Been a few rounds since my last post, so I figured it’s time to cobble something together on two recently released and very broadly related games from last week– in the same way grey wolves are broadly related to labradoodles– Outlast 2 and What Remains of Edith Finch.
Back in January the GDC announced their 2017 game award nominees and I went through a few of the categories, going over the games I thought would win in each as well as the ones I thought should in fact win. Yesterday the actual winners were announced, so now it is time of course to recap, see how I fared in retrospect, and give my final thoughts in the aftermath.
It’s been slightly over a week since Resident Evil 7: Biohazard released, shipping 2.5 million copies in that time, and all I have to say is- goddamned right. Headshots off to Capcom for finally giving us a Resident Evil that returns to its survival horror origins. RE7 is a triumph, taking a spot in the higher tier of the series’ long and sometimes shaky history. But make no mistake, RE7 simultaneously recaptures its former glory and capitalizes on more modern conventions in the best way.
The GDC recently announced its nominees for its 2017 awards, which will be held March 1. Separate from simply The Game Awards back in December, one can perhaps argue the GDCAs are more ‘prestigious’ although I think that’s somewhat of a false dichotomy. They share many of the same games, and I’m fairly certain I can predict what will win vs. what games I think should’ve actually won in a number of categories, and as is my wont, I shall do so now.
[Spoilers for Westworld Season 1]
Westworld drew the curtain on its opening season the other week (in a rather dramatic and devastating manner) and we covered some of the interesting philosophical implications contained in it on our review. Throughout the season and leading up the finale, there were also a great many things written, said, theorized and discussed about the show and its intricacies. While all of these subjects are certainly pertinent and intellectually pleasing to ponder, I wanted to explore a specific one that we touched on but didn’t delve into all that much, and tie it into videogaming as encapsulated by the above quote spoken by a young William in his first visit to Westworld. A while back on Syntax Error, we raised a number of open ended questions attached to how Virtual Reality technology will actually affect us in various ways once we assume it is possible to achieve.
Although never outright stated, to me it was somewhat implied that in the world of the show, outside of the park itself, the rest of the population’s entertainment is something like the highest possible level of currently available real world at-home VR. The masses have their console equivalents to satisfy their gaming hobby, meanwhile, only the upper echelon of wealthy elite can afford a trip to Westworld itself. If we are to believe what the show tells us, then early on it’s stated that a vacation at Westworld costs 40k a day, and that was ostensibly 30-some years prior to the present events of the plot. So extrapolating on that as a basis, one can conclude that a trip there is very costly indeed. Which is amusing in the sense that, in this setting, what is essentially live action role playing (or LARPing as often used in negative context in our modern times, thought to be only enacted by the hardiest of hardcore nerds) has become the purview of the privileged, professional few.
The idea of Westworld seems to be the next logical step up from what I’ll call “day-to-day” VR; a real life simulation populated by fully functioning lifelike synthetic beings in a carefully programmed world within which there are no lasting consequences for actions taken by any given human guest of the park. William, and we viewers, see this in the nature of the lives that the android “hosts” of Westworld live out. The NPCs are as real as can be in this place. As William initially becomes infatuated and even starts a relationship with one of the attractive hosts, Dolores, he finds himself drawn into the world more and more until eventually it becomes “more real” than his outside life.
Thus, over time, the naive, sympathetic, well-meaning character of William turns into the ominous and callous Man in Black after coming to a revelation “among the dead” about what kind of person he discovered himself to be. As his former friend Logan observes after witnessing his transformation, “I told you this place would show you who you really are.” At that moment he, and we, truly experience the potential this type of scenario has and what paths it may lead one down.
William goes on to create his own identity and character, remarking 30 years down the line to the designer of the entire endeavour, Dr. Ford, that he always felt the park to be lacking a “real villain,” hence his own “humble contribution.” It’s additionally revealed that his real-world wife later committed suicide after discovering what he was really up to on all those “business” trips to the park that he convinced his company to buy. If that wasn’t the breaking point before, it surely was after, as he relays the tale of his decision to commit a “truly” evil act; that of murdering a host child in front of her mother, Maeve (whose own arc is interesting in and of itself but is not the focus here) in an attempt to feel again in the wake of that loss. The audience has now shared the ride with William and saw where he was led by the rules, or lack thereof, allowed by Westworld throughout his life.
By this point, he has seen and done almost all there is to do; encountered every narrative adventure (read: side quest) and terrorized the hosts in whatever manner his whims decided. He owns the park and knows every trick in it, save one-“The Maze.” William has since become obsessed with searching for another, deeper (and perhaps humorously as I took it– attempting to unlock a final difficulty setting) level to the game that he thinks is hidden under the surface, one in which there are consequences and real danger for the guests of the park. He never finds it of course, as the Maze is simply a metaphor for the hosts gaining self-awareness and actualizing their own consciousness. It might even be argued he has perhaps helped Dolores to unlock her own maze, and consequently unwittingly found himself in the center of it. Her self-actualization has, in fact, made it so ‘there are consequences and real danger for the guests’. Nevertheless, William has already found the center to his personal maze, and in fact cannot escape it.
The greater issue is that William could be any of us. He mentions to Dolores that business is booming in the park, implying a high demand for the experience. It is therefore the slipperiest of slopes, for if/when (more likely “when”) we are presented with such a world/scenario en masse, it inevitably will raise the questions of who or what we would turn into if we could get away with murder, etc. without repercussions. Would we view the victims of our dark deeds as less than human, seduced by the illusion only to find out they are actually more human…than human, while all the while we were conditioned to be something… less than a man? The answer remains to be seen of course, but as it approaches faster than ever, I for one eagerly await to see what the “Westworld” of our era will be, because whatever it may resemble, that place will be the future.
– Scott Thurlow
The Game Awards for 2016 were announced earlier today, so it’s time to take a look at the winners in a few of the categories I’m particularly interested in. I’m going to just focus on those specific ones, but you can check out the full list here.
The big one, Game of the Year, went to Overwatch. Cool, I suppose. Haven’t played a single second of it nor am I planning to do so, thus I can’t really comment on the game itself (and also can’t use the throwaway joke of it being Over-rated. Er, wait…) Instead, looking at the list of other nominees, I think it was sort of a weak field Over-all (that’s better.) From among those that did get a nod, I would’ve chosen DOOM. However, this will be covered more fully when Syntax Error returns in the coming season and we list off our own picks for top games of 2016.
Overwatch also took Best Game Direction, which is like winning best picture and best director, so no real surprise there either. My personal pick from the games in that field would be Uncharted 4 (even given my issues with it) although again I think a few other games are woefully absent from the list. Speaking of though, Uncharted 4 did take Best Narrative, but the trend continues, as excepting Firewatch, there wasn’t much competition in the category.
DOOM did manage to secure a nice double kill by taking both Best Action Game and Best Sound/Music, and deservedly so. Shooting demons from hell is indeed made all the better for having a hardcore metal-ish soundscape to accompany the slaughter, and that my friends is action which goes to 11. Good choice, VGAs.
Next up is Best Performance, where Uncharted 4 returns as perennial fan favorite Nolan North gets the win for his swansong role voicing Nathan Drake. Fine again, sure, he’s always solidly reliable, but there were also two other actors from U4 up for this one, as well as two from Firewatch. Although to be fair, there were only two actual characters in that game. Still, my choice would’ve been Cissy Jones for her subtle but charming portrayal of Delilah in it.
Best Independent Game is always a good one, and probably has the strongest field of picks within. While I do think Hyper Light Drifter should’ve gotten it easily, I can also see why Inside actually did, and judge it to be mostly acceptable.
The final two categories of interest to me are Best Action/Adventure and Best RPG. I’ve always found it a bit odd that ‘action’ and ‘action/adventure’ are separate, but I’ll roll with it, since a game which I greatly enjoyed takes top spot: Dishonored 2. Definitely worthy. Hyper Light Drifter gets, I won’t say snubbed, because I don’t think it was better than D2, just that I would’ve liked to see it win one of the things it was up for.
Finally, Best RPG went to Blood & Wine, the final DLC from The Witcher 3. A bit strange for a DLC from this year that was for a game from last year to a) be nominated as its own game apparently, and b) win while being attached to the original game which itself already won a host of 2015 awards, including Game of the Year. Some Geralt-style Axii magic going on it seems. To be clear, I did also vote W3 best game last year, and Blood & Wine was fantastic, but here is where I’ll call snubbery, as Deus Ex: Mankind Divided was in the running for this one and should’ve absolutely gotten it instead. Maybe without the above mentioned weird loophole, it would’ve.
Anyway, there you have my pretentious take on (some of) the official awards for 2016. As I mentioned at the start, stay tuned for season 3 of Syntax Error where we’ll kickoff by doing our own list. In the meantime, you can check our 2015 choices, and may all your bullets/arrows/knives/magic missiles find a rival head to rest in.
-Scott Thurlow
The Order: 1886 was the catalyst for our first podcast, but it certainly wasn’t the first time I’ve heard the argument. Does the length of a game impact its value? Or is it what is packed in – the gameplay, the narrative, the art, the soundtrack — that ultimately defines what that game is worth? Of course, it’s a tough question, and if you read reviews about any mass media, it’s one that you’ll hear repeated over and over again. Read More
(Contains spoilers)
The Uncharted series came to a close earlier this year with the release of the fourth title in the series, A Thief’s End. Developer Naughty Dog stated that this is the definitive conclusion to the story of smarmy pretty boy treasure hunter/Indiana Jones Academy of Archaeology graduate, Nathan Drake, and his band of recurring allies. After 9 years of globetrotting and fortune-seeking, bullets and bullion, the adventure is over as we drift off with Drake into the sunset. Or something like it.
I thought I’d take this as an opportunity to go over the overarching story, character and plot points contained in each game and evaluate how effectively (or not in some cases) they work as a narrative whole. While the series overall has been lauded for being if not the first, then probably the most high-profile to incorporate “cinematic” and like elements into gaming, it is also noted for the general high quality of its writing and character portrayal. Certainly it deserves credit on this front. The caliber of the cast for the main protagonists and supporting roles are some of the most noteworthy and talented in the business. Veteran and perennial fan-favorite Nolan North supplies Drake’s trademark mix of bravado, charm, and wit, playing off other fantastic actors like Emily Rose (Drake’s on/off again journalist girlfriend and eventual wife, Elena) and Richard McGonagle (his “I’m too old for this shit” mentor, Victor “Sully” Sullivan.) It’s a fairly classic action trio setup, but because of the above talent and combined with the deft writing of original lead and creative director, Amy Hennig and her team, it comes off as more than just a rehash of cliches and tropes.
Where the first game, Drake’s Fortune, offered an introduction to the characters and world, it was still an early iteration of what the franchise would become. The scope was ambitious at the time, but in hindsight compared to the next couple titles, it seems a bit more narrow. Not to say this is a mark against it, but due to the march of time and technology, it plays like a simpler, or at least smaller scale version of the entries to follow it. Nevertheless, it served as the template and framework to lay the ground for the adventures to come. The characters were well-drawn and realized, while the gameplay was perfectly serviceable within the genre. Both combined to establish a base which left many players waiting for the promise of future tales to be fulfilled as soon as possible.
Which brings us to Uncharted 2: Among Thieves, widely regarded as the best of the batch (an opinion I also share) for taking the formula of the original and improving upon almost every angle. Among Thievesintroduced stealth, streamlined combat, and made the exploration/puzzle-solving more accessible without dumbing any of it down. Realizing these are more gameplay mechanic related than narrative, I do want to explore one of them a bit and attempt to tie them together:
Although the ‘puzzles’ in general have been criticized as being overly simplified, I think that is actually a smartly integrated purposeful design choice as applied to Drake’s character. As mentioned, the series very much wants to impart the feeling of being an Indiana Jones type hero to the player, and if solving puzzles became too tedious or obtuse, then neither they nor Drake would come off feeling as the accomplished intrepid explorer he is set up to be. It makes sense that he, and thus we, should be able to fairly easily solve the elaborate contraptions while en route to the X at the end of the trail.
Beyond all this, the character interactions and dynamics were strengthened and solidified, the motion capture was as lifelike as possible, all producing a tightly woven core story while expanding the scope of the locales and pushing the rendering capabilities of the PS3 at the time; never before had such a story been so fully realized in games with so much believability, style, and satisfaction. Uncharted had come into its own, managing to elevate the ‘third person action’ genre and medium in general.
The third entry, Drake’s Deception, I believe is where the series begins to show the cracks in its facade. It introduces some backstory between a young Drake and burgeoning Sully, showcasing their meeting and partnership formation. Which is my issue, as it is never really explored past the point of superficiality and in service to set up the first set-piece of the game. Meanwhile the main villain, Katherine Marlowe, very shortly comes off as one-dimensional, a standard Bond-villain with less facets and interesting motivations than previous antagonists like Lazarević and Harry Flynn.
Compounding this, side characters like Chloe Frazer and Charlie Cutter are (re)introduced and subsequently dropped midway through the plot, without their presence or absence really affecting much in the end. It’s as if they were obliged to be included, but then overstayed their welcome and had no more room to fill in the plot. In Charlie’s case he is literally shipped on a bus never to be seen again. It comes off as patchwork and haphazard. The gameplay is still solid, but as I am focusing on narrative, I am compelled to point out the above shortcomings.
Which is why by the time we come to the the fourth and final game, A Thief’s End, the plot starts to feel more uneven than ever (arguably due in part to Hennig’s departure from the studio). It attempts to introduce an entirely new character never before mentioned in the previous games, who is ostensibly important to Drake and his history, while simultaneously retconning the reason he was completely absent until this point. Troy Baker, another ubiquitous voice actor, does as good a job as ever as Samuel Drake, Nate’s only slightly less cocky older brother. The problem is that he was never part of the cannon prior, so the feeling as if he’s shoehorned in in order to drive this plot setup is more glaring than ever. Sam supposedly spent the last 15 years in a third-world prison after Drake thought he was killed on an earlier adventure. Now he’s come back because…they needed to make a fourth game, I guess? Drake, now married to Elena, subsequently lies to her about his plans to set off one more time with Sam to find the legendary pirate treasure they dreamt about in their youth. Everything about this is glossed over at best and essentially hand-waved at worst.
Then, about the halfway point, it’s revealed that Sam lied to Drake about his earlier escape from prison because…I’m not really sure, other than again to have forced dramatic split to set up the third act. The plot then aggressively accelerates in a sprint to the end, culminating in the obligatory QTE boss battle and all the characters reconciling in the aftermath, happily ever after. Finally, the epilogue to A Thief’s End has us play a brief chapter as Cassandra, Drake and Elena’s tween daughter who stumbles upon their history as treasure hunting swashbucklers. Realizing they might as well let her in on the family secret, Drake and Elena agree to finally reveal to her their storied past uncovering ancient hidden cities and duking it out with various militias, as Drake starts outlining the details of the first game before the credits start to roll. A fine ending, a little touching and heartwarming perhaps (for those who still have hearts) and wraps things up quickly. It’s just by this point, it also feels forced and abrupt, a microcosm of the entire plot itself. It ends the series on a flat note, a bit wanting in my narrative opinion.
Still, the series must be given its due for attempting and many times succeeding greatly at elevating the quality of storytelling in AAA titles. And perhaps if it’s ever decided to revive the franchise, it could be titled Drake’s Descendents, starring his great-great grandchildren and take place in a post-apocalyptic future where the goal is to uncover the lost and destroyed city of New York, or some such. Naughty Dog– I’m available!
-Scott Thurlow
It was recently announced that after just over a year of release, SOMA has sold 450,000 copies. Originally released in September 2015 by Frictional Games, SOMA attempts to grapple with an ancient yet timeless slice of unsettling metaphysics, via the viewpoint of a layman encountering it for perhaps the first time. The central conceit confronts the player with the dual questions of: “What is it to exist?” and “What is the sense of self-identity that we seem to experience and how does it relate to our greater reality?” Pared down to its base form, the issue might be stated as the struggle to define who or what we really are.
While Frictional (and others to be sure—see also Ether One by White Paper Games) have touched upon variations of these themes previously, they usually did so in a much narrower, personalized focus. The most affecting elements of ‘horror’ broadly in SOMA (and to an extent Amnesia, etc.) are more on the side of a vague but pervasive existential dread that one leaves off with upon completion. It is not actually the plots themselves that are unnerving (though parts of them can be, depending on the personality of the player) but rather, I argue, it is the overall implications of the issues addressed in them that are where the true horror aspects originate and that resonate most. Oftentimes this is more forcefully experienced in retrospect, after the final credits have faded and the player has time to digest everything they’ve just witnessed and experienced.
To its credit, SOMA works to actively recognize this fact, (as the developers themselves stated was their intent) and in a large way depends upon it for its effectiveness. The trappings of a traditional survival-horror/sci-fi atmosphere in SOMA serve as a sort of arena in which the questions raised in the introduction are allowed to insidiously creep into both the main character Simon Jarrett, and player’s thoughts as the plot progresses. At times perhaps mirroring those thoughts in some of its plot elements, without over-emphasizing and thus smothering the player with them. It allows the various implications and facets of the original concerns to slowly become the main antagonist, rather than that of the bio-mechanical/Lovecraftian menace of its more traditional monsters and creatures, which in the long run are simply environmental obstacles to overcome in the same way solving the puzzles necessary to progress are.
The game aims to nudge the player into a deeper, more realized exploration of the grander concepts, while offering no hard answers, since, to the best of human knowledge, they are open (and often intensely debated) concerns. And that in itself is notable. That it is able to more subtly do this within the constraints of contemporary games, in my opinion, elevates SOMA to a higher tier within the medium as a whole.
Other games have certainly reached for similar heights, and have come close to capturing this sense. It must be mentioned that SOMA elicited a variety of comparisons to Bioshock upon release. [Polygon has an opinion piece that’s a pretty good read] And though valid, I posit that there is really only one major element they share of note and import to the medium. I don’t wish to idly compare and contrast as that would seem a disservice to both games, so allow me to simply gloss over the main resemblances: Yes, SOMA takes place largely in an abandoned/ruined underwater complex and yes, there is a sort of ‘twist’ that is perpetrated upon the player character, and ostensibly, the player themselves. And sure, some (but not all) of the creature designs in SOMA resemble Bioshock’s iconic Big Daddies. All of these amount to mostly superficial similarities. What I think is more significant about both games is their intent to confront players with an interesting if not disturbing train of thought and allow for them to absorb it within the context of their own views as well as those considerations present in the plots of each. So, whilst Bioshock asks players first and foremost what it means to possibly have free will, SOMA asks what it means to have a conscious identity (free or otherwise) in general.
It seems natural to me that one must come before the other and certainly SOMA owes a debt to Bioshock as well as a handful of other precursors before it; Rome was neither built nor destroyed in a day. But I do firmly believe SOMA thus marks an important evolution for games that are committed to integrating truly troubling issues that humanity has not, and possibly cannot ever fully reconcile. In fact in some some way featuring those issues as the true ‘star’ of its story, with all of the other elements contained within it being incidental vehicles to achieve the goal of imparting an ‘existential horror’ experience. The real monsters in SOMA are not the shambling, rusting hulks reanimated by the WAU in PATHOS-II any more than Fontaine or Ryan are the real villains in Rapture. Rather, the impact comes from the haunting questions that one is forced to face when reflecting on the nature of oneself as a whole. Beyond struggling with whether one is indeed a man or a slave, one must then ask what it means to be able to ask that question at all. This is the strength of SOMA, and given the sales numbers it’s now achieved, hopefully is a sign that further notice and attention will be paid to it as a guideline for incorporating such thorny topics within games in the future.
-Scott Thurlow
In the latest batch of ‘casts, we covered three topics in games that are broadly related–the ethics of betrayals, morality choices, and empathy-inducing characters/moments. We discussed the effectiveness, or lack thereof, of many instances of each, and why we thought some worked while others fell flat. Each of us had a number of examples that were, if not impactful, at least memorable for some particular reason.
However, an integral related issue, and touched upon variously, is the highly subjective nature of all three elements. What is ‘moral’ to one may not be to another, and likewise for the other two subjects. Syntax Error attempts to focus on the oft under-explored philosophical angles of such considerations, filtered through the narrative of games. But in the case for these, because of the fact that individuals will be affected on wildly different scales, it becomes much more of a tangle than it would normally. It is a Sisyphean task to attempt to invoke feelings about something or someone to whom one has little to no connection or feelings for. Conversely, something which is greatly affecting for one may be met with apathy in another. Because there is no ‘absolute’ set of right/wrong codes (despite perhaps the many attempts over the course of history to impose such), these considerations will by necessity be relative to any given situation or set of circumstances.
I myself have been accused of being (to put it lightly) ‘amoral.’ And my usual counter-argument is that philosophically and logically, that is the only way one can be, at least according to me. Mayhaps that indeed makes me a monster. Nevertheless, that is how I approach video games. Additionally, because games are, at the end of the day, merely a proxy, then the mechanisms become further removed from reality when confronting them within an artificial setting. Since there are no concrete consequences to the actions chosen or disregarded within a given game, the burden of invoking impact lies almost as much with how willing the player is to suspend their disbelief as with the content of the game itself.
Ultimately, which elements in a game are affecting and to what degree, will always be relative in some measure to the individual player that is experiencing them. So it is, and so it will ever be. I think it’s important to both recognize the mutable nature of a game’s components, and at the same time–as a much greater philosopher than I once said–to Know Thyself. So that the next time a game (or other medium) attempts to manipulate your mindset, it may be possible to see how, and why it succeeds, or fails, in doing so.
-Scott Thurlow
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