther was bad for its lack of gameplay because it's not a game and therefore should not be judged as a game. Dear Esther, I wrote, should be judged instead as a piece of interactive fiction or as a work of art. A direct quote from the other post: "A valid criticism of Dear Esther should focus on what's there — the writing, the visuals, and the music — rather than obsessing over exactly how it's not a game." Even now, I stand by all of these claims about how Dear Esther should be judged, but if I ever implied that Dear Esther comes up smelling like roses when judged in this manner, I'm about to disagree with my former self.

The writing, the visuals, and the music in Dear Esther are all fine. The lack of traditional gameplay elements is also fine. The lack of meaningful interactivity of any kind, however, is less so. Dear Esther is a walk through a virtual landscape set to music and narration, and the act of walking (but nothing else) is left to the player. The experience is interactive in the sense that the player can choose where to walk and where to look within the confines of Dear Esther's explorable space; the problem is that those confines are limiting to the point where the interactivity becomes nothing but a nuisance.

The player can move freely, but aside from a few wide open areas and a couple of briefly diverging paths, there's only one way to go from the beginning to the end. The game has no real exploration, and the player's actions have no real effect on the story. The experience is essentially linear, and yet the player is forced to interact; one cannot get to the end without walking there, a tedious and potentially frustrating task when there's hardly anything to do along the way. Dear Esther might even be better if it would just play itself.

It's a common problem in story-driven games, so-called interactive fiction, and everything in between. The story is there, and the player input is there, but the potential for truly interactive fiction is lost when the player is unable to affect the narrative. If the story is the most important aspect of a product which insists on being interactive, shouldn't the story itself be interactive? It's no surprise that a truly interactive story is a rarity in the typical video game, which is gameplay-driven and includes a story only as a contextual backdrop no matter how obnoxiously that story shoves itself down the player's throat during unskippable cutscenes, but developers should take more care when adding game elements to a story instead of the reverse.

A couple of weeks ago, I played To the Moon, which tells a nice (albeit awkwardly written) story and contains more than enough gameplay to be considered a game. Unfortunately, while it clearly strives to be interactive fiction first and foremost, the interactivity and the fiction do not blend well. The only genuine gameplay consists of occasional puzzles and a few brief mini-games, while the bulk of the player's time is spent alternating between reading dialogue and making sure to click on all the clickable objects in a given area. The game is so heavy with dialogue and so short on meaningful player input that, per click or keystroke, the majority of one's interaction with the game consists of telling the game to continue to the next line of dialogue. Yet, for all this time spent manually moving through the story — I used the word "tedious" in reference to Dear Esther's walking and I think it applies here as well — there's no real interaction with the story itself. The ending is always the same. Player choices sometimes have an effect on a few lines of dialogue, but that's all.

I get it. The developers wanted to tell a very specific story. Not every story will have branching paths and multiple outcomes. However, if the story is to remain static and immutable, two things need to happen. First, the player needs to be able to step away from the story long enough to have a satisfying amount of control over something. For To the Moon, this would mean a lot more puzzles and mini-games, or perhaps a totally new gameplay element. Second, the player needs to be able to sit back and watch when no meaningful input is required. This would turn Dear Esther into a movie, but I guess that's the whole problem with Dear Esther.

My examples so far are pretty extreme, but the problems in Dear Esther and To the Moon are things that all story-driven games need to avoid, and not all of them do a very good job. In my old post on Alan Wake, I mentioned the frustration of needing to follow a character around or simply idle about while listening to dialogue and waiting for the next scripted event. The same thing happens in Half-Life 2, thanks to the developers' decision to forgo cutscenes for the sake of having everything (including story exposition) happen in real-time. Alan Wake and Half-Life 2 both have plenty of gameplay to keep the player entertained, but the occasional need to sit through real-time in-gameplay dialogue always left me wishing that a skippable cutscene were used instead, especially when continual but meaningless player input was required (e.g., when following another character down a linear path).

I'm actually beginning to think that the hybridization of gameplay mechanics with interactive fiction is a failed experiment, and that the game industry should stop insisting on doing it over and over again. Games with excellent gameplay don't need mediocre stories tacked on in the form of unskippable in-game sit-around-and-listen-to-people-talk scenes from which the player cannot walk away. Meanwhile, the "interactive" requirement of an interactive story cannot be adequately satisfied with badly implemented gameplay mechanics, like mini-games and puzzles that occur with the frequency of a cutscene in a traditional game.

You want to make a shooter? Don't annoy the shooter fans with superfluous dialogue and scripted action sequences. You want to make an interactive story? Don't force your customers to play through stupid shooting sections. Am I wrong? I mean, clearly, there's an acceptable balance somewhere, but not many developers find it. Why can't the video game and the interactive story be two distinct things, each with no obligation to step on the other's turf? I guess it's because mashing the two things together broadens the target demographic. Shooter fans buy it for the gunplay, people who like interactive fiction buy it for the role-playing aspects or the built-in dating simulator, and everyone is just barely happy enough to keep playing.

Or maybe it's because interactive fiction just hasn't matured enough to stand on its own without being shoehorned into a traditional game or having a traditional game shoehorned into it. After all, a sufficiently interactive story is probably hard to write. Giving the player a satisfying amount of control within a well structured story sounds pretty difficult, if we assume the player's control must be over some aspect of the story itself.

Perhaps most disappointing of all are games which seem to be built on the premise of a player-controlled branching storyline but end up being almost entirely linear anyway. Playing through the first season of Telltale's The Walking Dead was a great experience, but a lot of the magic was gone when I realized after the fact that the ending I got was the only ending. Player choices determine which characters live or die and, to some extent, the characters' feelings about each other, but the protagonist and his group go to the same places and do the same things regardless. Ultimately, the only thing that changes, as a result of character deaths and the relationships between those who remain, is the dialogue.

Obviously, not every game needs multiple endings in order to have a satisfying story. However, in The Walking Dead, the player's ability to shape the story by making (often binary) decisions is the primary mode of gameplay. The rest is just occasional puzzles, and some shooting sequences which could rightly be called mini-games. When gameplay consists almost entirely of manipulation of the game's story through dialogue and moral choices, the ability to manipulate the story in a substantial and meaningful way is pretty important. The Walking Dead provides more illusion of choice than actual choice... but I guess I wouldn't have known if I'd only played once and never looked back.

Unskippable Cutscenes & Other Pure Evil

I often say that if a single-player video game isn't worth playing twice then it's not worth playing at all. That might be a slight exaggeration — surely "game worth playing exactly once" does lie somewhere between "game worth playing twice" and "game worth uninstalling" — but honestly, if I get to the end of a game and I don't want to do it again, it probably wasn't very fun. In my opinion, one should be able to enjoy a game multiple times, twice being the bare minimum.

Surely, some people will disagree, and their counterargument will most likely go something like this: "After the first time, you already know how it ends!" Well, yeah, it ends with me winning. If your experience with a game is spoiled because you already know the end of an underlying story, which probably exists only to provide context to some otherwise meaningless depictions of violence, the game isn't a very good one. It's supposed to be a game, after all, not a movie. Do I like story-driven games? Sure. But a game needs to be fun for reasons other than its plot twists. Otherwise, it should have been a movie, and anyone who likes it could have watched a movie instead. Moreover, if there's a game whose plot is the primary appeal, it should have a plot that's good enough for an eventual second run. Lots of people like to watch a good movie more than once, right?

But let's say the plot isn't so great that I want to see it and hear it again. Let's say I'm about to play a game a second time because the actual game was fun, or because I missed a few optional objectives the first time, or because my high score isn't high enough. If that's the case, I shouldn't be forced to see and hear the story a second time, and since no reasonable person would ever disagree with that statement, I don't understand why any video game developer ever thought unskippable cutscenes were a good idea.

I recently finished L.A. Noire. Played well the first time around, this game might not warrant a second play-through, but I missed plenty of clues and botched more than a few interrogations, so I decided to go back for the five-star ratings (and a few achievements) I missed. And it would have been pretty fun if I didn't have to watch every single cutscene a second time. Why can't we skip the cutscenes in L.A. Noire? I have no idea. I've heard that cutscenes in Max Payne 3 are unskippable because the game uses that time to load, but L.A. Noire has separate loading screens, so I doubt it's the same situation. So, disguised loading screens aside, why would a game ever have unskippable cutscenes? It turns out that there are no good reasons.

Sometimes we wonder why and how a serial killer would decide to brutally murder dozens of people. That a human could do something so senselessly awful is almost beyond comprehension. Two possible explanations come to mind: either the serial killer is very simply insane and his or her actions are the result of a mental defect, or true evil exists in the world and it lives inside that person. Unskippable cutscenes are a much lesser crime than repeated homicide but the same two explanations apply and I can't think of any others. The developers of a game must be crazy (or profoundly stupid) to think that a person playing the game for the second time won't be annoyed by the inability to opt out of re-watching something as pointless as a cutscene. On the other hand, if they do know that such a restriction annoys players, the only reason to implement unskippable cutscenes would be to annoy players and that's pure evil. Surely it's a lesser evil than murder, but the evil is still pure because the only conceivable objective is to cause suffering.

Whether it's intentional or not, the unskippable cutscene often acts as an irritating punishment for failure. In games that forbid players from opting out of having a mediocre story shoved down their throats, there always seems to be a difficult boss fight (or a difficult something) preceded by a long and boring scene that's only entertaining once. And you end up seeing it fifteen times. If that's not bad game design, I don't know what is. Fortunately, none of the cutscenes in L.A. Noire are extremely long and no particular part of the game is likely to be repeated numerous times (since nothing in the game is very challenging and there's an option that allows awful players to skip action sequences). Still, there's no reason for unskippable cutscenes, especially since the concept of skipping a cutscene has been around for approximately as long as cutscenes have existed.

I guess the developers think their story is so important that we shouldn't attempt to enjoy the game without it. They think they need to save us from ourselves by preventing us from "accidentally" missing something important. Sometimes, a story is important enough that it shouldn't be skipped; if I saw someone skipping cutscenes while playing Alan Wake for the first time, I'd probably recommend that they just play a different game. But that's no reason to take away options.

This is one of those things that would cause us to boycott a game if only we had an ounce of self control. Unfortunately, we don't. It's unforgivable, but it's still tolerable enough that the developers and publishers are unlikely to suffer financially as a result, so they won't learn any lessons no matter how much I complain.

Midlife Crisis, Part 2

My new PC is up and running. All of the parts arrived about a week before Halloween, I put everything together on a Friday night, and I started installing drivers over the weekend. Since then, I've installed and tested a few somewhat-high-performance games, namely Crysis, Alan Wake, Deus Ex: Human Revolution, L.A. Noire, and S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Shadow of Chernobyl. They all run rather well on the highest graphics settings. I've also played a bit of Metro 2033, which I got for practically nothing from the Humble THQ Bundle last November, and it performs well enough on maximum settings as well. There's some stuttering, but that's probably the result of poor optimization and there might be a fix somewhere.

For obvious reasons, I don't own any truly "next-generation" games at the moment, so I'm not sure what kind of performance I'll get out of those. In any case, however, I'm better off with this new rig than without it. My old PC worked surprisingly well with some games (running the Metro 2033 demo at a playable frame rate on low settings), but it totally failed to work with others (namely L.A. Noire which, for whatever reason, was getting about two frames per second). Games ported to Windows from the upcoming generation of consoles can certainly be expected to work my new PC much harder than anything I've played so far, and I'm looking forward to seeing how it performs. On the other hand, I can't really say I'm looking forward to seeing what my new favorite toy can't do. After all the time spent on this thing, from finding the parts to powering it on, I want to believe it's perfect.

I breathed a sigh of relief when the final parts arrived — with any luck, I wouldn't have to shop for computer parts again for a few years — but there was still plenty of stress ahead of me. The first hiccup was a return of my supposedly new Gigabyte motherboard to Amazon, since the retail box was not sealed and had some rips in the corners. In other words, it looked like it had already been opened, though the parts inside were still in plastic. Despite my complaints, however, the replacement's box was in roughly the same condition, perhaps slightly worse. Again, however, the inner parts were still in plastic.

I don't know if Amazon was trying to screw me by selling me returned hardware as new, or if Gigabyte was to blame, but I figured I could just get it replaced if it was indeed broken or damaged so I decided to use the motherboard anyway. This might prove to be a mistake, but I was getting impatient. Besides, if Amazon couldn't send me a box that looked shiny and new, I'd have to buy it from elsewhere, and I wasn't confident that other sellers would be more trustworthy than one of the biggest online retailers in existence.

So I started building the computer. Long story short, the motherboard was not dead on arrival, and I've been careful to keep all the paperwork I received for warranty purposes in case something happens later. All of the parts, in fact, seem to be working nicely, even the cheap optical drive. The process of actually assembling the computer was quite an experience, though, since I'd never done it before.

Now that I have done it, building another would probably take less than an hour, but this first build took several. Most of that time was spent reading instructions, looking up computer-building tips, and wondering how hard I need to push to get one part to slide into another. Getting the stock CPU cooler into the motherboard was particularly terrifying, because there's no way to accomplish this without pushing harder than I ever though delicate electronics should be pushed. The same was true of installing the processor itself. I was afraid I'd break it, but those fears were unfounded, since I was doing it correctly and there was no other way.

After getting all the parts into the case, I experienced another momentary freak-out when I thought the fans on the case were totally incompatible with the motherboard. (The motherboard had four-pin headers and the fans had three-pin connectors.) I was wrong — they can, in fact, be plugged in — but it doesn't really matter now anyway, because I opted to plug the case fans directly into the power supply instead. My only concern now is that I might have created air bubbles in the thermal paste when installing that troublesome CPU cooler, since I picked it up again after letting it make contact with the top of the processor. So far, however, the temperatures don't seem to be reaching dangerous levels.

Given all the minor difficulties I encountered — all of which could have been much worse with a little bit of bad luck — I completely understand why the path I chose is less traveled than others. Most people buy consoles or pre-built computers instead, and I don't blame them. Consoles, in particular, are super easy; they plug in and work. You don't have to worry about whether a game is compatible as long as it has the right logo on the box. Moreover, they're affordable, and while performance might only be "good enough" instead of great, it's hard to tell when you're sitting on a couch ten feet from the screen.

People who choose PCs over consoles are sometimes seen as elitists in the so-called "gaming" community, and it's probably because some PC users feel the need to participate in the embarrassingly pathetic "console wars" that break out between fans of competing systems. Xbox fans and Playstation fans like to argue amongst themselves about which console is best, letting their brand loyalty metamorphosize into some kind of vendetta against everyone who bought the other product as they collectively provide Microsoft and Sony with all the free advertising they could ever want. But the PC user, whose system is built from various parts by different manufacturers, doesn't necessarily have any brand loyalty unless he has an affinity for AMD over Intel, or vice versa. The stereotypically elitist "PC gamer" thinks he's above the petty squabbling of console owners, but he stoops to their level nonetheless when he proclaims that his PC is better than any console and says not-so-nice thinks about everybody who bought one. So I'm not going to do that.

It's true that a good computer can outperform any console, because a console is just a specialized computer and it's never made of the best hardware available. For the right price, a PC can surpass a brand new console on the day of release. Even a cheap PC can beat a console in mid-generation, since PC parts continue to improve while consoles stagnate for up to eight years. The PC user, in a way, is right about his system's superiority. That's why console fans who brag about graphics will usually turn around and claim that graphics don't matter once the PC guy joins the discussion. Either that, or they'll pretend it costs over $2000 to build a PC that plays console games at console-equivalent settings, or they'll insist that the only games worth playing are console exclusives.

But there's really no need to grasp at straws so desperately, because consoles do have their purpose. While a PC is good for the hardcore game enthusiast, a console is a much easier solution for casual play, most often for a lower price. A console is a hassle-free, plug-and-play, guaranteed-compatible alternative for the living room. Let's just leave it at that. I might have considered buying a console myself if I weren't in need of a new computer anyway. It was a choice between a console plus a cheap computer, or one good computer, and I chose the latter.

The worst thing about choosing a personal computer over a console is all the second-guessing that comes naturally with an abundance of choice. Now that I have my PC, I won't be buying another for a few years unless something goes terribly wrong, so I won't get to try all the other hardware presently on the market. I guess that's why some people get paid to review this hardware, but there's nothing like first-hand experience, and I'll never be able to make my own comparisons unless I go and buy more parts than I can afford. Console users have fewer decisions to make when buying their hardware, but people are generally happier this way because they don't have to worry as much about making the wrong choice.

As for me, I'll just have to clear my mind of all those what-ifs, and be content with what I have. That is, unless it breaks.

The Problem with Trading Card Games

Scrolls, the upcoming collectible-card-based strategy game from Minecraft developer Mojang, enters its open beta phase today. Essentially, this means you can buy the not-quite-finished game for less than its full price and start playing early while they work out the bugs and make improvements. Some part of me wants to partake in this, because the game looks pretty interesting (and because we all know how playing Minecraft quickly became the most popular thing since breathing), but the rest of me doesn't want to touch this game with a thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole. It looks fun, but I'm conflicted.

Collectible card games are an interesting thing. I want to love them, because I think they're so cool in theory. I wanted to love Magic: The Gathering, the original trading card game published by Wizards of the Coast back in 1993. The concept of such a card game is ingenious, both for its unique gameplay and — let's be honest — for its potential to rake in huge wads of cash for the owners.

Over the past 20 years, new sets of Magic cards have been released on a regular basis, and the total number of different cards seems to have surpassed 13,000, yet the game still remains accessible to newcomers. New rules are introduced all the time, and the balance is tweaked with each new expansion, but the earliest cards can still be used (outside of certain tournaments) together with the ones printed today. The number of possible combinations in a 60-card deck isn't even worth counting.

The ability of each player to create his or her own customized deck of cards, drawing from a collection unlike that of any opponent, is what makes this type of game so fun to play. Unfortunately, this makes the gameplay inherently imbalanced, unless we consider the start of the collection process to be the true beginning of any given match (and that's a stretch). Even then, a game like Magic too often requires continual monetary investment if you want to remain competitive, and this feature (while I'd like to call it a flaw) is by design. I played Magic for a brief period of time, several years ago, and my cards might have been only half-decent back then, but they're total garbage now. More powerful cards and better gameplay mechanics are created with each expansion to keep players spending their money. Of course.

There's also a certain threshold of monetary investment required in order to become competitive in the first place, and that threshold is probably going to scale in proportion to the size of your opponent's paycheck. Things might be balanced within a group if everyone involved cares enough to go on eBay to buy selectively the individual cards they need for one of a few strategies deemed viable at the expert level, but this isn't always affordable. Meanwhile, for more casual play in which most cards are obtained from random packs, the guy who wins most often is going to be the guy who spent the most money on his collection. The three pillars of succeeding in Magic: The Gathering are building a good deck, making the right in-game decisions, and (perhaps most importantly) owning better cards than the other guy (which is where the "collectible" aspect comes in).

When a video game affords even the smallest advantage to a player who spends extra money (e.g., through micro-transactions), we call it "pay-to-win" (even if this isn't literally true) and we hate it because it feels so wrong. It is wrong, because the delicate balance of the game in question is either compromised or completely destroyed. Being at a disadvantage sucks, and if you give in and buy your way to the top then the challenge is gone and the game quickly becomes pointless. (In the most extreme cases, you've essentially just paid to see the words "you win" on your screen, so congratulations on doing that.)

A lesser form of pay-to-win merely allows players to spend some extra money to skip past a seemingly endless grind, as is the case in many so-called "free-to-play" games. This doesn't necessarily destroy the game's balance of power (because the advantages being bought can also be earned through dozens of hours of play), but it does highlight the major flaws already present in the game. If a person wants to pay more money simply to get less gameplay, the game probably sucks (and the person playing it probably hasn't realized there's nothing left to do if you're not grinding).

In the video game world, all of this is positively awful, but most collectible card games are pay-to-win by nature. Sure, they're fun to play if you're up against someone whose skill level and deck quality are in the same league as yours, but if you play against a guy whose collection of cards is twice as big (and twice as expensive) then it's completely unfair.

When I first heard of Magic: The Gathering Online prior to its release in 2002, I thought it might be a little more fair (and affordable) than its tabletop equivalent. I assumed (or at least hoped) that each player would be given access to the same pool of cards, or perhaps that better cards might be unlocked by winning matches, or something. At the very least, I naively believed that players wouldn't have to buy all of their virtual cards at the same price as physical ones because... well, you know, because they're not real cards. Unfortunately, Magic: The Gathering Online is identical to the original card game except that the cards aren't made of card stock and ink.

Duels of the Planeswalkers looks like a nice alternative, even with its relatively small number of cards, until you realize that you can't even build your own deck. This is no surprise, though, since Wizards of the Coast doesn't want this game to be a viable alternative. Duels of the Planeswalkers is meant to draw in new players and get them hooked, so they become frustrated by the lack of deck-building options and graduate to buying packs of cards, be they physical or digital. The virtual cards in Magic: The Gathering Online, despite being virtual, have monetary value because Wizards of the Coast doesn't let you do whatever you want with them. Artificial scarcity makes them seem as rare as the physical cards printed in limited runs on actual paper.

Digital game distributor Steam recently unveiled its own trading card meta-game, which is still in beta, and it's proving to be a nice example of how such artificial scarcity can make something desirable even if it has no real value, no purpose, and no practical function.

Players with access to the beta test can earn virtual trading cards for their Steam Community accounts by logging play time in certain Steam games. These currently include Borderlands 2, Counter-Strike: Global Offensive, Don't Starve, Half-Life 2, and Portal 2, as well as the free-to-play games Dota 2 and Team Fortress 2 (but only if you spend money on them). You can get up to four cards per game just by playing, while eight cards from a single game comprise a complete set. The fact that you can only earn half of any set on your own means that trading (or buying from other players) is a necessity.

Once you get a complete set, those eight cards can be turned into a badge and some other items. The badge is good for nothing at all, while the other goodies that come with it are mostly vanity items, like emoticons and points to "level up" your Steam Community account. (There's also a chance of getting a coupon, but my experience with Steam coupons is that the discounts they offer are less impressive than the ones you see during a typical sale.) The whole thing seems pretty dumb, but you can already see cards for sale on the Steam marketplace, and that doesn't usually happen unless people are buying. There's also a demand for those vanity items. Apparently, some users even made a profit by buying lots of cards and then selling the goodies that come with each badge.

In general, things that were specifically made to be collected usually don't have a lot of real value to collectors. However, if you turn that collection process into a game — even if it's a stupid one — people go nuts. If people are willing to spend real money on virtual trading cards just so they can earn virtual badges and virtual emoticons and level up their Steam accounts for virtual bragging rights, it should be no surprise if the same people are willing to spend money on virtual trading cards that give them an actual advantage in an online game. I can't really blame Wizards of the Coast for taking advantage of this kind of behavior. But when the game is a competitive one, I just don't like the idea of buying victories, even if it's done in an indirect and convoluted way.

A true trading card game, even if its entirely virtual, is going to have some level of imbalance. If each player draws cards from a unique collection, it's never going to be completely fair. All of this might be okay, however, if everything were unlockable through in-game actions and accomplishments. Naturally, I was hopeful when I first saw Scrolls; the official website tells us items at the in-game store can be bought with the gold earned by playing matches, and this presumably includes new cards (called "scrolls" because it sounds so much cooler). However, a "small selection" of items can also be bought with "shards" — a so-called "secondary currency" which you can buy with your real-life credit card.

So how significant is this "small selection" of in-game items? How much of an advantage can you gain by immediately purchasing everything that shards can buy? I can only assume the advantage is pretty significant; otherwise there would be no point. The real question is of whether a person who paid $10 more than you (and doesn't deserve the advantage) is distinguishable from someone who played 20 hours longer than you (and earned the advantage). As long as it's possible to unlock everything that matters through gameplay alone, and as long as doing so is feasible (i.e., not a 500-hour grind), there's some hope for this game.

Mojang has claimed that Scrolls won't become a pay-to-win game despite its purchasable items, but developers say a lot of things before their games are released. The only reason to believe them is that the game does in fact have an initial cost — in other words, it's not "free-to-play" so the developers don't need to rely on in-game purchases to turn a profit.

The cost of access to the open beta is $20, which isn't so bad when you consider the average cost of a modern video game, which tends to be around $50 or $60 regardless of quality. (While this high cost applies mostly to console games, high-profile PC releases tend to follow the same model with some notable exceptions. Runic Games, for example, earned some praise for selling Torchlight II at $20, which gave the action role-playing game a significant advantage over its controversial $60 competitor Diablo III.) Assuming that Scrolls turns out to be a decent game, this discounted price for early access is a pretty good deal.

Unfortunately for Mojang, I've been trained by Steam sales and Humble Bundle events to refrain from buying anything unless or until it's dirt cheap. With some patience and good timing, I could buy a handful of older games for the same $20 and I'd be sure to enjoy at least one of them. It doesn't take long for the price of a game to drop, and this is especially true of PC games now that developers are realizing they need to compete with piracy instead of trying in vain to stamp it out. As a result, people who play PC games — or the "PC gaming community" for those of you who can say such a thing with a straight face — have come to expect their games to be inexpensive. $20 is a good deal, but it's not great.

I certainly don't mean to imply, of course, that we should all wait a few years to pick up Mojang's new release. After all, we don't even know if it will ever be subjected to such brutal price-slashing. Furthermore, Scrolls is a multiplayer game which might only be fun for as long as the number of players remains high, so the time to buy is now, if you want it. The problem is that the game is a risky investment and my spending limit for such a risk is so low.

That limit — the point below which a risky investment becomes a risk worth taking and any potential buyer's remorse becomes bearable — is different for everyone. For me, it's about $5. That might seem like a ridiculously small figure, but it's what I paid for BioShock a few years ago. It's what I paid for S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Shadow of Chernobyl. It's also what I paid for the first two Max Payne games combined. I almost bought Metro 2033 for $5, but I waited and got it for even less. I got Killing Floor for $5, a few years ago, and I've put more hours into that game than anything else I can remember. None of these games were new when I bought them, but I still enjoyed each of them at least as much as any $20 game I ever bought.

None of this is really a complaint about Scrolls or the open beta price tag in particular. But I might be more willing to spend four times what I paid for Killing Floor if I actually knew Scrolls would be a worthwhile purchase. Isn't there some way of trying out a game before its release without paying $20 for access to a beta version? Oh, yes, a free demo certainly would be nice. Maybe we'll get one of those later on... but we probably won't.

No Sequel for Alan Wake (Yet)

This article was also published on Gather Your Party on May 23, 2013. Read it here.

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Today brings good news and bad news for Alan Wake fans.

The good news is that, for the next week, you'll be able to get both Alan Wake games for very cheap, along with some previously unseen goodies. The bad news is that it's the last we'll be seeing of this series for a while.

After a five-week break, Humble Bundle has gone back to its weekly sales, a practice which had initially lasted for less than a month before being put on hiatus. The flavor of the week, as you might have guessed, is Remedy Entertainment's third-person, horror-themed, psychological thriller Alan Wake. The bundle includes the original game alongside its ambiguously canonical and unnumbered follow-up, Alan Wake's American Nightmare, as well as a whole bunch of bonus content, some of which has never been released.

As with most other Humble Bundle sales, you can pay whatever you want (down to one cent), but you'll need to pay at least a dollar to get Steam copies of the games. Oddly, unlike most other bundles, there doesn't seem to be any material incentive to pay higher than the average contribution. Surely, you could just do that out of the kindness of your heart... but if you're not that kind, these games will never be cheaper. The bundle is a pretty good deal no matter how you look at it, even if you prefer the Steam keys, because a similar Steam bundle (minus previously unreleased bonus content) has only gone as low as $9.99 in previous Steam sales.

With this bundle also comes an announcement video from Remedy Entertainment creative director Sam Lake, which might have Alan Wake lovers crying themselves to sleep like Half-Life enthusiasts have been doing for the past five-and-a-half years.

The video, addressed apologetically to Alan Wake fans, reveals that Remedy is working on "something new, something big" — but the key word here is "new" which means, of course, that we're not talking about the continuation of an existing franchise. There's no way around it, so Lake comes out and tells it like it is: Alan Wake 2 will not be released in the foreseeable future.

This might come as a surprise to fans who were paying attention when Remedy seemingly dropped a few clues about an upcoming sequel. Most notably, Sam Lake tweeted a cryptic quote, the same heard as a backwards message in a song performed by Poets of the Fall as the fictional heavy metal band Old Gods of Asgard. It seemed promising, but maybe we shouldn't have been so excited.

The "town called Ordinary" might have been the setting for the next game in the series, but it might also have been a simple reference to the setting of American Nightmare, the game in which the song is featured. That game, after all, does take place in an unnamed town. (The narrator calls it Night Springs, but this is the Alan Wake universe's parody of The Twilight Zone, so if any part of the game takes place outside of Alan's mind then this disembodied voice can't be trusted.)

Regardless, it looks like Alan Wake 2 is on the back burner. Remedy "worked hard to make the sequel happen," says Lake, but the project apparently suffered from a lack of sufficient funding. Although total sales of the original game have exceeded 3 million copies, he notes, it was by no means an instant success upon its release. This makes throwing money at a sequel a risky investment, especially when the success of a modern game is judged so heavily on pre-order sales. One might expect a sequel to do better in that department, given the existing fanbase, but it would seem the franchise is cursed by its initial sales performance.

Lake remarks that Remedy could have done something "less ambitious" (i.e., less expensive) with the next Alan Wake, but explains that such a compromise "wouldn't have done justice to you... to us... and certainly wouldn't have done justice to Alan Wake." Perhaps, while we lament the indefinite postponement of what might have been a great game, we should be glad that Remedy Entertainment was unwilling to spoil the franchise with a mediocre cash-grab sequel. Lake is careful not to suggest that another Alan Wake will never be made; he only makes it very clear that now is not the right time.

Fortunately for Remedy, money isn't an issue for their new project, Quantum Break. The trailer, first shown at the Xbox One reveal, has live-action footage, a creepy girl with special powers, a bridge disaster, and some poor guy dying in slow motion. Sam Lake calls it the "ultimate Remedy experience" drawing on everything the development studio learned from Max Payne and Alan Wake.

Aside from these vague hints, not much is known about the upcoming release. The game is said to be an Xbox One exclusive, but only time will tell if this is set in stone; Alan Wake was an Xbox 360 exclusive before it was released for Windows a couple of years later, so we can afford to be optimistically skeptical. Maybe the same thing will happen again.

Until then, the Alan Wake Humble Bundle sale, along with an accompanying sale on Xbox Live, is Remedy's big thank-you to all of its fans. Sadly, it seems a bit too much like a tentative funeral for the franchise. The last minute of the announcement video is a live-action clip of various Alan Wake paraphernalia being locked in a crate and wheeled off into the back of a warehouse. The crate is labeled "Do Not Open Until..." but the date, of course, is hidden and will likely remain unknown until the Quantum Break franchise has run its course.

Jumping in Slow Motion: The Sequel

Recently, I wrote a little about Max Payne, which I'd neglected to play until this winter. Now it's a week later and I've gotten through Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne.

Again, very enjoyable, and again, occasionally hilarious. In my opinion, it wasn't quite as difficult as the first — or, at least, it seemed to require a bit less of that dreaded trial-and-error save scumming in most levels. This is because fewer of the fights are set up in such a way that you'll be blasted as soon as you enter a room and subsequently die for no good reason other than your failure to predict the future (which, of course, was perfectly fine in the first Max Payne as long as you didn't mind saving often and learning things the hard way).

Regardless, I still progressed through Max Payne 2 at a snail's pace, retrying some fights over and over again before moving on, but that was usually by choice rather than by way of humiliating failure. After getting past a particular room, I'd often decide to see if I could do it again without getting shot, or with as few bullets as possible, or just for the sake of using some grenades (which I have a tendency to hoard until I can't carry any more).

The combat itself seemed a lot more forgiving. Either that, or I've just gotten that much less terrible at third-person shooters in general, and Max Payne in particular. So maybe I'm completely wrong, but I did get the impression that the enemies' reaction times were increased, and that the protagonist is a bit more bulletproof than he was before. Bullet time, also, seems considerably more useful this time around.

Maybe I'd be able to offer a better analysis of the differences between the two games if I were to play them both in the same day, perhaps side-by-side for a careful comparison, but I'm less interested in the details than in the overall experience of playing the game. In short, it was a hell of a good time.

The story, though I'd be lying if I said it were even 10% of my motivation for finishing the game, was a lot better than in the original. Spending some time playing as Max Payne's sidekick, nemesis, and love interest Mona Sax was a nice change, too, even if it was only a superficial one. What I really didn't like about the game was the occasional escort mission, the first of which has a player-controlled Mona Sax defending a nearly-helpless computer-controlled Max Payne.

Escort and defense missions are generally pretty terrible in any game, and I failed plenty of times in this particular level — partly because it was such a drastic change of pace, and partly because I vastly overestimated the protagonist's ability to survive when I wasn't controlling him. With Mona Sax high up in a building and Max Payne down with the bad guys on the ground, this part of the game is essentially an exercise in spotting those bad guys before they can start shooting. If Max is getting shot and you don't see the shooter right away, his health is going to drop very quickly.

By contrast, whenever the player is controlling Max Payne and Mona Sax is nearby, she's invincible and doesn't need to be defended. In these particular fights, if you're feeling lazy, you can even hang back and let her wipe out every enemy in the room. I can't help but wonder if the developers sought intentionally to turn the so-called "damsel in distress" cliché on its head with this rather unusual discrepancy. I almost wonder what Anita Sarkeesian thinks of it, and perhaps we'll find out when she finally releases the long-overdue premier video in her crowd-funded series on sexism in video games, but if she does analyze this game then she'll probably be more interested in the fact that the game's heroine is seen nude or partially undressed on multiple occasions, and might be regarded as little more than an excuse for sex appeal if you can manage to ignore most of the game's plot.

Whatever her purpose in the game, I really started to enjoy Max Payne 2 during the first level in which Mona Sax is the playable character, though I can't say exactly why. Maybe it was the level design. Or maybe it's just that I had finally reached the point where practice pays off and started getting a lot of headshots with the Desert Eagle... which, by the way, might just be the most satisfying weapon in the game. Even blowing up three guys with a grenade isn't nearly as gratifying as efficiently popping each of them in the head as you jump out from cover in slow motion, and even though painting the entire room with bullet holes while wielding dual Ingram machine pistols might be more effective if you're still a beginner, it also gets dull pretty quickly. Part of making an enjoyable shooter is including a selection of weapons that feel powerful (without actually making them so powerful that they break the balance of the game), and this means good sound effects. The Ingram, unfortunately, sounds awful, but the Desert Eagle sounds very nice.

It only does the job when you can manage to hit the bad guys in the face, but that's where you should always be aiming regardless of your weapon of choice. Headshots are everything in Max Payne (which is why I find it so strange that the developer, Remedy Entertainment, went on to create Alan Wake, in which shooting a bad guy in the head is no different from shooting him in the toe... but I guess that's just because Alan Wake really isn't a shooter). Max Payne 2, like its predecessor, very often becomes a game of activating bullet time and then clicking on heads as quickly as you can. Anything else is a waste of bullets.

Now that I've gotten both of Remedy Entertainment's Max Payne games out of my backlog, I can look forward to (eventually) playing Rockstar Games' Max Payne 3. But, as I've mentioned before, I'm in need of a better computer, and I'd rather wait until after I make that purchase so that I don't have to play the game on minimum graphical settings, or at a mediocre frame rate, or both.

Jumping in Slow Motion: The Game

Last night, I finished Max Payne. (The first one.) It took me a while, because my playing time has been cut drastically by that irritating thing called employment, but I finally finished it.

I'd previously played both games in Remedy Entertainment's newer series, Alan Wake, so I was confident in the developers' ability to create an entertaining third-person shooter. Obviously, though, the two franchises don't really have much in common aside from the presence of firearms, the fact that each game is named after its protagonist, and the amount of time you'll spend looking at the back of each protagonist's head.

Max Payne, for example, is insanely, ludicrously, hilariously violent. It was even a bit awkward, I must admit, to start playing this game less than a week after a particular mass murder which called into question (for some) the effects of violent video games on young people. Personally, I don't think games like this one are harmful at all, but the subject was still on my mind. This is exactly the type of game, I thought to myself, that would start a misinformed media frenzy if it were ever discovered in the bedroom of some kid who had gone and shot a bunch of people.

If someone told me that Max Payne, of all games, might desensitize players to violence and make them more likely to commit violent acts, I'd respond that the game is just too damn silly to have that kind of effect on people. The game doesn't take itself very seriously at all, and while some might say that's part of the problem, there's just no way that anyone could get real ideas about harming people after playing a game in which most of the shooting is done while jumping in slow motion. If a killer in the making were going to get ideas about how to commit a mass murder from a video game (which is unlikely), or if such a person actually wanted to train for such an act using video games (which is extremely unlikely), he or she would probably be found playing a more realistic shooter.

Max Payne has absolutely no respect for the concept of realism, and everything (including the violence and the motivation for violence) is consequently so tongue-in-cheek that, to me, this particular shooter almost seems like a parody of its own genre. (It some parts it even becomes a parody of itself.) Like the gameplay, the story is pretty grim, in a lot of ways — it involves drug use, corruption, government conspiracy, and a ton of murder — but there's enough humor and absurdity in the telling of that story to lighten the mood, just a little, if you're paying attention. More importantly, the ridiculous, contorted expression on Max Payne's unmoving face destroys the serious tone of the opening cinematic. I couldn't hold it in; I had to laugh. In fact, that happened a lot throughout the game, not necessarily because it was meant to be funny but because the stuff happening on my screen was so insane.

The type of carnage that occurs throughout Max Payne is only a couple of steps beyond cartoon violence. There's a bit of blood spray and some flailing when the bad guys fall down, but that's it. They even stay in one piece when they're blown up with grenades, which makes it more hilarious than tragic when a thug tries to toss a grenade at you and ends up killing himself. I should also mention that Max Payne isn't the only one with a goofy face. All of this is due in part to the outdated graphical capabilities of the game, but the developers clearly weren't aiming for realism in any case. The only hint of realism throughout the entire experience is that the protagonist is by no means invincible. If you're playing for the first time, prepare to watch Max Payne die over and over again, sometimes from a single gunshot without any warning.

Part of what made the game interesting for me is that the main character, though certainly a bad ass, is pretty fragile for an action hero. I played through the game on the easiest difficulty setting (because the others are initially locked), and the game still killed me plenty of times. Unlike some other video game protagonists, Max Payne isn't exactly a bullet sponge... and unlike some other video game villains, the ones here aren't always terrible at shooting, so you won't be feeling so great if one of them manages to shoot first. You can fill up your health bar by finding painkillers and eating them like candy — another aspect of the game which is so absurdly unrealistic that it's hard to see it as anything but lighthearted humor — but the painkillers don't work instantaneously. If you start getting hit with bullets, and the guy who fired them isn't already dead, you're in big trouble, and you'll probably be watching your own slow-motion death before you can head for cover.

The reason Max can survive to the end of the game, taking down hundreds of heavily armed bad guys along the way, isn't because he's tougher. It's because of the advantages that you, as a player, have over the game — actual intelligence, the ability to quicksave and try again when you die, and the ability to know what's coming when you do so. The game is very scripted, so it's rather predictable. If you immediately die when you walk into a room because some thug with a shotgun was waiting or you on the left, you'll know to turn left the next time you enter that room. If you get blown up by a grenade that comes flying around the corner as you walk down a hallway, you know that the same grenade will be thrown in the same spot the next time around.

Since playing the game for the first time without dying over and over again is virtually impossible, you'll have to rely heavily on quicksaving. In some places, you'll only succeed through trial and error. You can always improve your reflexes and practice your aiming, but you'll win by knowing where the bad guys are and by turning to shoot them before they appear.

The player also has the ability to jump in slow motion, shooting in mid-air, and this is the game's big gimmick. Having trouble with a particular gun fight? Try using bullet time. While it certainly isn't the end-all game-winning move, as the slow-motion feature in F.E.A.R. was, it's still pretty useful. Then again, the game was designed around it, so it's really all but necessary if you don't want to be hopelessly outgunned. Like quicksaving, it's a crutch, but it's a crutch you'll probably need to lean on in order to beat the game. If you refuse to use those crutches, you'll be putting yourself through a lot of unnecessary punishment.

In any case, despite the occasional frustration, Max Payne was a pretty interesting experience. To be perfectly honest, I didn't expect to like it very much, for some of the game's most noticeable attributes are associated today with bad game design — the scripted enemy behavior, the excessive reliance on a single gameplay gimmick, and what might be called artificial difficulty (in the sense that the player will die frequently through no fault of his or her own and must rely on save scumming to progress). But the game is still fun, in its own way. Furthermore, while much of the game is a thoroughly tongue-in-cheek embrace of senseless ultra-violence, Max Payne is still known for its great writing.

The plot isn't the most imaginative, but the protagonist's monologues — though a bit too heavy on the metaphors — are very well done. They affect the mood and the atmosphere of the game in a way not often seen in shooters, and the neo-noir graphic-novel style storytelling makes the game truly unique.

Obviously, the game is pretty outdated now, so I'm not sure how strongly I should recommend it to the average player. You certainly won't see the beauty in this 2001 game's ugly graphics if you can't compare them to the uglier graphics of the late '90s and beyond. But I hope new and future fans of the series will keep returning to this game despite its visual shortcomings. The franchise is still alive with the past year's release of Max Payne 3, and it's always best to play an entire series in order rather than simply skipping to the newest game.

Then again, I haven't yet played either of the Max Payne sequels, and I honestly can't say whether the latest installment bears any resemblance to the original.

I'm Thankful for Video Games

I've been too busy to write anything interesting for this week because I've started a new job, and this one actually requires me to go to sleep before midnight. Since I do most of my writing between midnight and dawn, this is a small problem. However, it isn't going to change anytime soon unless I get fired, so I hope I can work around it somehow. Of course, I do have a day off tomorrow, but it won't be spent in front of a computer. And on that note, to those of you who live in the United States, have a great Thanksgiving. (To everyone else, have fun getting up for work in the morning.)

But while I'm here, I might as well mention that Steam has begun its Autumn Sale, presumably in honor of Thanksgiving and to coincide with Black Friday. This comes just a few days after the Autumn Seal website stopped giving out free coupons for a short list of games (Alan Wake Collector's Edition, Alan Wake's American Nightmare, Trine, Trine 2, Trine 2: Goblin Menace, Trine Complete Collection, Legend of Grimrock, and Rochard).

The Trine series coupons have already expired as of last night, but the Alan Wake series and Legend of Grimrock coupons are still good for the rest of the day, and the Rochard coupon is still good through tomorrow. In addition, all of these games are currently 50% off, as a result of the current sale. So here's the big question: Do the Autumn Seal coupons' discounts stack with the sale's discounts?

As you can see, I have a few of each (unexpired) coupon left, since it took that many spins of the Autumn Seal slot machine to get the Trine coupons I really wanted.

All week, I've felt like an idiot for having so many of these coupons and not using them — I wanted at least to give them away — but it looks as if my coupon hoarding might have paid off.

The Rochard, Legend of Grimrock, and Alan Wake's American Nightmare coupons all work as expected. Only the Alan Wake Collector's Edition coupon doesn't seem to work at first glance, but that's because it's misnamed (and this is a good thing). Despite what the coupon says, it actually applies to the Alan Wake Franchise pack, which includes the Collector's Edition as well as American Nightmare.

Since the discounts are applied one at a time, a 50% coupon used on a 50%-off game totals to 75% off, as is the case with Legend of Grimrock and the Alan Wake games. Rochard, on the other hand, ends up being around 87.5% off, which would be a fantastic deal if the game weren't so recently included in a pay-what-you-want Humble Bundle. Overall, though, this is pretty good. While a Steam coupon is typically useless because it almost never offers as good a discount as one might find during a seasonal sale, the fact that these coupons can be used during this event makes them worth having.

Of course, the coupons are only good for the very beginning of this sale, and some of these games will surely be featured as daily deals after the coupons expire, in which case they will end up being around 75% off anyway.

At least now we know that it is possible for coupons to stack with existing discounts. Since it so rarely happens, a lot of people tend to think either that coupons are deactivated during sales or that they're timed perfectly to expire before any sale begins. (During the last Winter sale, coupons were given out, but they weren't activated until after the sale was over, and there wasn't another sale until the coupons were dead.)

Anyhow, I'm planning on trading away (or giving away) as many of these coupons as I can, and perhaps even using a few of them myself to buy gifts for friends. I could just wait until a daily deal gives me the equivalent discount, but this way, I actually get to make use of my Steam inventory instead of just letting stuff sit there until it vanishes.

Sandy & Steam Sale

While a deadly hurricane named Sandy lays waste to the east coast of the United States, threatening to rain all over my favorite holiday (which is now only two days away), Steam has begun its Halloween Sale. Sadly, it lasts only from now until Wednesday, and surely many affected by the storm will be without power for the entirety of the event. I'm still fortunate enough to have power where I am, but the weather has been getting steadily worse since late last night, so that might not last.

For those who can shop online this week, there are some nice discounts. I'm seeing a lot of "-75%" tags. The games currently "featured," however, don't seem to have greater discounts than the other five dozen games on sale. Perhaps the word "featured" just means new or popular, or maybe the featured games are chosen randomly and cycled throughout the sale. After all, the games on the "featured" list make up about a third of the games that are marked down for the duration of this three-day sale.

In any case, you'll want to make sure you check out the "All Halloween Games on Sale" list, located just below the "Featured Games on Sale" list on this page. Otherwise you might miss out something good.

While I'm here, I might as well come up with my own list of noteworthy games, based on my own crazy and possibly worthless opinions. First, I'd like to point out that some of the games on sale are those I mentioned in my last post on Wednesday:

• F.E.A.R. (with its two expansion packs included) is only $2.49, which is just painful for me to look at, since I paid $50 for the game back in 2005, and then bought the expansions separately for at least $30 each. Still, I loved the game so much that I have no buyer's remorse, not even after seeing it go for two bucks and change. Needless to say, I'd argue that F.E.A.R. is worth buying right now, if you're into paranormal first-person shooters. (The rest of the F.E.A.R. series is on sale as well, but I'm not so crazy about those sequels.)
• The Painkiller Complete Pack is going for $7.49. That's a bit more than I paid for the Complete Pack a year ago, but there were fewer games included at the time.) Strangely, only a couple of the games — Resurrection and Recurring Evil — are on sale individually. The result is that buying the whole pack is actually cheaper than buying the first game, Painkiller: Black Edition, alone.
  

  Update: Scratch that. It looks like all of the individual Painkiller games are now 75% off, which means Painkiller: Black Edition is only $2.49. I still think the bundle is a fair price, but if you're unsure of how you feel about this particular brand of first-person shooter, I'd recommend buying only the original game, since most of the sequels are mediocre at best.

• Killing Floor is $4.99, which is normal during any Steam sale, so I wouldn't hold your breath waiting for it to get much cheaper. It's also in the middle of its Hillbilly Horror Event for Halloween, which goes until November 6, so all of the zombies are dressed up like... well, hillbillies. It's a lot of fun, especially if you have some friends with whom to team up and play.
• Alan Wake is marked down to $14.99, and Alan Wake's American Nightmare is only $7.49. I've seen them go for cheaper, but you might have to wait until the winter sale for that to happen again.

And a few other things worth mentioning:

• The Walking Dead is down to $14.99. It's not a huge discount, but I've only heard good things about this game, and I've been seriously thinking about adding it to my collection.
• Amnesia: The Dark Descent is currently $4.99, while each of the Penumbra games are $2.49. (Oddly, the Penumbra Collector Pack is $4.99, which is one cent more than the combined cost of the two included Penumbra games.)
• Magicka is $2.49. It's a hilarious game and I love it. I just wish it were better optimized. It tends to run like crap on my computer while much prettier games work perfectly.
• Zombie Driver HD is marked down to $4.99 after a 50% discount. The original Zombie Driver, which I got for $2.49 a while ago, is a lot of fun, and I can only assume that this updated version is at least as good. Unfortunately, it really is just an updated version of the original — not a sequel — so you might want to think twice about getting it if you already have the standard edition. Owners of the original game are supposed to get a 50% discount, but that doesn't seem to stack with the Halloween Sale discount, which is really a shame.
• I wanted to buy Rage, but even with the current discount, it's still $9.99. I'll be waiting a little longer for the price to drop below $5, but I don't expect everyone to be as stingy as I am.
• Each of the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. games — which are fantastic if you have a decent computer and don't mind installing a couple of bug-fixing mods — are on sale as well: Shadow of Chernobyl for $9.99, Clear Sky for $4.99, and Call of Pripyat for $7.49. (As with the Penumbra series, there seems to be a bug in the pricing of the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Bundle, which costs one cent more than the price of the included games, Shadow of Chernobyl and Call of Pripyat.)
• I've been waiting for the Overlord Complete Pack to go on sale for a while, so I just might pick it up now for $4.99. (I've never played it, but it kinda reminds me of a more diabolic Pikmin.)
• The Dead Space games are each $4.99, which seems pretty cool. I've never played them, but you can't go horribly wrong for five bucks. Just make sure you don't buy the Dead Space Pack, since, again, it costs one cent more than the combined price of the individual games. At first I thought this was a bug, but now I think it's just plain carelessness.
• Predictably, the Left 4 Dead series is on sale, as is just about every game with the word "zombie" in the title — and there are far too many to name. Some of them look cute, others look like shovelware. Just beware the deceptive power of tempting discounts on awful products.

I should mention that there are Halloween deals on Amazon and Origin as well. I haven't checked them out in detail just yet, so I can't say whether they're better or worse than the current steam sale, but every option is worth considering. While I might be slightly biased in favor of Steam (because my friends are on it), I encourage you all — as always — to shop around before spending any money.