I’ve made my first Twine game!
There are ten fish in total to discover. There is an easter egg of sorts, but it’s mentioned in my thread in the Jam forums, so it’s not really hidden.
I caught the last 10 minutes of a Big Bang Theory episode once. This is meant to be comedy? It’s excruciating. Is it harsh to judge an entire programme on the basis of the tail end of one episode? Probably. Is BBT even more embarrassingly unfunny than Friends? Definitely. Here’s what I saw:
Woman A doesn’t have a boyfriend. Woman B says something like ‘if it gets too much I can show you some female stress-relief techniques I’ve perfected over the years.’ Ho ho, that is mildly funny because she is talking about wanking. That should be the end of the joke.
However! Then she says ‘Do you have an electric toothbrush?’ This is labouring the joke and making it unfunny. The first bit was potentially funny, in a ‘what did you think I meant, it is you who is rude’ way. The next line makes it sledgehammer obvious.
Later, Woman B says ‘we can always go to CVS and get you an electric toothbrush’ returning to the unfunny joke that should have stopped. Then ‘I call mine Gerard’. Stop. You are labouring the joke far, far, beyond the point when it was (potentially) funny. Woman C, after a beat, says ‘That’s kind of creepy’. Stop adding ‘punchlines’ after a joke has ended. Yes, the lady likes to stick toothbrushes in her foof. That is the end of the joke. Now stop.
I bet the people who find BBT funny have to show each other the Viz every time they get a joke and say ‘that funny cos the man done poo.’
(Credit goes to Lingmops for supplying the title of this post.)
Proteus is one of the most delightful things I have played. So many games are fun, but Loco Roco, Okami and now Proteus are probably the only ones I have played that I could describe as delightful.
Proteus Official Launch Trailer
This isn’t going to be a review, because everyone’s surely heard about this game already thanks to the ‘it’s not a game!’ wankerypop it generated. I’m writing this because the game is now available for Windows and Linux and at the time of writing is only £3.50 on Steam. If you can’t eke £3.50’s worth of fun out of Proteus you are a charmless joy-void.
Lovely things I found or did in Proteus:
I was expecting the worst from DmC. I love the pre-reboot series (I even like DMC 2), and I was nervous about seeing the game put in the hands of Ninja Theory, whose Heavenly Sword was very pretty and also very derivative and dull. I let myself be cautiously optimistic at the same time, because the DMC games have plots you could write on a postage stamp (Dante and pals fight monsters, Dante fights big boss monster, everyone goes home for tea), and all that could be done with the characters has probably been done. The series needed a reboot. (Plus, that nicely fixes the problem of ‘where exactly does DMC2 fit into the series’ timeline’.)
Fortunately, it’s a quite brilliant reboot. It’s got some comforting familiarity (Dante’s still a cocky cuntcake, combat still involves using a sword to twat enemies up into the air and ‘juggling’ them with gunfire, you still buy things from divinity statues using red orbs and look for secret missions), and some nice restyling. Vergil is now a cool (but silly-hatted) gunslinger, driver and hacker instead of a moody git who refuses to use firearms because they’re not the way of a true warrior. New character Kat (a witch who keeps her spells in spray cans for quick deployment) is probably vaguely based on 3’s Lady, and is a more interesting and likable character. The game has a less goff vibe, and feels like what DMC2 was trying to be. In particular, Noisia and Combichrist were excellent choices for the soundtrack. Devil May Cry with a dubstep backdrop? Oh hell yes.
I was impressed by the intro cutscene, in which Dante answers the door in the nuddy-pants and proceeds to get dressed in an unfeasibly dramatic way while running into battle. The whole time this happens, his bits are somehow obscured by a carefully-choreographed parade of dong-shaped objects (such as a flying baseball bat). That shows that Ninja Theory have the series’ innuendo and silliness down pat.
I have mixed feelings about the new sweariness. Old Dante was disappointingly unsweary, but a script peppered with ‘Fuck you!’ ‘Fuck YOU!’ comes across as written by someone in a hurry to get to the pub. As does this terrible bit of dialogue: ‘You’re going to die!’ ‘Oh really? Somehow, I doubt that.’ Seriously, Ninja Theory?
Play follows the action-adventure standard of ‘twat all the enemies in the area, then you can crack on with solving the environmental puzzle and move on to the next area.’ ‘Puzzle’ is probably too generous a term – most of it is easy platforming. It’s linear, but encourages you to revisit levels by having obstacles that you can only clear with a weapon you acquire later in the game. You can finish the game in one inexorable advance from intro to final cutscene if that’s how you want to play, or if you’re a completionist and like to explore and to collect things you can go back and do that too.
Combat is fairly formulaic, in that you’ll probably find a favourite combo and stick with that until you find an enemy it doesn’t work on. It’s annoyingly easy to fall off precipices when using the move to pull yourself to an airborne enemy, meaning that this move gets largely unused in favour of the equally-effective one to pull the enemy towards you. Your overall mission score is affected by the quality of your battle moves (avoid taking damage and avoid repetition), but it’s surprisingly easy to score highly in this area, meaning that you don’t really have to think that hard about finesse unless you’re going for an mission S rank or above.
The game has enough references to the previous series to please DMC wankers like me. A couple of times it does get a bit ‘Look! That was a reference, did you like it?’ Yes, ho ho, I see what you did there. Some enemy designs are reimaginings of monsters from past games, and the game has a battle mechanic similar to the brilliant Devil Bringer used by Nero in DMC4. Interestingly, there’s no title drop (all the previous games made references to the fact that devils never cry, and the title of the series was also the title of Dante’s business), making me wonder if the devs will make the letters DmC stand for something else.
I was bracing myself for a women-objectifying scene mentioned in another review. It’s there and yeah, pretty gratuitous, but fortunately it’s over quickly and happens right at the start. It’s almost as though the devs thought it was obligatory to have at least one pan over a woman’s knickered bum but didn’t really want to and shoved it in quick at the start to get it over with. I found myself thinking ‘that wasn’t so bad’, which is quite sad because it shows how ubiquitous this has become in mainstream gaming.
I’m more bothered by how Western-centric the plot is. An illuminati of demons have taken over the world by a combination of manipulating finances using possessed bankers (topical lols), a propaganda-filled news network (an obvious pisstake of Fox), and an addictive aggressively-marketed soft drink that makes its consumers subservient. Fair enough, but it’s not explained how this works in areas without television coverage or fizzy pop, or how a worldwide stranglehold can be broken by taking out one television station and one factory.
It’s so refreshing to see a game that hasn’t forgotten it is a game, and presents itself as such. Checkpoints are so frequent that you can stop playing pretty much wherever you want and not have to worry about losing progress when you resume play. If you’ve reached a level in any difficulty mode, you can try it at any other mode you’ve unlocked. Controls are remappable. Hard mode is the normal mode from the pre-reboot games, making it kinder to series newbies while leaving its trademark difficulty still in place for those who want it. You can try out moves in a training arena before committing to buying them, and you can respec whenever you want. Secret mission doors you’ve unlocked and lost souls you’ve found stay that way on subsequent mission playthroughs. DmC is a hard game only in that it’s tough to play – the structure as a game is engineered in such a way that you never have to think about it, and can get on with the business of enjoying the damn game. We need more of this.
If you’re new to the Devil May Cry series, this is probably a better purchase than the Devil May Cry HD Collection, which is a very soulless port, or Devil May Cry 4, which is buttock-clenchingly hard and makes you play as shitehawk Nero for the first half before you can be Dante. If you’re an established Devil May Cry fan, you must get this. It’s a worthy continuation.
Bonus: Here’s a Storify of my livetweeting the game when I first got it.
Also known as #BOABOAT! I had a great time (my notebook is now sticky with orange juice and rooibos) and met several Twitter lovelies. The venue, MS Stubnitz, was very strange (it’s a 1960s German herring storage ship) and very dark (my notebook has several margin notes in increasingly spidery handwriting saying ‘I can’t see, it is dark’). Good for viewing slideshows, less so for neck-craning at audience members while thinking ‘is that him/her from- ?’
As with last year, there were several events going on simultaneously, making it impossible to see everything. I missed the first couple of talks (Mike Bithell’s Write it Like it’s Die Hard; Ben Milsom and Mark Shaw’s Nice One Videogames, You Killed Pinball) while playing There Shall Be Lancing, Laza Knitez and a weird-ass 2-player game with custom keyboards. I’ll edit this post with the name of the weird-ass game when I find out what it is.
I made sure to see Holly Gramazio’s 2000 Years of Really Peculiar Games, because I loved her Deadly Serious Games talk last year. The talk opened with the revelation that the ball game seen in Dreamworks’ The Road to El Dorado was actually real, and treated with such seriousness that it was used to settle political disputes. Highlights included a 12th-century self-explanatory game called door-breaking; Victorian parlour games that included guessing who is making pig noises, and picking coins out of flaming brandy; a 1960s playground game called Split the Kipper involving knives; and Rithmomachia, which is basically chess for cunts. It has numbered pieces that come in 3 different shapes, and there are 7 ways to capture pieces, determined in various ways by the numbers on them.
I missed most of George Buckenham’s talk on Building Custom Hardware – that page in my notebook doesn’t have much besides ‘Now I know what George Buckenham looks like’ and ‘What was the bowl of gunge?’ (Turns out the latter was for a custard-punching game. In the dark I thought it might have been someone done a sick.) I caught (what I assume is) the take-home message: carpentry is hard, electronics are easy.
I wish I’d caught more of Sir, You Are Being Procedurally Generated (Tom Betts), as some of the things about procedural generation sounded pretty funny. In Sir, You Are Being Hunted the game would sometimes throw out buildings on cliff faces and humourously hostile animals.
Lawrie Russell’s talk How to Clone a Game and Not Be a Shit introduced the interesting concept of an ‘uncanny valley’ seen in remixed games: people become hostile to the game/its creator when it is quite similar to the original. Near-identical is fine, very different is fine, but a middle ground will be seen as ripping off the original rather than a homage. The talk was about Trash TV, which is based on Super Crate Box. Trash TV was well-received when it further borrowed elements from Limbo and Super Meat Boy, implying that ideas from one source is bad but from multiple sources is seen as original.
Caspian Prince’s talk on game design and Cara Ellison’s Twine talk were the ones most relevant to me personally, as a non-developer. The Game Design talk was a helpful and informative breakdown of the most basic parts of design. Part of this is finding the intersection of ‘games people like to play’, ‘games you can make’ and ‘games you like to make’. Just chasing the market will be obvious to players and will be seen as a lack of passion. A part that resonated with me was being told to remember that we (not me, I guess, I’m outside this target audience) are not ‘real’ game designers, and that most indie games are born of self-indulgence and only a lucky few strike a chord. I’ve never seriously attempted game design but I liked that part because I’m sure it applies to all forms of amateur art. Giving yourself permission to be shit (paraphrasing fellow attendee @lingmops) and realising that your successes are built upon your failures (paraphrasing There Shall Be Lancing developer @S0phieH) is one of the hardest things to learn/unlearn as a maker of things.
As a consumer of games, I definitely appreciated the critique of ‘retro’ stylings – which often copy too many design mistakes from old games, detrimental to home entertainment. If a game is to use excessive punishment (as used in arcade games designed to extract as much money from players as possible), it must be balanced with equal amounts of reward. It was interesting to note that two talks (Prince’s Game Design and Russell’s Clone/Shit) mentioned Super Meat Boy in this way, as an example of a game that is both very punishing and very forgiving (such as convenient respawn points). There’s a line in my notebook that I underlined after Prince uttered it: ‘Allow players to play your game the way they want it.’
Cara Ellison’s talk on Twine didn’t tell me much I didn’t already know (it was a good primer on Twine, what it does/is used for and how it works as a development tool), but it was inspirational (as a non-coder it’s one of the few ways I could realistically make a game) and great fun. Ellison ‘inducted’ us into the ‘Twine sorority’ by having us spin round then smack our bums and yell ‘I’m a nasty bitch!’ It was somewhat alarming that she showed us part of Porpentine’s Cyberqueen as a showcase of Twine macros (which it is a very good example of) – people who’d never heard of it and went home to play it after BoA probably got quite a shock.
I missed most of Mitu Khandaker’s Designing Love on a (Space) Ship, which I regretted because what I did hear contained some points that the game industry as a whole needs to be paying attention to. Khandaker cited Mia Consalvo‘s study in which teams, selected to include an equal binary gender split and diverse ethnicity, were invited to design game characters, and still ended up designing typical white space marines despite these not reflecting the makeup of the teams. The study showed how pervasive the existing stereotypes of gaming and gaming characters are. The take-home messages were to consider whom you assume the player to be and why, and that inclusivity diminishes nothing (Khandakar used an analogy of installing a wheelchair ramp on a building). I caught the tail end of a portion of the talk about depictions of love in sci-fi, which I wish I’d heard all of.
Alistair Lindsay’s talk on Psychological Effects of Game Audio was pretty similar to his one last year, but I did like the new addition of a home-made short horror film (first-person view of approaching and opening a shed, inside is a person going RAWR) to illustrate how effective adding an appropriate soundtrack can be, and how subtle parts of the soundtrack can subconsciously prepare a player for something they don’t realise they’re preparing for. It was probably also quite interesting for those who could appreciate the technical difficulty in getting the pool of sound effects to change on the fly without jarring.
The event ended with a demonstration of 3-player game A New Thing, which I couldn’t comprehend, to be honest. It appears to be an exploration game with rhythms based on player movement (interestingly, the same motif used by Proteus, the show-closer last year), but I couldn’t parse what was happening.
Games I played (all digital, missed out on custard-punching and lemon-jousting):
– There Shall Be Lancing reminded me of an on-rails Zone of the Enders. Two players hover at opposite ends of a spherical region of sky, demarcated by eight dotted line paths segmenting its surface like an orange. The paths correspond to analogue stick directions. Pushing the left analogue stick (the game uses Xbox controllers) sends your jousting character hurtling along that path. Pushing the right analogue stick blocks an incoming jouster. Doing either of these depletes your power meter, which governs your speed. The more you dodge and block, the slower your attack will be and easier for your opponent to dodge. It’s great fun! Also, the orange character (there are 4 characters selectable by the Xbox controller’s 4 colour-coded face buttons) looks kinda like me.
– Laza Knitez is a 2-4 player game with somewhat Asteroids-like movement where you are a shooty man in space and must shoot the other shooty men. There are power-ups, and inhibitors that look cuntishly like power-ups. It’s a good multiplayer game in that it is most fun when played with more people.
– The aforementioned weird-ass 2player game had two custom keyboards: one with the arrow keys removed, and the other with all keys but the arrows removed. The player with the arrow keys is the only one who can see the monitor. This player controls a little smiley-face creature navigating a maze blocked by ominous words. The other player can help by holding down up to two letter keys at a time, which clears those letters from the maze and allows the little smiley to pass through. It was quite hard, partly because the noisy venue made communication difficult, and partly because describing the room and what you’re doing to the other player (which seems only polite – more fun for them than just being told ‘Can you hold down W and E… now keep holding down E, release W and hold down I’) got quite repetitive. ‘We’re in a room with four exits and some ominous writing. I’m gonna go east. Oh, now we’re in another weird-ass scary writing room.’
– simian.interface was a fun little 1-player puzzler in which you had to carefully move your mouse around to align some shapes. Honestly, it was much more fun than that description makes it sound. It was cheerfully packaged as a testing facility’s experiment, with pastel colours and banana and cat motifs.
Some excerpts from my notebook:
‘Who made shooty man laser game?’
‘Proteus guy looks like a cool werewolf’
‘Who’s Terry Cavanagh again?’ (for fuck’s sake, Anna!)
‘Rithmomachia – etymology with arithmetic?’ (anyone know?)
It’s quite strange being at a game design event when you aren’t connected with the industry (yes, I used to write for Gamestyle, but that was so long ago I should stop milking it). I got sorta-mistaken for Sophie Houlden (I was asked ‘Is this your game?’ while playing TSB Lancing). Everyone assumes you’re there as a creator, but are quite pleased to discover you aren’t and are there because you like what people (and therefore possibly they) are making. (The downside is that I don’t feel brave enough to join in any of the design workshops or jams – I feel much too out of my depth.) It’s also very strange to see how your various Twitter spheres converge and how many people you know also know each other. There’s also the usual part-bizarre part-oddly-ordinary feeling that arises at any gathering of people mostly known by their screen names. A highlight of the evening was being approached by Alex May, the co-creator of Eufloria, and asked ‘Are you Pisscress?’
Bit of Alright now has a safe space policy, which is brilliant news. I had no cause to complain last year, but the industry as a whole needs to mature and be inclusive, and people need to not assume that their displeasure at bad instances is obvious and therefore need not be voiced.
The only thing ‘bad’ about the event was that the Stubnitz is not wheelchair accessible at all. One of the pre-event emails said ‘If this will be a problem for you, please let [us] know as soon as possible and we’ll make the best arrangements we can.’ Unless there’s something about the layout of the ship I don’t know, I fail to see how anyone who can’t do stairs and steps could possibly have been accommodated.
All in all, a brilliant event, even though I missed loads of stuff (bits of some talks, Undercurrent on Oculus Rift, PlayStation Move jousting, 3D QWOP, all the analogue games). Very cosy, and very funny to be in Canary Wharf and see the suits bemused at all the plaid-clad (why do nerds all wear plaid?!) mostly-bearded nerds tromping through their territory. There was an amusing incident at the post-event pub party involving a glove and an orange.