Steam in the living room

October 2nd, 2013

I find the concept of Valve making a gaming PC for the living room fascinating for many reasons. There’s the drama in a software company trying to come to grips with making hardware. There’s Valve’s determination to also introduce a new controller paradigm, which could be amazing. And there’s the chance to witness in a public forum Valve grapple with the choices between making something sufficiently cheap, quiet, small and powerful, each factor jostling against the other. Oh, also, it might spur Sony and Microsoft to adjust the very nature of the console if Valve gets it right.

SteamMachines

So anyway, for Edge I wrote three immediate-reaction pieces to Valve’s fun three announcements last week.

Steam in the living room could never be about closing the box and joining Sony, Microsoft, Apple and everyone else fighting over that bitterly contested space. It’d be a mistake for Valve to attempt to compete directly with such big players, especially with PS4 and Xbox One having regained the traditional console lustre that was looking so dulled when the Steam Box was first mooted.
→ SteamOS and what’s next for Valve in the living room

It gives an insight into the many variables that need to be juggled for a computer designed for the living room, and the many values that consumers have for it. Should it be cheaper than an office computer? Does it need to be small so it fits under the TV? Should it be silent, too? How powerful is powerful enough? Valve is inviting a very public form of discussion of these attributes, a contrast to the very private deliberations that have been going on in Redmond and Sony’s studios for the past few years.
→ Steam Machines will be powerful, upgradable and open – the potential is remarkable

The Steam Controller is arguably the most important part of the Steam in the living room concept, because it deals with interface; the thing you touch. It’s also the bit that Valve has never done before. Steam and Big Picture prove it can do software and service, so that covers Steam OS. It can make partnerships to make computer hardware – that’s reasonably straightforward. But industrial design? That’s new. And difficult. Especially when you’re trying to invent a whole new way of interacting with games on a TV.
→ Valve’s Steam Controller has the potential to change games in the living room

Also can I just say I (almost) called the three announcements right. Wrong order, and I expected to at least see the hardware, but friends grumbled at me because I didn’t think Half-Life 3 was coming. Yeeeah.

Finding beauty in GTAV through selfies

October 1st, 2013

GTAV-selfies

I wrote about finding the beauty in GTAV through its details, cos the details are what I’ve always loved GTA for. And then I took selfie photos of them, just because it seemed fitting.

I wish I could’ve invested about an extra week of time into finding these details, but I kept getting into scrapes while I explored. There’s so much more to find – and love – in the margins of this incredible game.

The thing is, this stuff is often so well realised that it tends to get completely overlooked, while GTA’s big, bad, lurid side gets all the attention. But if you care to look it’s far more important. For me, it’s in how GTAV’s cars have slightly differently coloured headlights, the way you can light petrol trails with the backfire flames from your exhaust, and how each of the three protagonists have different smartphones (it’s so delicious that Trevor should have what looks like a Windows Phone).

Read in full at Edge

Still Playing: Crusader Kings II

September 16th, 2013

A while back I built on a post I wrote here about Crusader Kings II for Edge. It’s a game I can never seem to find enough time to play, but it certainly deserves it.

Crusader Kings II isn’t a standard PC strategy game. Sure, it’s played from a map view and there are tables of stats to lose yourself in, there’s gold, Piety and Prestige to be collected, and tech upgrades to build. But actually, what you’re playing is The Godfather: The Game. It’s Dallas. It’s Game Of Thrones (there is, to prove the point, a Crusader Kings II mod that models the entirety of the Western Kingdoms). It’s human drama generated from the game’s tangle of family trees, geography of alliances and individuals’ traits and attributes.

Read in full at Edge

The Knightmare of 90s revivalism

September 13th, 2013

In full grump mode, for Edge I moaned about the current focus on reviving 1990s games and properties. Obviously it got the usual accusations of being joyless, but c’mon. Do we really want to be playing Superfrog HD?

…the 90s revivalism of which Knightmare is part is everywhere today. There’s The Bitmap Brothers’ evidently meticulous upcoming remake of The Chaos Engine. There’s Wayforward’s evidently meticulous upcoming remake of DuckTales. There’s the rising spectre of The Pickford Brothers’ Plok, too, which has just re-emerged as a webcomic that surely means it’s about to return full-formed as a brand old game. I admit I’d entirely forgotten the mid-90s SNES original. Team 17 released Superfrog HD on PSN yesterday, another remake which seems to have proven that fondly remembered platformers rarely stand up in modern hands. The less said about Dizzy the better (and not just because it was an 80s game).
Read in full at Edge

Still Playing: Spelunky’s Daily Challenge

September 11th, 2013

I’m a proud, if slightly occasional, member of Tom Francis’ Spelunky Explorers Club, a cadre of Daily Challenge players who commit their deeds to YouTube. I recently wrote about the revelation of becoming a member for Edge.

Everyone says they’re awful at Spelunky. Even the best. At least that’s what I tell myself as I die on level 1-2 from an arrow trap I’d noticed but instantly forgotten, or a bat I mistakenly thought my motor skills could defeat. But when good players crash out of Spelunky and curse their awfulness, they’re in the Ice Caves or Temple, or probably even further, frustrated that they messed up getting into the City Of Gold or Hell. Not the Mines, the first set of levels. My home and my nemesis. I really am awful at Spelunky. But I didn’t really know how bad until it came out on PC last week.
Read in full at Edge

The slow, sad death of 3D games: a tribute

September 10th, 2013

Having really been enjoying the stereoscopic 3D in 3DS Steamworld Dig, Etrian Odyssey IV and Fire Emblem: Awakening, I wrote about the sad demise of the technology for Edge. The whole stereoscopic 3D thing was always kind of crazy, and yeah, its story is a curious one of corporate hubris and desperation. But you have to admit a nice stereoscopic 3D menu design is super sweet.

Perhaps it’s finally time to raise a glass to stereoscopic 3D. Once a proud part of E3 press conferences and the core selling point of entire consoles, it seems to be quietly being shelved. It’s “not a focus” for Sony with PS4, which, if rumours are to be believed, seems likely to be graced with an Oculus Rift-style headset. And following a steady deemphasising of 3D in its 3DS marketing spiel, Nintendo’s gone and removed it completely for its new budget version, 2DS.

So no one really cares about stereoscopic 3D, but I like to think that’s mostly because it’s misunderstood. Because – and this might sound crazy – I actually really like 3DS’ 3D.

Read in full at Edge

Blood Meridian: War and games

September 7th, 2013

red_dead_redemption

I finished Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian last week. A story that follows the bloody trail of a gang of scalphunters as they murder their way across Texas and northern Mexico in the mid-1800s, it’s at once monumental and biblical, harrowing and graphically violent. It’s really stuck with me.

One of the many things I admire is its vision of the American (and Mexican) West as an ancient land, with a long history of people having come and gone before Glanton’s gang ranges across it. It helps to set base action – slaughter, rape, torture, disease, poverty, decay, hunger, greed, destruction – in the realm of something more timeless and fundamental: an examination of man and nature stripped of civilisation. But it’s still remarkably immediate. I didn’t realise until after I finished that the Glanton gang is based on a real one, which used the bounties on scalps made by various Mexican townships under attack by marauding Apaches as an excuse to go on the rampage for gold and blood.

The world Blood Meridian depicts is morally abhorrent, but it’s still somehow internally logical. The philosophical keystone is Judge Holden, an awesome figure, described as being seven feet high and hairless, and usually naked. He continually studies the natural world, drawing it, taking samples, and explains to one of his fellow gang members that he does it because, “Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent.”

He steadily lays out other such brutal ideals throughout the book, and one of them concerns the importance of games – principally betting games and sport, but it struck me that it gets at something fundamental about why we play.

Men are born for games. Nothing else. Every child knows that play is nobler than work. He knows too that the worth or merit of a game is not inherent in the game itself but rather in the value of that which is put at hazard. Games of chance require a wager to have meaning at all1. Games of sport involve the skill and strength of the opponents and the humiliation of defeat and the pride of victory are in themselves sufficient stake because they inhere in the worth of the principals and define them. But trial of chance or trial of worth all games aspire to the condition of war for here that which is wagered swallows up game, player, all.

I think that there’s a lot of truth in the idea that games are an elemental part of humanity, their abstractions of the rules of war and taking from others by force play on the ancient impulses that take us to those acts. We live for conflict in some form or other, and games can be a safe place to practise it.

Blood Meridian depicts pretty much every kind of mutilation and suffering I can imagine, and there’s a lot of it, too. But that’s not a criticism, because it proves that violence is just as much worthy of portrayal and reflection as anything else. Perhaps more so. Violence in videogames, though, is often dismissed as unnecessary or juvenile.

The Last of Us, in which you have little agency other than to hit things or shoot them, came under particular fire for this recently. I agree that some of its lingering animations of bludgeoning and smothering do seem to take a pleasure in the act that is less about articulating the character’s part in it than a pornographic attempt to satisfy players’ desire to witness it. But I have no problem with the central role violence plays in the game. It’s the player character Joel’s main means of self-expression; the way he gets his way in a world without civilisation. It’s fitting, and the game explores the repercussions of Joel’s actions on himself and his relationship with Ellie quite well.

I’ve always been a little uncomfortable with the general argument that videogames are too violent. Whether they depict it well is another matter, but violence is such an inherent part of ourselves and, as the Judge says, the reason why we play games that I think it’s completely valid that games should attempt it. Especially as so many other forms of media are so concerned with violence. Whether as a result of the fear of violence or the desire to commit it for self-protection or to dominate, it drives most drama.

So why shouldn’t it drive many games too? I think there’s a kind of truth in the naturalness with which games depict and are underscored by violence – it’s part of the grammar of humanity.

  1. There’s your reason why Spelunky’s Daily Challenge is so fun right there.

Nintendo the iOS game maker: part II

August 30th, 2013

There’s something something I failed to explain properly in my post about Nintendo as an iOS game developer – about the relationship between business and craft. But this story kind of gets to it, told by Robert Krulwich, the more down-to-earth and substance-concerned part of Radiolab.

He’s describing seeing a former colleague at CBS and traditional newspaperman, Charles Kuralt, being upset upon learning that CBS had hired a new boss for him, a man who had raised his previous station’s audience share from 6% to 50% by getting new, young and beautiful newscasters to report from the beach wearing beachwear “where they got kind of wet, showing off their extra beautiful parts”.

The natural reaction, as Krulwich observes, is that any business should get a 50 share of a market if it can.

But when Charles Kuralt went to CBS, it wasn’t a business. It was a calling.

For me, that’s Nintendo, too. Today, it’s slowly sinking into deep trouble, with little sign of a clear path out of it. But to lose its hardware side would be to lose something integral – its beautiful grasp of the relationship between game design and hardware design. Game creation is far more important than mere business, just as journalism is (or should be). It’s a calling.

For Nintendo to become just another developer and give up the greater language of interaction that buttons afford over touchscreens would really be a tragedy.

Nintendo the iOS game maker

August 29th, 2013

I say they should just give in and start making iOS games. They’re not going to win this battle.

I wish John Gruber wouldn’t talk about games, because I don’t think he really understands them. Here he’s reacting to Nintendo’s surprise 2DS announcement.

Sure, Nintendo has a lot of problems. And, yes, many of them are a result of losing a vast amount of control over handheld gaming since the advent of iPhone. But still. He sees games/devices as a ‘battle’ in which sheer numbers are the only marks of success rather than long-term passion and wonderful expressions of creativity (you know, like many of the things he celebrates Apple for). He’s also ignoring the clear and present benefits of gaming-centric hardware. Like many, I don’t want a future in which handheld gaming devices don’t have physical buttons and joysticks. Broadly speaking, 3DS is better for games than an iPhone. Anyone who loves games should abhor the idea of them losing such vital parts of themselves.

I think also that the iPhone/iPod Touch argument as the ideal gaming device ignores the practicality of a (far cheaper) Nintendo handheld for kids. Among other reasons, they’re more or less indestructible and their games don’t include the terror of microtransactions.

And besides, Nintendo’s real issue right now is its bid for the living room, not the pocket, with the floundering Wii U. I’d be surprised if Nintendo hasn’t explored making iOS games in its labs, just to figure out what they are and how they work, but for Nintendo to simply become an app maker would be to lose its very soul.

NB I wrote a second part to this that hopefully makes me look less like a naive idealist (instead just an idealist).

Blast

July 28th, 2013

I really like Naoya Hatakeyama’s Blast series of photographs. I’ve had the following as my desktop background for months.

Hatakeyama_Blast

I came across the A BIRD/Blast #130 series earlier, and it’s an amazing piece of visual poetry. There’s the initial calm over this otherworldly place of bare rock and dust, a bird in the sky above.

BLAST1

And then it explodes, and it becomes even more unworldly.

BLAST2

Meanwhile, the bird veers from its course, apparently panicked by the explosion, and incredibly almost framed by the rubble.

I made a gif of the full series here – apologies, it’s a pretty massive file.

A BIRD/Blast #130

HOT, huh? (I admit it kind of bastardises the point of the originals that the event is depicted in distinct individual images, but hey.)

A BIRD/Blast #130 is owned by SFMOMA, which wrote a really interesting piece about the series and Hatakeyama’s technique, in which he works with blast engineers to place the camera as close to the blast as possible without it getting destroyed. He says:

I was moved by their ability to imagine in their brains how 2,000 tons of rock would break apart and then give me accurate advice. From having worked with the rock for so many years, they had gained a vision that I could never imagine. One could say that they were in dialogue with nature in the form of the rocks.