Showing posts with label eternal darkness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eternal darkness. Show all posts

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Humble Bundle and Sunset

A Humble Weekly Bundle called Leading Ladies 2 ended earlier today. Maybe I should have posted about this bundle while it was still available, in the interest of not being a slowpoke. However, in retrospect, I'm glad I'm posting this after the fact. Even though this blog doesn't get many visitors, I wouldn't want to risk giving any free promotion to that particular bundle in any way. Mentioning it before now, even in a critical manner, might have had that undesired effect.

None of this has anything to do with the "leading ladies" theme of the included games, by the way. I have nothing against female characters or female protagonists in video games. Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem, after all, was a brilliant game; Super Metroid was a brilliant game; Perfect Dark was a brilliant game. Sunset, however, was not a brilliant game. More importantly, the game's development studio (Tale of Tales) deserves no one's money.

The other games in the recently-ended weekly bundle, as far as I know, are wonderful; I know from first-hand experience that Trine 2 is a perfectly fine game. I also know that anyone who buys a pack of games from Humble Bundle can specify where every cent of his or her money goes: to Humble Bundle itself, to a charity (in this case the Girls Make Games scholarship fund via the Tides Foundation), to any of the developers of the games being offered, or to any combination thereof.

Unfortunately, I can only assume that the vast majority of customers do not bother with these options, and just use the default split (65% equally divided amongst developers, 20% to charity, and a 15% "tip" for Humble). Most customers probably just don't care, and what makes this especially bad is that the default settings will send money to the developers of all the games being offered, regardless of what a customer pays.


Typically, in any Humble Bundle, only a few games (in this case Trine 2: Complete Story, Lumino City, and Hack 'n' Slash) are available for any price (or a minimum of $1 for Steam-only games), while some more games (in this case A City Sleeps and The Marvellous Miss Take) are available to customers paying more than the average amount paid so far, and then some more games (in this case Gravity Ghost and Sunset) are available for a typically higher fixed price (in this case $12). As of the end of this weekly sale, the average amount paid was only $4.23; this means that the vast majority of customers didn't pay enough to get Sunset. However, the developers of Sunset still got money from every customer who didn't explicitly choose to put Sunset's share to zero in the options during payment.

More than 52,600 of these bundles were sold this week, the average paid was $4.23, and (as we can see in the image above) each developer gets approximately 9.3% of the revenue by default. If just about everyone used the default settings during payment (and "everyone" is probably a reasonably close estimate), the developers of Sunset raked in more than $20,600.00 during this sale. And this all happened after the previously abysmal sales of Sunset caused them to have a minor meltdown on social media in which they forsook commercial game development, whined about consumers and capitalism, and acted pretty childish in general.

Their oft-cited insults against "gamers" (shown below) are a joke, but still tasteless; moreover, they're the kind of joke that betrays the true feelings of the joker.

To paraphrase: "Ha ha, look how not mad we are; we're so chill that we're pretending to be mad as a joke! But really, we're incredibly mad."

And then there's this more serious quip:
And here's the best part of all:
In what universe could good video games (or a career in them) be possible without capitalism? But of course they hate the free market when they're the ones who put out the product which no one wanted.

I guess the point of this post is to remind people to be aware of where their money goes in the future. If you're paying less than $12 for a pack of games, there's no reason for any of your money to go to the developers of a game which is only unlocked for $12 or more, especially if those developers are talentless hacks known for being crybabies on Twitter.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Games to Play on Halloween

The best holiday is coming up in only a week, and if you're looking to get hyped for Halloween, the only thing better than a cheesy horror movie is a spooky video game. I'm going to list a few of my favorites here, in no particular order.

Of course, the most obvious can go first.

Resident Evil


I'm not sure what to say about the series as a whole. The franchise itself is nothing short of legendary, but I wasn't fond of the prequel Resident Evil Zero, and I've heard bad things about both of the most recent releases, Resident Evil: Operation Raccoon City and Resident Evil 6. This shouldn't be a surprise; any series that stays around as long as this one has is bound to go sour at some point. I did, however, enjoy the hell out of the GameCube remake of the original. It was the first Resident Evil game I ever owned, and on my first playthrough, it scared the crap out of me.

The controls were awful, as they were in every installment in the series prior to Resident Evil 4. The pairing of character-relative controls and fixed camera angles is truly one of the worst things ever to happen to video games — but I have to say that it did, in a pretty stupid way, make the game scarier. Avoiding or shooting a small number of slow-moving zombies probably doesn't sound like a frightening ordeal to anyone who plays the likes of Left 4 Dead, but with such clumsy controls, what would be a walk in the park becomes a nightmare. The character turns too slowly, and aiming for the head involves more luck than skill. The camera angles are uniformly bad, as well. It's frustrating, but effective at making the player feel helpless even with a gun.

What makes Resident Evil most effective, however, is that it doesn't rely on cheap "jump scares" to startle the player. The game is scary because of its expert control of suspense, because you don't know what's around the next corner, and because you don't know how much ammunition you can spare. It's the definitive survival horror, and it does almost everything right. As far as horror games on the GameCube go, the Resident Evil remake is second only to...

Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem


I've already written quite a lot about Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem, another GameCube masterpiece. It's not the scariest game I've ever played — not even close — but it's got a creepy atmosphere, a fantastic story, and some clever gameplay mechanics.

Eternal Darkness is a psychological horror, so it's a bit more subtle and slow-paced than most other horror games, which tend rely on sudden, loud noises and simple shock value to scare the player. It's only going to startle you in a couple of places, and there isn't a lot of blood and gore, but the sanity system will do its best to freak you out in a variety of (occasionally hilarious) ways. More importantly, the game doesn't do a bad job of creating an overwhelming sense of impending doom.

Overall, it's a nice game to get you in the Halloween spirit, especially if you're a big fan of H. P. Lovecraft. And speaking of Lovecraft...

Alone in the Dark: The New Nightmare


I almost didn't include this game on the list, but alas, the power of nostalgia is too great. It's been years since I played it, and I must admit that I never quite got to the end. Maybe I got stuck, maybe it was too hard, or maybe I was so creeped out by my first survival horror experience that I couldn't bear to go on. In any case, I was a lot younger at the time, and I wasn't as enthusiastic about PC games as I am now.

The New Nightmare is the 2001 sequel to the Lovecraft-inspired Alone in the Dark trilogy from the early 1990s — which, unfortunately, I've never had the pleasure of playing. (Or maybe it's more of a spin-off, since another sequel in 2008 apparently retcons The New Nightmare out of existence.) My memory of the plot is somewhat fuzzy, but what I do remember is that the game creeped me out more than a little. While I'm sure the graphics have aged poorly, I'd like to give the game another try, if I can ever find the discs.

The New Nightmare suffered from the same clunky controls that plagued the early Resident Evil games. And, like Resident Evil, it has two protagonists, takes place in a mansion, and involves a lot of puzzles. The similarities are hard to ignore, but there are some differences, namely the replacement of zombies, zombie-dogs, zombie-snakes, zombie-sharks, and zombie-birds with a slightly more creative variety of creepy crawlies, as well as the use of a flashlight to fend off the baddies. Actually, that last part kind of reminds me of...

Alan Wake


I wrote more than enough about Alan Wake in my earlier post on cinematic games, so if you're no stranger to this blog, you're probably aware that I enjoyed the game immensely. The transparently Stephen King-inspired psychological horror/action game earns its place on this list with a spooky atmosphere and a superb story. The two short DLC expansions, truth be told, were a bit weird, and I can't say I really enjoyed the sequel, Alan Wake's American Nightmare (of which the only redeeming quality, in the absence of a decent story, is the intense arcade mode), but the original game is definitely worth a try.

Like many horror games, it's not so scary once you get the hang of killing the bad guys, nor is it as thrilling once you know every plot twist and the location of every precious box of ammunition, but the first playthrough will have its share of potentially unnerving moments.

And those bad guys — whom, in the beginning of the game, consist largely of possessed, axe-wielding lumberjacks in the woods at night — can be really frightening. I think it's mostly in the way they move. Even when you dodge their attacks, you can almost feel the power behind every swing. The way they stumble when they miss, and the way Alan ducks out of the way just in time... there's a real sense of momentum that's absent in the awkwardly animated combat of a lot of video games.

Now just wait until you're surrounded by those guys, low on bullets, with a long way to run to the next safe haven. As in any good horror game, simply running away isn't an option. The bad guys are faster than you, and you can only escape them for as long as you can successfully dodge their attacks without running into a corner. At some point, you'll need to turn around and fight. The same is true of...

Killing Floor


Unlike every other game I've mentioned, Killing Floor is primarily a multiplayer game. In fact, you might say it's exclusively multiplayer, since playing the solo mode is essentially the same as going online and joining an empty server, and since playing alone isn't nearly as fun.

Generally, I prefer single-player games, but Killing Floor — a stand-alone game based on a mod for Unreal Tournament 2004 — has become one of my all-time favorites, for two reasons. The first is that it's cooperative. Up to six players team up against a horde of computer-controlled zombies, so unless someone makes a boneheaded move that inadvertently gets the whole team killed, there are no hard feelings between human players. For the most part, everyone you'll meet online is rather friendly. The second reason is that, unlike most multiplayer games, Killing Floor requires a lot of coordinated teamwork.

Forget about spooky ambiance and creepy music. Killing Floor is scary because it's hard. The easiest setting is a joke, but anything above that can be a serious challenge, depending on the collective skills of the team. And with the number of zombies in each wave increasing as more players join, there's little room for weak links. You need to be able to count on your team, and you need to keep them alive, because there's no worse feeling than being the last guy alive with a bunch of monsters chasing after you. Killing Floor is one of the least forgiving video games I've played in recent memory, and it's not for the faint of heart. But I love it. The only first-person shooter I've spent more hours playing is...

F.E.A.R.


Some would argue that F.E.A.R. falls flat on its face as a genuine horror game. It's got a somewhat spooky story, and occasionally you'll hear voices or see the ghost of a little dead girl, but there aren't a whole lot of monsters that jump out at you... at least, not for most of the game. But as a first-person shooter, F.E.A.R. excels and exceeds expectations. A horror-themed game doesn't need to make you crap your pants in order to be fun, and F.E.A.R. certainly is a lot of fun.

The enemy AI is very good; while the bad guys occasionally show their stupidity, they do attempt to flank you, and they're pretty good at flushing you out of hiding with grenades if they know where you are. The way they talk to each other while attempting to take you down also adds a lot of realism. The slow-motion feature, while a bit gimmicky, does add a little something extra to the gameplay, and is genuinely useful (perhaps too useful) even in the most dire of circumstances. The "scary parts" are all scripted, but if you're playing on the highest difficulty, the fear of being shot to death should keep you on the edge of your seat through most of the game.

There are two expansion packs and a couple of sequels, if you want more, but I don't have anything good to say about those. The story stopped making sense in the expansions (which were later retconned), and it became downright silly by the end of the first sequel. Also, be advised that the second sequel is meant to be played with two people. While there is a single-player campaign, it's really just cooperative mode without the second character, who mysteriously and nonsensically shows up nonetheless during cutscenes. If you just want to shoot things, go ahead and play the whole series, but don't expect any of the unanswered questions leftover from the first game to be adequately resolved. Speaking of great games with mediocre sequels...

Painkiller


A moderately fast-paced shooter with a demonic theme and an old-school style, Painkiller is easily one of the most solid purchases I ever made on Steam. The "Complete Pack" (which, at the time, included fewer games than it does now) was marked down to $4.99, and the first game alone is worth at least that much to me. The story is truly awful, and the voice acting is atrocious, but the gameplay is good enough to make up for that. Painkiller is pure; it's a first-person shooter without all the pointless fluff. It's nonstop carnage. It's all you could ask from a first-person shooter unless you really care about character development, and I know you don't.

If you're a fan of classic shooters like Doom, and more modern throwbacks like Serious Sam, this game is highly recommended. I enjoyed the first installment so much that I played through a couple of times before moving onto the others. Unfortunately, I soon came to realize that none of the other games in the series, thus far, were nearly as good — but by then I had already gotten my money's worth.

As of one week from today, there will be half a dozen standalone games in the Painkiller series, plus one expansion to the original, but there still hasn't been a Painkiller 2, or anything which might resemble a proper sequel. Worse yet, none of the continuations I've played have been worthwhile. Painkiller Overdose, apparently a fan-made mod that eventually became an official stand-alone expansion, was decent, but a step down from the original. Painkiller: Resurrection, which attempted a more open-world experience, was sloppy, buggy, and generally awful. Painkiller: Redemption, another fan-made mod that was turned into an official release, more closely followed the style of the previous titles, and was more enjoyable, but it was more of the same, at best. This is also what I expect of Painkiller: Recurring Evil, which I have yet to play. Then there's Painkiller: Hell & Damnation, which comes out on Halloween day, and while it looks promising, it seems mostly to be a (much prettier) remake of the original game.

To make a long story short, I highly recommend getting the first Painkiller, usually sold with its expansion as Painkiller: Black Edition, as soon as it goes on sale. The rest of the series is questionable. You might want to buy the Complete Pack, if you really love old-school shooters, but if you're not sure, you should probably stick with the first one for now. It's a great game to play on Halloween, and while it's easy to pick up and play, it requires some serious practice to master. (You'll want to learn how to bunny-hop, constantly, at all times, forever. The alternative is frustration and death.)

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Retrospective: Ten Years of Insanity

There's a general consensus that Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem was, in some way, underrated. So many people say it, however, that I'm not sure if it could possibly be true. On top of that, the game's Metacritic score is fantastic. It seems to me that this Lovecraft-inspired GameCube-exclusive title was good enough to attract considerable praise, but wasn't quite popular enough to provoke a significant backlash of the hipster variety, the type that causes people to claim a record-breaking commercial success like Halo: Combat Evolved is the worst game ever made. In any case, the ratings themselves are above average, to say the least. If Eternal Darkness hasn't gotten what it deserves, it's not that it was underrated, but rather, I think, that it was underplayed. Maybe the game, though loved by critics, went underappreciated by the average player because it was too different. Or perhaps there was simply insufficient hype at the game's release. Indeed, when I found the game, some time later, it was by chance. Prior to playing it, I had never actually heard of it.

One night, I borrowed the game from a local movie rental outlet. Remember those? It seems they've long since become a relic of the past, replaced almost entirely by digital distribution and existing now only in the form of automated kiosks at supermarkets. My future children will never believe me when I tell them that entire buildings dedicated to renting out movies on physical media were once commonplace, and that the decent ones even had a section for video games. (On discs! With no DRM or DLC! Amazing!) Could Eternal Darkness really be so old?

Actually, yes. In fact, it came out in North America ten years ago this month. A full decade has passed since the release of what many would consider to be a masterpiece... and still no sequel. (The developer, Silicon Knights, instead spent too many years working on Too Human, a planned trilogy that ended up being a single game with mediocre reception.) There are currently some rumors of a sequel being developed for Wii U (along with some more rumors that the sequel, though never officially announced, has already been cancelled), but sequel-related rumors have been floating around at least since 2006, when Silicon Knights president Dennis Dyack claimed that a sequel to Eternal Darkness was a sure thing. That was six years ago, and none of the "news" since then has been concrete enough to get my hopes up. Nintendo did renew the trademark back in 2010, but U.S. trademarks need to be renewed every ten years anyway, so this might have been routine procedure. Until an official source hands out some official information, any speculation is misinformation and I refuse to participate.

In any case, I'm glad those rental stores were still around at the time, because otherwise I would have missed out on some neat games. I had no idea what to expect from Eternal Darkness, in particular, and I guess that was part of the fun. I only hoped it would be worth my time, and if it wasn't, wasting a few dollars on a bad rental would be worth the money I saved by not buying the damn thing. It was kind of a win-win situation, so I went with it.

As usual, I read through the instruction booklet before playing. I was a bit overwhelmed when I saw profiles for half a dozen characters, all from different historical eras, in the first few pages. (For some reason, only half of the playable characters were actually listed here, as if to let the player know the story is going to span two millennia while still withholding some nice surprises.) When I got to the page about sanity, I was intrigued, and cautiously optimistic; already, the whole concept of a sanity meter, alongside the ubiquitous health meter and the familiar (though oddly spelled) "magick" meter, seemed like a very original gimmick, but still a gimmick. I guess I still feel that way, to a certain extent.

The sanity meter is the game's defining feature, and you can't really describe the game without bringing it up. It hadn't been done before, and it hasn't been done the same way since, probably because Nintendo has a patent on it. The basic idea, as implemented in the game (though the patent makes it sound slightly cooler), was that a character's sanity would decrease when he or she encountered a monster — or, more specifically (and counter-intuitively), when the monster saw the character. (Shouldn't it be the other way around?) The character could then regain sanity by performing a finishing attack on a defeated monster. The most amusing aspect of the sanity system, in my opinion, is that your character would suffer a catastrophic loss of sanity if you went and killed an innocent bystander; in this case, delivering a finishing blow simply wouldn't do you any good.

When a character's sanity was low enough, things got weird. The camera would tilt, the walls would bleed, and you would start to hear crazy voices. Occasionally, full-blown hallucinations occurred, and while most of them involved the protagonists unexpectedly dying in hilarious ways, some of these hallucinations were an attempt to break the fourth wall, or to trick the player into thinking the game had malfunctioned. It was a clever way of making the player feel how the character felt — that he or she was going a bit mad. Throughout my first play-through, even when the game wasn't pretending that my television had just turned itself off, I had to wonder what was "real" and what was simply the result of the protagonist's deteriorating mental health. Few of these effects were likely to actually scare the player, but I'd never seen a more ambitious attempt at player immersion.

But the full-blown hallucinations usually ended with the character screaming, "this can't be happening!" — after which everything went back to normal, often returning the player to the previous room. (The game just isn't cruel enough to have these hallucinations actually affect your ability to win.) Strictly as a gameplay mechanic, the sanity meter was only a minor annoyance. You wouldn't lose for running out of "sanity," per se, but if the character would lose sanity while the sanity meter was empty, health was subtracted instead. Of course, this would rarely happen to a careful player. Impatient players, on the other hand, might tire of finishing off every defeated monster. This was, actually, a rather tedious task, since each finishing move would take a couple of seconds. And if you weren't quick enough, dead monsters would disintegrate on their own before you reached them, and you'd get none of that precious sanity back. At some point in the game, I did get tired of hitting the "Finish Him!" button; I was tempted to ignore it entirely, and instead rely exclusively on a spell which restored sanity in exchange for magick.

The game's magick system was almost as innovative as the sanity feature. At the very least, the potential was there, even though the execution was questionable. Different combinations of magickal runes, collected throughout the game, were combined to create different spells. With five "target" runes, five "effect" runes, four "alignment" runes, and an optional "power" rune to beef up any type of magick, the developers could have provided us with a fairly extensive list of spells. To be precise, assuming each target/effect combination were used, there could have been 25 distinct spell types. Instead, only 10 combinations were used, and while you could technically count 117 different spells if you were to separately consider each alignment rune and each acceptable number of power runes per spell, the complete spell list was still, in retrospect, a bit underwhelming. The player was even encouraged to try new rune combinations to discover spells, rather waiting for the game to reveal the correct recipes, but with only 10 acceptable target/effect combinations — and with many of the spells being revealed to the player as soon as the necessary runes were available — this wasn't quite as exciting as it sounds. The new spell feature was used mostly to create more powerful versions of spells you had already learned. [Spoilers in the video below.]


But perhaps, as a guy who has already beaten this game a dozen times, I'm being too demanding. Most of the spells that did exist in the game were pretty bad-ass, and they offered better ways to handle situations which might otherwise, to the unimaginative player, seem difficult. Playing the ninth chapter, arguably the scariest level in the game, I found myself facing a bunch of bonethieves — freakish, agile monsters that hide inside of human hosts and, if left without a host, try to crawl right down your throat. To defend myself, I had only guns (which are terrible for fighting bonethieves) and a photographer's flash pan (meant to temporarily blind enemies). Instead of fighting them myself, with my limited ammunition, I got rid of them by repeatedly summoning trappers — little crawly dudes that can teleport enemies to another dimension. It was the easy way out, but it was more fun stunning them with the flash pan and running like a coward until I found a proper weapon, which is probably what the developers intended.

The best you could ask for, in a linear game, is the ability to handle a given situation in a few different ways. That's why the plasmids in BioShock were so nice, and why the gravity gun in Half-Life 2 added some extra mileage to what otherwise would have been a straight-forward sci-fi shooter. Of course, I'd be lying if I told you that Eternal Darkness provided more than a couple of opportunities to diverge from its linear chain of puzzles, or that the combat — relatively open-ended though it might have been — was very good. But Eternal Darkness was, first and foremost, a psychological horror-themed puzzle game, not the type of game in which the combat itself was very important. Fortunately, it wasn't a big obstacle, either. In fact, most of the combat was so easy that brute force worked just fine — enchant your sword and start swinging, and you'd rarely go wrong — and if you ever did run into trouble, you just had to come up with another strategy, try different spells, and be more careful. The fighting itself was a bit clunky, and the ability to selectively target the limbs and heads of your enemies wasn't entirely as cool as it sounds, but it worked.

The way I see it, Eternal Darkness could have been a good supernatural horror even without the sanity features, since the magick system alone would have been enough to set it apart from the Resident Evil titles to which Eternal Darkness was so frequently and so unfairly compared. Perhaps it even could have been a decent puzzle-based survival horror without the magick, as well. Playing as a dozen different characters, with a variety of different weapons (from swords to fully automatic firearms), in a 2000-year struggle against the minions of ancient and all-powerful beings that transcend the physical realm and could squash the entire planet without breaking a sweat... well, that's a pretty good foundation for a psychological horror already. Add the spell creation system and sanity effects, and you have something truly special. The fact that the game is innovative in multiple ways makes it worth remembering, and worth replaying.

I ended up buying the game, twice — once because I loved it, and again because my first disc was scratched, which caused some skipping during the cutscenes. But that's what I get for buying a used copy. (Used games! Another soon-to-be relic of days gone by. The industry has almost succeeded in killing the used game market and I expect them to finish the job in the next couple of years. Apparently a used-game-buyer like me is just as bad as pirates or shoplifters in terms of "taking money away" from the developers. I doubt the poor condition of the disc was due to bad karma, though, since my second copy was also pre-owned, but in much better condition.)

Eternal Darkness is a very immersion- and story-driven game, and nothing more rudely breaks this immersion than dialogue that skips and stutters like a broken record, so having a scratched disc just drove me crazy. If you plan on getting your hands on a copy of this game, try to find one that's undamaged. It seems the game is already prone to occasional skipping in good condition, as it tends to drive the console somewhat bonkers, with the little motor in the disc drive pushing the laser back and forth rapidly during cutscenes and loading screens. At least, this is the case with both of my discs, and I've tried them on more than one GameCube as well as a Wii. I've heard similar complaints from other people, all of whom claim that Eternal Darkness is the only game that does this. Perhaps the game itself is possessed by some angry spirits.

None of this will matter to you if you plan on skipping all the cutscenes, but if you're playing a game like Eternal Darkness without paying any attention to the story, you're probably not enjoying it. Gameplay is always the most important aspect of a game, but the plot here is really a crucial part of what makes the game enjoyable. Even some of the vocal performances are pretty well done. [Spoilers in the video below.]


But there are also some rough spots, usually with the characters who don't have many lines. A particular conversation, between primary protagonist Alexandra Roivas and an unimportant supporting character, Inspector Legrasse of the Rhode Island State Police, is so far from believable that it's hard not to laugh, or cringe, or both. It's really a shame that this dialogue occurs right in the opening cinematic.


The fact that I wrote this much probably makes it a bit too obvious that Eternal Darkness is one of my favorite games despite its few shortcomings. I'm even a bit disappointed when people tell me they've never heard of it, but I wouldn't call it underrated. Underappreciated, maybe. But "underrated" is a worthless term, either way, since it conveys nothing but the fact that whoever uses the word is in disagreement with the critics; to say a game can actually be underrated (or overrated) implies that each game has an objective amount of goodness, some sort of inherent rating, that must be compared to the critical reception it receives. In other words, it's a way of saying that everyone else is wrong. And in this case, considering all the positive reviews, I think it's simply untrue that the game was underrated in the slightest. Although it might have deserved a bit more popularity in its own time, it's remembered as one of the best GameCube titles a decade later, and that's something.