Going In Cold #2

Start Time: 3:36

Amnesia: The Dark Descent opens with a simple splash page which, in unadorned text, asks that players not play "To Win", but rather to try to take the game as an experience.  Talk about hedging your bets, but having finished the game, the sentiment behind it is clear.  Taken as a game, Amnesia is somewhat lacking: interaction is limited, its puzzles are easily solved, there is not much room to explore and no real way to lose.  Clearly Frictional Games was aware of this and bluntly tells the player how best to enjoy their time, focusing them on their perceived strengths.  Unfortunately, its gameplay problems go on to adversely affect the story it is trying to tell and the atmosphere it attempts to foster.

There is something to be said for meeting horror halfway.  Just as watching The Descent in broad daylight, surrounded by friends would mute its power, so too should games be played in the context they are intended.  However, even wearing headphones, alone in a cold, dark room, Amnesia's spell did not last.  The game starts well enough, as both protagonist Daniel and the player attempt to get their bearings.  At this point anything is possible and there is no telling what sorts of nasty surprises the game has in store.  It admirably draws out this period of unease, refusing to go for cheap jump scares in favor of building tension.  However, things start to go wrong once credible threats are introduced.  During an early chase scene, for example, it is very easy to get lost, cornered and killed.  After this happens twice, the monster will not spawn again until reaching the very end of the scene, providing an almost leisurely stroll through what had been the most intense section thus far.  This appears to happen with every enemy encounter.

It is easy to understand the thought process that led to this decision.  Nothing ruins magic like repetition and forcing endless replays on players is a quick path to making them approach it analytically rather than viscerally.  However, this is not the best way to compensate for it.  Even without consciously pushing the boundaries of the ride, players are likely to encounter this quirk and realize that they are posed no actual threat or challenge.

Even worse, the game takes a page from Bioshock and keeps the world in its state after dying.  That means that any items found while engaging in "risky" exploration will be kept even if they are killed.  In order for tension to work players must stand to lose something, whether resources or progress.  In Amnesia, with its frequent checkpoints, abundant supplies and non-reseting world, there is no incentive to play carefully or even believe its threats.

Item usage in the game is another sticking point.  Ostensibly, tinder boxes and lantern oil are used to stave off insanity, but in reality there is no real reason to use them.  Darkness causes sanity to drop, but players are rarely asked to stay in an unlit area for any reason.  Puzzle rooms tend to be lit already and it is rarely makes much sense to light hallways that are only passed once or twice when the illumination doesn't stretch very far and makes it easier for enemies to see.  Add to that the fact that lowered sanity is basically inevitable due to scripted events, and that its overuse early on lets players become acclimated to the creepy audio cues and vision tricks before they can actually be effective and there is not much incentive to spend resources to avoid it.  Health restoration items fare even worse player condition restores with time  and death holds little menace, as noted above.

This is not to say the game is completely without merit, but it shoots itself in the foot every time.  The direct mouse manipulation is a fun twist for building tension under pressure, though under-utilized in practice.  Robbing players of information by penalizing them for looking at enemies is a great idea, or would be if there was any lasting consequence for it.  The story is solidly Lovecraftian and decently written, but it is very strange to have Daniel so vocal in his journals and nearly mute as an avatar.  The level design does claustrophobia very well, but that is almost its only note and the different areas of the castle quickly feel like reskins of each other.  Ultimately, while it is can be enjoyable, Amnesia feels like a shadow of what it could have been with less forgiving design.

Finish 4:36

Polar Fire: Ikaruga Review

Ikaruga is nearly perfect.  Despite a reputation for controller-smashing difficulty, it is easily understood and immediately gratifying, snaring players with hypnotic action while subtly teaching its layered depths.  Every system, enemy placement and visual cue is carefully designed to work in concert, while anything that would distract from the core experience has been excised.  Treasure's confidence in the fundamental appeal of the shoot'em-up is clear from this commitment to minimalism, but created a wholly unique take by introducing a pervasive twist to the old formula.

The genius of the polarity system is in how thoroughly it permeates the game.  Excepting hard obstacles such as walls, every interactive object is considered black or white.  The player switches between the two colors at will, harmlessly absorbing incoming shots of the same polarity and dealing increased damage to enemies of the opposite.  This simple mechanic introduces a high-stakes risk-reward dynamic that forms the basis of Ikaruga.  Beginners maximize survival chances by focusing on their constant, partial invulnerability, then graduate to more exposed strategies to destroy foes faster, thus limiting future threats.  As players grow  comfortable, they notice other systems and start balancing quick removal against the opportunity to absorb more fire, thus charging special attacks and accumulating extra points.

Eating bullets and blowing things up are only the beginning.  Forgoing the byzantine scoring of most danmaku, Ikaruga features a basic but flexible system.  Eliminating three enemies of the same color in a row (a chain) yields a bonus that doubles in worth with each consecutive chain, plateauing after the eighth.  Consequently, unlike its predecessor Radiant Silvergun, players do not need to ignore foes to crack the leader boards, nor are they hopelessly out of contention for missing or breaking a combo.  Learning to take advantage of this is almost inevitable within a few hours, given the guided layout of early levels.  Once the patterns reveal themselves, pure survival feels woefully inadequate.  Clever enemy formations and seemingly inaccessible spawn locations offer chain-hunters much to puzzle over.  Formulating new strategies, then reevaluating them as new insight frequently strikes, becomes an addicting feedback loop.  Its depth is not limitless, but the game rewards time invested with inspiration and revelation.

The sublime gameplay is wrapped in an attractive, complementary package.  Undulating, mesmerizing bullet patterns are common in the genre, but Ikaruga's blue and red-tinged projectiles make for an appealing aesthetic.  The color scheme helps distinguish the polarities of each element, while the overall effect induces almost trance-like attention; this makes the experience of weaving through pixels-wide gaps all the more gripping.  Backgrounds are hazy and washed out, emphasizing the action but still providing a nice sense of depth during down moments.  Despite the intense fighting, the soundtrack is almost relaxed, establishing a mournful but determined mood and orienting the player in each stage.  The music fits the game's deliberate pace, subtly encouraging considered play and cautioning against hasty maneuvers.

Playing Ikaruga is akin to navigating two normal vertically scrolling shooters simultaneously.  Attending to only half of the action at any given time while unconsciously tracking the remainder, then swapping focus between them at a moment's notice, is key to doing well.  To aid these mental acrobatics, Treasure wisely strips away all unnecessary artifice, leaving a cohesive, accessible experience that effortlessly caters to any skill level.  Those willing to brave its infamous difficulty will find a masterpiece of design that gives new life to a tried-and-true genre.

Invisible Noir

At least they had the courtesy not to draw after forking over the chit.  Its metallic surfaces shined coldly in the flickering drum light and strangely looked far more valuable than it was in my outstretched hand; I briefly hesitated.  The sob story was transparent and insulting, as was the threat, but I was too tired to start anything.  After the thugs in Seattle it was clear that these two were not worth the trouble.  Besides, I was already in over my head; no sense risking a couple of corpses with connections.  Still flush from the win at the 'Pit, 150 credits would hardly be missed.  The shakedown would have been more irritating than unsettling but for the unblinking asshole standing not 20 feet down the alley, just watching the fleecing.  Was he in on it, or had Cairo really gotten so bad?

I retreated to a nearby alcove to consider my next move but was soon startled by screaming.  Cautiously peeking around the corner, I witnessed one of the most surreal scenes of my life.  The con closer to the burning barrel had somehow managed to light himself on fire and was flailing about in the street.  Transfixed and still bristling, I made no move to help.  More bizarrely, neither did his partner or the man down the alley.  Only after the burning hustler had collapsed in a smoldering heap did the other con take action.  Pulling out a boltcaster and shouting obscenities, he charged the motionless observer, firing a barrage of toxic darts at close range.  His target, finally reacting, began running tight circles in front of his attacker like a manic pin-cushion until he too lay crumpled on the ground.  Apparently satisfied, the remaining man holstered his weapon and resumed his post near the drum.

Just what the hell was going on in this town?