A Fair Colp: BioShock Infinite’s Violence Has Something to Say

This column was originally posted on SideQuesting.com.

Credit goes to Steven Strom (who also has his own column here on SideQuesting every week) for coming up with the title for my new column. I don’t have a mission statement for A Fair Colp, it’s simply a way for me to publish what I’ve been thinking about every week, whether it’s like today’s critique of BioShock Infinite’s violence, a rant, or something else. The goal isn’t to be definitive, but to add to the general discourse about games.

BioShock Infinite is one of those games that makes you feel like you should write something about it. I feel that way about a lot of games. I’m always sifting through my experience, looking for ideas to pluck out and form into a topic. Usually, I wait too long and my opinion becomes expressed across several different reviews and critiques. I often take the easy way out and point to them instead of writing my own. But games like BioShock Infinite feel like they could be discussed for a long time, just as the first BioShock has been. BioShock Infinite is a game I’m still thinking about, still distracting me while I’m playing other games. This is rare. The last game to have this effect on me was Spec Ops: The Line.

Leigh Alexander wrote the first piece that nails what I think many people are criticizing BioShock Infinite for. She says it all with this: “It has something to say, certainly. It just says more about its own self than about the ideas it wanted to explore.” She’s talking about the game’s use of violence as a core mechanic, and how despite all the strong themes it seems to want to discuss, all of them are muted under the sound of gunfire and growling.

She’s right. BioShock Infinite has so much nuance in its narrative that when you find yourself shooting rockets at ghosts and twisting heads off in the middle of combat, you wonder what the game could have been without all the action. My typical routine was to kill all the enemies in a level as fast as possible, as mindlessly as possible, and then to walk around the environment, piecing together its story. My favorite parts of the game were not the shooting bits, but moments where Columbia stood still and I got to run around and gawk at all the detail.

At the same time, I don’t support the argument that BioShock Infinite should have been a four- to six-hour-long narrative trip like Dear Esther. Yes, the first 45 minutes or so are wonderful. It’s a brave introduction for a triple-A action game, but I can’t see where the game’s drama would come from in what would essentially be a theme park. Now, set this fictional game after Columbia has fallen and I might be interested. In doing that, though, you would be creating something very similar to the first BioShock, which is where the no combat argument makes a lot more sense to me.

I don’t think that’s the story Irrational Games wanted to tell. I believe in some ways, or at least for a short time, the violence in BioShock Infinite communicates how brainwashed Columbia really is. The people of Columbia fight for their beliefs. They’re afraid of Booker, afraid of someone questioning everything their city is built on. In Rapture, you felt isolated by the thick glass and the miles of sea above you, here, it’s the people. The raffle scene with the couple is the first hint that Columbia isn’t all beauty and ambition. It was just as unsettling for me as the opening moments of the first BioShock, only it said everything I needed to know in the span of a few seconds, in broad daylight, surrounded by non-violent characters.

And when the first blood is shed, it’s shocking, then Columbia’s true colors start to show. Before the action begins to feel unnecessary, you’re explicitly shown what ignorance and fear can bring someone to do. It makes you think. It makes you realize how wrong everything is in Columbia.

I’m glad BioShock Infinite isn’t the indie game some wish it could be. When I briefly worked in retail last year, I tried my best to get people to play Spec Ops: The Line. I told the people looking for something like Call of Duty to give it a try, and when I told them the game actually had something to say about killing other people, it’s like I woke them up. A few of them were intrigued enough to take it home that day.

I think the use of violence in games needs to be questioned, both by players and the games themselves. I also think it’s something we have to ease into. People like me, who play a lot of games, often get stuck in the idea that every game needs to be wildly inventive and to say something profound about the medium, and it’s true, those are typically the games I like the most, but we need bigger games that are smart too. BioShock Infinite doesn’t have good excuses for most of its violence. But I’d rather have more games like BioShock Infinite, showing players that games can say something, to make them think about the violence, rather than another voiceless Call of Duty.

My Top 10 Games of 2012

10. Spec Ops: The Line

I respect Spec Ops: The Line for what it wants to say about modern, military shooters, despite the troubles it goes through to convey it. It takes a little effort to peel back its layers, but once you do, its intelligence really shines. I never want to play Spec Ops: The Line again. It’s not fun, and it makes you feel bad about yourself. It’s an overall unpleasant experience. But I think it can be all that, and still be just as meaningful, if not more, than most other games this year.

9. The Darkness 2

I almost forgot The Darkness 2 existed, let alone came out this year. As much as I hate the term “quad-wielding,” it’s the best way to describe what it feels like to control two shadowy creatures along with two guns. You form a mechanical bond with the tools at your fingertips as you whip and tear dudes in half. There’s a distinct sense of speed as you lay waste to those who oppose you. It’s a controlled frenzy of blood and bullets. The quiet moments between Jackie and his girlfriend are good too. They’re intimate for the sake of being intimate. I kept expecting some weird twist or explosion to happen at the end of those scenes, but they didn’t, and I liked that.

8. Asura’s Wrath

Asura’s Wrath is hard to explain without making it sound like the worst thing ever. It’s a Japanese, episodic, quick time event game. You’ll watch it like a television show, and press buttons to keep it going. The small amount of gameplay makes room for the gigantic, planet-sized action that unfolds. It’s absurd enough to make your forget you’re just following the game’s instructions the entire time. If it weren’t so self-aware, Asura’s Wrath could have been terrible. But it isn’t, and it’s one of the most surprisingly good games this year.

7. Far Cry 3

Far Cry 3 is the first game I played on my newly-built PC. It was my entry into modern PC gaming, and proof that I could put together a bunch of electronics to make a working machine. After you get past how beautiful Far Cry 3 is, you realize how great it is to be dropped on an island, alone, with a gun. This all became clear to me after a few hours of playing. I was atop one of the games watch towers, overlooking what seemed like the entire island, lush foliage, flowing grass, and all, when the faint roar of a tiger in mid-leap rumbled through my headset. Looking down, I watched as a tiger mauled a group of bandits on patrol. One of them was not just any ordinary bandit. No, he was a armored, Molotov cocktail-throwing bandit. He wasn’t equipped with a gun. So what did he do? He resorted to his only weapon of choice, and set the a portion of the jungle on fire, killing both himself and the tiger in a fiery death. I zip-lined down into the charred remains and continued on my quest to save my girlfriend. You should play Far Cry 3.

6. Halo 4

I’m a sucker for Halo games. Always have been. Before playing Halo 4, I realized I had literally grown up with the Master Chief and Cortana, and the idea of seeing them again made me nervous. Would Halo still be the game I remembered so fondly, or had nostalgia clouded my memory? Turns out, Halo 4 is still the Halo I once loved. Sure, it’s more of the same. But that’s what I wanted. Halo remains an anomaly in the first-person shooter space, and it’s still an absolute blast to play.

5. Mass Effect 3

Mass Effect 3 is a testament to investment in video game fiction. Few games warrant the amount of criticism it received. You can’t end a trilogy that attempts to encompass millions of players’ choices without pissing off a few thousand people — and I think that’s great. Ultimately, Mass Effect 3 handles the expectations well, offering a solid playing game wrapped up in an impactful narrative.

4. Dishonored

I hate stealth games. It’s the demand for precision that ruins it for me. When I stumbled out of the darkness in Dishonored the fun didn’t stop. It gave me a chance to climb over its barriers, make mistakes, and adapt to its stealth system without punishment. Before long, I was completing missions as a ghost, and manipulating the world from the shadows. I’d also like to award Blink my Ability Of The Year Award, it’s sometimes hilarious, and endlessly useful. I could live without those damn acid-shooting plants, though.

3. The Walking Dead

I love that The Walking Dead embraces its strengths and never looks back. I loved how deep it dug into my moral depths, and didn’t shy away from confronting me with my mistakes. There’s nothing clean about my playthrough, about how things ended. But I’d never change it, and that, I think, is the true power of The Walking Dead.

2. Journey

Journey is an exercise in video game puppetry. It pulls the strings on your emotions with a well-rehearsed grace no other game has performed. It’s dazzling to look at, and at times, you forget it’s a video game. Coupled with its study of anonymous interaction, Journey is an experience worth having.

1. Fez

As part of the generation of players who missed the era before games had tutorials, I latched onto Fez’s alien world. Below its indie charm lies a glitchy, cryptic underside I couldn’t stop myself from slipping into. All the message boards and failed attempts to crack the game’s final puzzle made me feel like a part of some kind of secret society of video game hackers. If anything, the scribbled symbols and ciphers on this notebook paper are proof Fez is pretty rad.

The Backlog: Asura’s Wrath

Circle button broken, fist in air, and a smile on my face: I finished Asura’s Wrath. It’s devotion to itself, absurd and ridiculous as it is, warrants some kind of appreciation. Like Saints Row: The Third, I like a self-aware game, however subtle, or blatant, it may be. It’s a rare trait, and one that is difficult to pull off.

While Saints Row: The Third felt like it was one step away from sitting down and having a chat with me, Asura’s Wrath would take a very precise moment to turn toward me and wink. In the moments of steadily increasing chaos, it teased me as I wondered when we’d hit the cap of insanity. Flawlessly, it kept the answer to my question hidden away until I was ready for it.

It’s attitude toward giving me the unexpected was a taunt. Back and forth, I fought to see what it would toss at me next. We were butting heads to see which one of us would give, and by the end, we were holding hands. The final moments were a triumph in partnership. I knew what to expect, and it knew what to give.

Games have a choice to ignore the connection with a player, they can feel like routine. It’s not always a bad thing, sometimes I want to play solo. It’s why I can drone out to a podcast with World of Warcraft, or dig for hours in Minecraft.

Every so often a game comes around that wants to become buddies, that wants to play with me. Asura’s Wrath did it without excellent writing, a barrage of jokes, or a mute protagonist, but a relentless battle of exaggeration.

Fit to Print: Uncharted 2: Among Thieves Review

What, you’ve already read this before? Well, first of all, thank you, and second, yeah, I know. I’m going back through my previous work and sprucing it up, making it a little more legible. It’s probably more self-indulgent than it is appealing to you, but I need to get better at editing, and I thought, hey, I have all this (sometimes embarrassing) work to use! Enjoy it or skip it, I won’t be offended!

This weekend I played a theatrical movie, and its name is Uncharted 2: Among Thieves. Moments in, you’ll feel the plethora of cinematic qualities tucked inside the game that are unlike thousands of others before it. Almost instantaneously after pressing the tradional “start” button you’re left in control of the most enjoyable fortune-hunter I’ve ever seen.

Nathan Drake has been betrayed, and now he sits in a derailed train car with a bloody wound above his hip. Unbeknownst to him, the abandoned car is a few feet away from sliding off a cliff somewhere in the Himalayas. When Drake quickly becomes aware of his imminent doom, he begins to assess his options. This is one of the many moments where the game flawlessly converts from cutscene to gameplay. Immediately the train lurches even further off of the cliff and causes Drake to descend closer to his ominous fall. Luckily, Drake still has enough in him to grab onto the door jutting out from the back of the car. From there you must lead him further up to the top of the cliff, and eventually make the final, life-saving jump. Once you arrive on safe ground, I guarantee you will breath a sigh of relief simultaneously with the game’s protagonist.

Events like these are scattered throughout Uncharted 2, making the game thrilling and very intense at times. From dodging a pursuing helicopter in a office building that is exploding with you’re inside it, to nearly escaping death from a hulking tank following you through a village; Uncharted 2 doesn’t let you go until the very end. Naughty Dog implemented unique actions depending on Drake’s current situation that create a sense of realism that I have yet to see in a video game. The firefights make for visceral events etched into the game’s masterful tale. While the weapons are the general variety, each firearm felt distinct while running from cover-to-cover, trying to flank the oncoming swarm of enemies.

With that in mind, the game hurts itself in smaller areas. I found myself constantly sticking to a wall for cover while an oncoming RPG was hurdling my way. Trying to jump frantically off of a cliff caused some deaths because Drake felt the need to hold onto the ledge often too long. Even battling in train cars cause some unnecessary deaths due to the imaginary glue on the walls. Ocassional frustrating scenarios like these were annoying, but they couldn’t ruin a game of this value.

The men and women who contributed their voice talents for the game (notably: Nolan North) should be honored. Each cutscene was presented in the most amazing in-game graphics to date, along with superb voice-acting. Not o mention the story feels like it was stolen from a multi-million dollar movie script. It’s clear in the narrative, Naughty Dog developed the gameplay directly alongside it. You constantly feel as if you are the actor in a magnificent tale.

A video game cannot offer more that what is delivered in Uncharted 2. Every aspect of it left me astonished. Before purchasing a PlayStation 3 Uncharted 2 was one of the games I was looking forward to. All I can say is buy this game. Trust me, you won’t regret it.

What did I change? You can read the original review here.

The Backlog: Bioshock

Heralded for its atmosphere and twisted characters, Bioshock is a highly concentrated game. Every desk, every suitcase, and every trashcan holds small morsels of the underwater city’s tragic descent. Exploration and discovery are heavily contrasted by the frantic combat, thus making it very difficult to focus on both. Rapture is a dark place, so dark like the gritty, black games of that era in gaming; it’s almost becoming a period piece. The wonder of the initial experience is gone, now it’s routine.

Entering the world of Bioshock four years after its seat in the spotlight, it feels desolate and lonely. It’s as if the inhabitants of Rapture have been performing their patterns for nearly half a decade, exhausted and angry. They have to keep re-applying fresh blood, smearing drywall dust, and fastening those white masks to their faces. All in service of a curious guest seeking to hear the story once again.

The little sisters, they’re angry, forced to stay young and attached to those slow-moving monsters waiting for an excuse to pummel something. The helmeted monsters and the young girls don’t talk anymore. They’ve seen each other fail time and time again. “Big Daddy” no more, he wishes one day the sister won’t be there, freeing him to remove that metal can and lie down, maybe rest for awhile. She is aimless now, no father-figure to guide her. Both of them are now broken and without an appetite.

Even Andrew Ryan himself is tired. He’s growing old, he finds it harder to hold down the button on his intercom, he contemplated ending his life before his last moment of human contact. He’s fake, he doesn’t run Rapture anymore, nobody does. He has nothing to condemn or punish anymore, everything goes as planned.

The denizens of Rapture are distant, numbed by the job. Their actions show no confidence or exertion. They know the line is drawn without any forks, what was to change? An immense weight slowed their motivation, constantly wondering when their time would come. “Can we stop?” they would ask with their unwavering stares. But no one would answer.

Bioshock isn’t the world it used to be. All has been said, seeping every drop of significance out of it. It’s better to read about its glory days rather than to spend time with it. Without nostalgia for it, Bioshock is a dying machine on its last burst of electricity. One can only imagine what it was like, not what it is.

Image courtesy of Dead End Thrills

Fit to print: Halo 3: ODST Review

What, you’ve already read this before? Well, first of all, thank you, and second, yeah, I know. I’m going back through my previous work and sprucing it up, making it a little more legible. It’s probably more self-indulgent than it is appealing to you, but I need to get better at editing, and I thought, hey, I have all this (embarrassing) work to use! Enjoy it or skip it, I won’t be offended!

Coming from a strong history of innovation and expertly designed gameplay, Bungie’s Halo series has been superb so far. When the initial announcement for an expansion pack to 2007′s Halo 3 came, I trembled in anticipation. Throughout the months following its unveiling my expectations grew, only to be shot down as the release date got closer. From what was once a $30 expansion, Halo 3: ODST became a full package, retailing at the usual $60; the price change was staggering. Convincing me to lay down $60 for what began as an expansion would require the game to have a much wider scope and a lot more features tucked in. Finally, some initial reviews trickled in and things weren’t looking good. I  had the chance to play it, and disappointingly it became obvious: ODST is not worth the $60.

Now before you totally disgregard the game outright, it’s important to learn what the it provides you with. ODST tells a very compelling story that I particularly enjoyed. You play as The Rookie, a seemingly normal Orbital Drop Shock Trooper (O-D-S-T hey!) without the abilities a Spartan like Master Chief would have like dual wielding and advanced shielding. You’ll quickly learn the difference between the ODST capabilities versus the Chief’s. ODST are much weaker and therefore have health hiding beneath their delicate shields, making the combat much more tactical and cover much more valuable.

Your team was sent to stop the Covenant from completely destroying the city of New Mombasa, unsurprisingly things don’t go as planned. Unfortunately hell breaks loose before you and your squad land and you’re forced to search for your fellow comrades through the mementos they left behind.

Throughout the campaign you will be traversing New Mombasa in the dark. This “hub world” lets you explore and find clues in order to find the survivors from your team, and hopefully regroup. Bungie did a excellent job of letting you understand that you’re alone, and that your character actually cares about these missing people. Each clue that you find transports you into a flashback. In these flashbacks you play one of the ODST that you’re searching for. These flashback sequences allow you to widen your eyes, as it’s no longer dark, and get back into the epic gun battles that historically represent a Halo game. These parts are paced very nicely throughout your midnight memory hunt, but the combat sequences between feel like place-holders. Linking the flashbacks together to form a cohesive narrative was more difficult than I thought it would be and it ultimately felt messy and confusing. Near the end of the game things start to culminate into very recent flashbacks, rendering the first set of sequences unnecessary. Although, if they weren’t present, the game would be even shorter than the 4-5 hours it already lasts.

The graphics are very similar to the Halo 3 engine that you’ve already seen in action, and that’s not a bad thing. ODST’s focus on its characters could have been more impressive and genuine if the their faces weren’t still ugly. Bungie’s intent for you to realize you’re not playing Master Chief is inconsistent, you can still jump over towing crates, and walk around while wielding a giant machine gun turret. The game inevitably teaches you to find cover often as your battle strategy, but never punches you in the groin for being too brave. Maybe that’s harsh, but it felt frustratingly contrived after realizing the only difference between Master Chief and an ODST is primarily the health deficiency and the lack of a dual-wielding ability.

Without “Halo” in the title, ODST is a solid first-person shooter, but it carries so little weigh it feels out of place in the Halo series. Martin O’Donnel’s soundtrack is arguably the only thing that met and exceeded my exceptions; it is absolutely amazing. If you are looking for a solid campaign and some more story to add to your Halo knowledge this would be well worth $20-$25 alone, but with its shortcomings and higher price, Halo 3: ODST  doesn’t live up to the quality of its predecessors.

What did I change? You can try to read the original review here.

Actor or avatar?

I play a cautious adventurer who finds his thrills in exploration of the outside world rather than sparring with the creatures inside the various caves and dungeons of Skyrim. I play a ruthless, cold-hearted Commander Shephard that while in combat, uses precision and unexpectedness to best his foes. I play a valiant paladin who upholds the law with such strong punishment the demons of Azeroth fear the thought of me. This is who I am. This is what I play.

Games toy with a weird dichotomy between actor and avatar. Is Nathan Drake who I’m playing, or is he a representation of me? In some ways his quips and wit correspond with what I’m thinking, but you wouldn’t find that I also have dry undergarments while running away from hundreds of giant spiders. Even Commander Shephard is a little too savage for my tastes, he didn’t need to kick that one guy out of that giant window. Cole Phelps is at times the complete opposite of me, sometimes I hate him so much I want to refuse to help him with his case. Some games are very forthcoming to the question of who you are playing, some are not so obvious and it’s can become a struggle to talk about those games, to criticize them, without knowing.

When you simmer this discussion down to the most delicious of parts, we come to the relationship between you and the game, the form of expression. I don’t mean picking a dialogue choice, or choosing A or B, I mean expression through play. Whether or not expression is rewarded or not depends on the game. LittleBigPlanet 2, Minecraft, and The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, are a few recent examples of experiences that reward you for thinking and performing to your liking. Each of the games don’t have set motivations for the character you’re playing, the characters don’t even speak.

Many games are limiting when it comes to player expression. Deus Ex: Human Revolution, which doesn’t quite fit among the games I mentioned above, is guilty of this primarily during its boss fights. Pacifist and stealthy players were given no attention, the encounters were only solved through loud gunfights. For many this abrupt introduction of rules made them feel cheated; the game promised freedom and lied. All of the sudden they weren’t playing themselves through Adam Jensen, they were playing out the situation and character the developer wanted.

Human Revolution is a sign of a developer reverting a promise, but it’s not always bad. Alan Wake tells a story of a man and how he deals with his own set of problems, problems that you are not asked to react to. Wake is his own creation, he has his own goals, his own process of solving his problems. The interesting parts arrive when I don’t agree with him. It’s the sense of unknown that makes it so exciting to progress further.

Occasionally it gets into multiple blurry shades of grey. She’s absolutely insane, my Saints Row: The Third character, but instead of acting as her, she seems to be lending me a hand. I don’t have the power to participate in dialogue, but she does. I don’t know these characters that I consider friendly and trustworthy enough to be deemed my “homies”, but thankfully she does. She also is extremely gullible and either massively brain-damaged or very kind, which I highly doubt. At some point her and I were drugged, undressed, and undercover trying to save one of these “homies”, and afterwards she thought nothing of it, while I was still aghast. We formed an odd relationship where the only communication we had was through the passing of control back and forth.

Like Saints Row 3, it can be really hard to tell who’s in control. The option is always there to force yourself to agree with the character and tell yourself that those decisions were yours, but it’s nice to craft a personal story as well. The argument against Nathan Drake for his slaughtering of hundreds of men isn’t so strong if you were to claim him as an avatar for the player. Who’s to say, someone with a Kratos-like bloodthirst isn’t playing Drake?

It’s neat that we can even come at it from both sides. The split between expressing yourself as an actor or avatar can be wildly far apart, or it can be weighted heavily towards one. It’s a fun experiment of thought that I get caught up in from time to time. I think about it when I’m writing reviews, I think about it when I read other people’s reviews. For me Nathan Drake and Commander Shepard are characters, Skyrim guy and Minecraft guy are me. I always come to the conclusion that the right answer is whatever I feel is more fitting, and which one is more interesting to talk about.

Deciphering The Old Republic (24-ish hours in)

I’ve racked up about a day of playtime with Star Wars: The Old Republic. I’m a level 21 Bounty Hunter with little patience and a well-oiled trigger finger. When the opportunity arises, I’ll murder anyone, even the innocent. I’m ruthless in combat as well, never leaving without having slaughtered at least fifteen men, beast, or droid. My only mission is to eradicate the other hunters participating in the Great Hunt, and to eliminate their targets too. What I do from here can only get worse.

Here’s something that occurred to me today though.

During a recent interview Daniel Erickson, The Old Republic’s lead writer, spoke about the reaction from fans when introduced to the game’s emphasis on storytelling. Immediately they cried out that MMOs cannot have story, or at least ones as meaningful as the games that don’t try to incorporate thousands of players at a time. A large part of the convincing BioWare was forced to do was with the Beta. After seeing exactly how dialogue and cutscenes would live in what is an otherwise typical MMO, the same fans that thought story was impossible, realized their assumptions were based off of limitations other games have faced.

So, obviously the question is: did it work? Better yet, can it work? Largely the answer for both of those is yes, but given what an MMO was before The Old Republic came around, I’d go so far as to argue it isn’t an MMO. More specifically, the leveling experience is familiar to the wrong genre, the Flashpoints on the other hand don’t bother to make any significant enough changes. The Old Republic’s leveling experience is the reason why I’m not sure how a free-to-play model could apply, unless it’s capped out at a certain level. You’d rarely see someone plan to level to 85 in World of Warcraft and start a new character to do it all over again, yet I’ve seen multiple people claim they are going to use The Old Republic strictly for single-player needs. Whether or not they actually go through with it still shows there’s a desire to cut out the multiplayer in MMO (MSO?).

It’s surprising in itself that The Old Republic exists. Apart from the fact that it’s a hugely popular franchise with an devoted RPG developer behind it, The Old Republic has an identity crisis. It can’t do a lot of things that traditional RPGs can do, and it doesn’t do things traditional MMOs did. Is it trying to change our perceptions or is it just unique? Will the next batch of content be single-player or multiplayer focused? The more time spent thinking about the possibilities, the more interesting this whole thing gets.

15 hours with The Old Republic

I’ve had some time to sink into Star Wars: The Old Republic, probably not enough to assess it compared to my time with World of Warcraft, but enough to suss out some initial impressions. I have no say in its eventual success, nor do I have any say in if it’s “better” than WoW; I do feel confident enough to tell you it’s the best MMO out there that isn’t WoW.

“It isn’t WoW,” is kind of a tricky statement, because were it not for the cutscenes and dialogue wheels, playing SWTOR is a lot like playing WoW. Someone will demand you kill 10 bandits because they are interrupting military efforts, someone will want you to place bombs on enemy encampments, and someone will probably want you to deliver a message at some point, all of these things you will do without hesitation. Upon earning enough experience to gain a level, you will be rewarded with a talent point to invest into a talent tree. Over time you will create a rotation for yourself to go through during enemy encounters. It all sounds pretty standard, correct?

SWTOR does a few things that Blizzard either never came up with, or never found a way to implement. Apart from its ability to convey importance to what would otherwise be menial missions, SWTOR devotes its time holding the MMO behind its back while ushering you along your single-player storyline, almost as if it’s embarrassing or something. It’s really weird, but after a few hours I gave into its manipulation and went along for the ride. The smartest thing that comes out of SWTOR’s need to immerse you is the companions. From a mechanical standpoint, it introduces players to class interaction, which is important assuming a lot of new MMO players might not grasp the concepts of a healer or a tank. But to an experienced MMO player it removes the downtime during the leveling progress, especially when the game is already littered with cutscenes.

With all of SWTOR’s polish though, it’s easy to find things that may have been overlooked or skipped. For example: WoW’s incredibly useful visual cues. Sure, it was an add-on that Blizzard stole for a patch bullet point sometime during Wrath of the Lich King, but without it my eyes are forced to stare at the ability bar. For me specifically, as a Bounty Hunter I need to know when Rail Shot is available for use, a nice graphical cue that appears somewhere near my character on screen would be preferable.

Again, my time with SWTOR is extremely limited if you look at the time I spent with WoW, but then again, new MMOs need to bring a lot of finesse if they want to compete. Maybe if I hit max level the actual MMO features will start to unearth themselves, but for now SWTOR is the largest BioWare game with a promise of cooperation that so far, has ultimately felt in the way during the leveling experience.  Luckily, I believe BioWare and EA managed to launch a good, new MMO. It’ll be important to see how BioWare deals with balancing classes and adding content, because without support an MMO is nothing.

I’m not done yet; I’m still finishing missions and still leveling up. Look forward to more impressions as I continue my path to level 50.

My Top 10 Games of 2011

10. Deus Ex: Human Revolution

It’s not often that a game will feel dated in the best of ways, I can only assume Eidos Montreal made some dark deals to uncover the secret to make Deus Ex: Human Revolution feel like an ode to the original game, while making sure to nestle 21st century storytelling in between. Human Revolution is confident enough to untie the rope most games fear to remove and give you the power to tackle a situation however you choose. And in between crawling through vents and stacking crates, two sides of society fight over technology’s utility and promise, a rote argument sure, but it’s handled intelligently. Human Revolution worked hard to retain the balance between new and old and succeeded.

9. Dead Space 2

Dead Space 2 did a lot of iterative things, however each of them made for a much better experience. Instead of gore, Dead Space 2 frightened with tension and psychological insanity. Watching Isaac Clarke begin to lose his mind over the course of the game kept me on my toes. Severing limbs with crazy space weaponry wasn’t bad either. I tend to stay away from most horror games because of the cliches they feel the need to run through. Dead Space 2 is one of the rare games that uses its environment to cause an unnerving sense of dread. The January release date didn’t do this game any favors, it stands strong among this year’s holiday releases and shouldn’t be overlooked.

8. L.A. Noire

Partly because of my love for the era and the noire style, L.A. Noire hooked me for a lot of reasons. Team Bondi’s stunningly accurate depiction of a 1940s Los Angeles was a delight to look at. The cases themselves also brought a tone unique to the time period. L.A. Noire’s most important attribute has to be the facial animation technology. We needed a game to take conversation this far. L.A. Noire might not have been perfect, but it was a concept that needed to be seen to completion. It brought a sense of class and maturity few games attempt to do.

7. Uncharted 3: Drake’s Deception

Many of the moments in Uncharted 3: Drake’s Deception made me speechless with the sheer amount of technical artistry. No other game developer will let you play inside a capsizing cruise liner like Naughty Dog. Uncharted 3 is all about split-second decisions and when you make them correctly, the game flows better than most summer blockbusters. It’s the attention to detail, the meaningful writing, the character interaction and  the puzzles that make Uncharted 3 worth playing.

6. Batman: Arkham City

If Batman simulation were a genre, Rocksteady would be masters of the craft. Batman: Arkham City does what other games still haven’t mastered with flair. The combat walks the line between simple and complex while remaining just as brutal as it was in Arkham Asylum, if not more. Preying on enemies both indoors and out never becomes a chore, it’s just so much fun pummeling fools into the ground. Did I mention it’s also a superb Batman story, juggling the right amount of villians to bring a sense of urgency throughout? Rocksteady didn’t hesitate to shove as much love for Batman in as possible and it’s apparent from beginning to end.

5. Gears of War 3

The Gears of War franchise is blamed for being very obnoxious, what with all the chainsaws and gore, but Gears 3 proves that below the rigid surface the characters have feelings other than anger. Gears 3 feels like a fitting end to Marcus Fenix and company’s story arch. A few moments in Gears 3 are far more touching than they should have been and I think they end up being so because of all the baggage we’ve aided the characters in carrying during the past two games. Gears 3 surprised me this year. It wasn’t the mastery of cover-based shooting this time around, it was watching these characters cope with war. I never thought I’d say it, but it is elegant in the way it portrays damage on its characters, especially in the final scene. Gears 3 rose above with unexpected maturity, if you haven’t finished it, do yourself a favor and fix that.

4. The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

It’s hard not to get overwhelmed when The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim shoves you out into the blinding sunlight after the initial tutorial dungeon. The amount of things to do is stunning and the fact that so many of those things aren’t poorly made is even more so. Whether it’s eating bugs, slaying dragons, crafting armor, learning spells, dungeon crawling, bartering or murder, almost everything is under your control in Skyrim. Sure, Oblivion did it before, but Skyrim does it while looking beautiful and packing a crisp looking UI to boot. Don’t listen to the naysayers, Skyrim is a place worth staying.

3. Saints Row: The Third

“A f***ing tiger?! A f***-ing tiger?! What the f*** is wrong with you?!” If that doesn’t sum up most of Saints Row: The Third, I don’t know what will. Despite not having the tightest of controls or the strongest of stories, Saints Row 3 does so many things, so many, in complete service of its tone. It’s also legitimately funny, making it one of the two games this year that had me chuckling more than a few times. But it’s not just the absurdity that won me over, Saints Row 3 is written in such a way that the jokes never fall flat or feel awkwardly placed. Volition knows what works and doesn’t break to justify anything. Saints Row 3 is a romp that’s a pure joy to play.

2. Portal 2

Portal 2 met my highest expectations and more.  As expected, Valve pulls it off with the kind of ingenuity only it can provide. Portal 2 expands so wide in scope compared to the first game that you can’t help but to lose yourself poking around in the abandoned testing chambers, with the added ability to tell a story of their own through the deterioration. Working out solutions for the giant rooms you’re dropped in was always an exercise in clever thinking and the jolt of glee upon success is unparalleled.  Even the few characters thrown in end up being some of gaming’s greatest. Valve did it again, Portal 2 is a wonderful sequel.

1. Bastion

I’m not sure exactly what I expected before I started up Bastion for the first time. A few mentions of Diablo-esque slash-and-forget gameplay without the loot, narrated by a mysterious voice were tossed around, as well as an “acoustic frontier trip-hop” soundtrack. In retrospect, maybe I shouldn’t have been listening prior to playing it, but it was clear it took more than a sentence to describe what made Bastion so brilliant. Bastion’s devotion to the player goes farther than what other games would dare to reach for. Narratively, visually, musically and mechanically, the world builds with your every step. I loved every second I spent in Caledonia. Bastion is unforgettable.