Concept: Beauty In Simplicity -- Portal Mini-Review

Although the present gaming era is one of huge budgets and epic productions, there has been a sizable insurgency of simple yet fun gameplay-oriented titles.

These games are most readily available via digital distribution avenues such as Xbox Live Arcade or the good old internet, and are most often created by small, independent developers.

Games such as these, which are rarely technical marvels, usually thrive on the strength of one or two key gameplay concepts, which are either completely fresh ideas or are purposefully pushed to their limits, squeezing as much raw gaming utopia out of them as possible.

A recently released retail "box" included a gaming experience much like these simple flash titles or thumbdrive-sized downloads, but also happened to be created by a big-name development studio, and happened to run on a sophisticated 3D game engine.

The package, of course, is the critically-acclaimed Orange Box, and the specific game in question is the brilliant Portal. Portal, even though it is essentially a series of rooms that all set the same goal for the player (find a way to the exit), relies on a fresh new concept with nearly infinite possibilities. Yes, Prey made use of portals long before Valve's first-person puzzle game, but Portal has now given the player the freedom to navigate space in just about any way imaginable.

This game is not an exercise in "walk through portal A and exit portal B FTW"--it is a complex, thought-provoking process of flying through portal after portal, making use of elevation, momentum and general laws of physics to access areas that otherwise seem impossible to reach.

Just like other, more simple concept games, the joy of Portal lies in the manipulation of the tools and gameplay mechanics offered to the user, with all else becoming unnecessary. It is an idea-driven game, rather than a content-driven one, and it works. To me, >Portal could even be equated to the timeless classic Tetris in this regard.

Even without the excellent voice acting and dry humor found in the game, Portal stands as a great example of a well-developed concept driving a game to greatness. It is a joy to play, from beginning to end.

Like the song says, "This game is a triumph. I'm making a note here: huge success. It's hard to overstate our satisfaction."

Cleanin' Up -- Dewy's Adventure Review

Dewy's Adventure, from the same team that brought us Elebits, is a simple game. Some might even call it childish -- and I'd agree with them. What I wouldn't say, however, is that the game is solely for children. There's enough here to keep any open-minded gamer interested for at least a little while, despite its simplicity.

As explained in the game's opening segment (where the voice is borderline horrifying) this is the story of Dewy, a small water droplet who is on a mission to save his pristine world from the Black Water that threatens to destroy it. In the process, he must rescue the Eau -- the funny-shaped inhabitants of the land -- from the evil Don Hedron. The theme is somewhat reminiscent of the de-sludging and Pianta rescuing in Super Mario Sunshine, although the games play much differently.

Dewy's Adventure is a novel work, and players may get a sensation similar to the one brought about by the innovative Loco Roco. The game puts the Wii remote to good use, requiring players to tilt the device in order to move Dewy around his world. Imagine directing a marble sitting on top of the remote and you'll get the picture (Marble Madness for the modern gaming era). The point is to reach the end of each stage while freeing as many Eau as possible from the Black Water. It plays something like Super Monkey Ball: Banana Blitz, except jumping is not controlled with a flick of the wrist, but instead with the 2 button (and there's more of it). Special gestures are reserved for actions such as creating a gust of wind (shake the Wii-mote up and down) or calling forth an earthquake (shake the remote side-to-side), as well as context-sensitive wagglings during boss battles and to interact with certain parts of the environment.

Being made of high quality H2O, Dewy can use the air temperature to his advantage. Players can raise or lower the temperature with the d-pad, after which it gradually returns to normal. While in the altered climate, though, Dewy takes on new identities as either a block of ice or a small cloud of water vapor. Each of these forms has its advantages. In ice form, Dewy is fast and lethal, with a more advanced attack than in liquid form. He can also travel safely across now-frozen bodies of water. In mist form, he can target his foes and fire bolts of lightning that either deal damage or leave them stunned and vulnerable.

The controls work well for the most part, but like that age-old classic Marble Madness, can take some getting used to. Players may find themselves falling off ledges more often than they'd like - especially on narrow pathways - but after a bit of practice (and tweaking the tilt sensitivity), the controls become more amicable. Soon, navigating obstacles, saving Eau, defeating enemies, activating switches, and collecting items becomes second nature. Unfortunately, it can also get a bit boring over time, and the game's extras do little to ease that.

Accessible from the Hotori Village, which acts as a hub world, are a handful of galleries for characters, music, and tips players have encountered throughout the game, as well as a place to view photos (read: screenshots) they have taken. It's nothing very exciting, and likely will not captivate anyone but the most impressionable of small children.

In addition to the main story mode, Dewy's Adventure also includes what is called Goody Mode. Here, players have access to a group of single- or multi-player games, as well as a level editor in which to create backdrops for those defeat-all-enemies, collect-all-stars, and time attack tasks. The level editor is a nice touch, but players will soon come to realize that the effort tends to outstrip the reward, as original levels just don't seem to play as well as the prefab ones. You can trade levels over the internet, though, so at least you can share your defeat with friends.

Graphically, the game has a whimsical storybook appeal to it, but nothing more. It is a simple visual representation with minimal assets and effects. The environments could have easily appeared on videogame hardware of generations past. As for the audio, it is nothing but simple, short loops and lots of repetitive character vociferations

Dewy's Adventure is not for everyone, but although the game seems to target the more youthful demographic, it has the potential to appeal to individuals from all age groups. Those gamers who are interested in new, offbeat titles might want to give it a try, but don't expect to be floored by any aspect of the production. I'd recommend a rental.

Renaming The Industry: Forgetting "Videogames"

"Videogames" are a form of art/entertainment that are still only in the equivalent of their toddler years. As such, the gaming industry has been met with varying degrees of neophobic reactionism not at all dissimilar to the earlier responses to television, rock n' roll, comics, heavy metal, certain genres of books, etc.

This, of course, is old news. I imagine that if you have been at all interested in "videogames" and have had access to the internet over the past decade, you've probably read this very sentiment hundreds of times before. Why? Why after so much attention has the issue not gone away?

I feel the mainstream perception of "videogames" has very much to do with the industry's origins as a child-focused endeavor, and even though the scope of the business has broadened widely since then, people are still stuck with outmoded points-of-view.

It may very well be that the cause for this retarded (defined as delayed or impeded) view of the industry partially lies in the also outdated terminology used to describe the medium. "Videogames" (and now you understand the usage of quotation marks) are no longer just a subset of toys and games. They are clearly distinguished from this crude classification by a number of more complex and meaningful characteristics - they are not just for kids anymore.

To remove the "toy" label from this product, a renaming of the medium is in order. How can we allow such a rich amalgam of productions to be identified so simply as "games"? The term "videogame," when broken down to its most simplistic definition, means 'a game that is characterized by its visual properties.' The content on the discs we insert into our consoles and computers every day are far more than that.

What then, should these pieces of software be called, if they are to be taken more seriously and treated with greater respect out there in the "real" world? Well, I have pondered this question for quite some time now, and being the type of person who takes a half-hour to name his role-playing game protagonists, it was an unsurprisingly difficult task.

The proposed name could be anything. From a simple made-up word to a carefully considered derivation from other terms, any combination of letters would suffice. I tend to gravitate toward a meaningful label, however, preferably alluding to some of the traits that define "videogames."

Follow similar conventions, the word "movie" arose around 1910, a shortened version of the phrase "moving picture," and the word "book" comes from the German term for beechwood trees. In order to rename "videogames," it first needs to be clear just what "videogames" are.

Videogames are:

interactive
sensory
stimuli
entertainment
software
art
thematic
narrative
expressive
psychological

Of course many other adjectives describe "videogames," and many other nouns incorporate them, but this list can serve as an example of some of the medium's most important attributes.

After the list, a necessary consideration is that the designated label must be able to stand alone, without the use of preambles such as "piece of" or "work of." Simple pluralization must also be possible, and it should not be a homophone or homonym of any existing word.

What I have come up with at this point is, well, nothing yet, but I am wracking my brain to invent the perfect term.

While I may not have the revolutionary lexeme that will propel gaming past prepubescence, I do have my own input combined with the mental prowess of all of my fellow gamers, who may, after reading this article, agree that a change is necessary. If you have any good ideas, don't hesitate to send them my way via a comment or email.

EDIT 11/04: I was just looking up Latin roots, and came up with "syn" (together) and "peritus" (experience).

Perisyn? sounds funny, doesn't it? Hmm...drawing board awaits...
Synper? Sinper? Syper? Sype?
Sype? (long i sound)

To me, the most important words are interactive and experience. Videogames are more than just entertainment, so I use experience. Their interactivity is what separates them from other mediums, so that descriptor is paramount. The word virtual may be useful, but I feel it sort of unnecessary because the act of gaming is real even though the content is fictional. Rather, the word thematic better describes their content.

The root for thematic is "tesme" (silent s). For our purposes "tem" would suffice, I guess.
The word participate could also take the place of interactive

I think sype is growing on me... "I'm going to buy a couple of sypes." "Sypers love Xbox." "Syping is a growing hobby in the US."

Is Silence Golden? Not Always

Throughout the years, I've become familiar with all manner of games, presented in a myriad of ways and told from many different perspectives. One particular method of delivering a gaming experience to the audience has always captured my attention, and that is through the use of the silent protagonist. At times, I feel this technique works perfectly, but on other occasions, it just doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense.

The silent protagonist was not always an intentional device. Back when gaming was young, and technology was...low, putting voices in videogames was barely an option to be considered. It wasn't until CD-based software that speech could be included on a grand scale. Now, the capacity of game media has grown so much that character voice-overs are a somewhat ubiquitous feature. Why, then, do developers still choose to keep certain lead characters silent? Furthermore, why are there games without voice-overs that still don't include even written dialog for the main character?

It is true that sometimes players are meant to feel like they are walking in the protagonist's shoes, but how effective can that be in the types of games that most often feature silent heroes? Putting a voice to a character may hinder a player's ability to properly identify with them, but oftentimes the plot itself is enough to do so. For some reason, silent protagonists tend to show up in games that rely on heavy narrative and storytelling.

Role-playing games are notorious for their silent heroes, and it just doesn't make much sense to me. Here is a genre whose main focus is to tell an epic tale, from beginning to end - like a novel. As such, character development is paramount in these games, so how does one justify skimping on the most important character in the game? You may argue that in silence, character development can still be achieved, but without a voice (be it spoken or written) these characters INSTANTLY lose a measure of personality and also distance the audience from more completely understanding their thoughts, motives, and behaviors.

Perspective is important. When you play Chrono Trigger, for example, or even The Legend of Zelda, you are essentially watching a story unfold before your eyes. The entirety of the game is viewed from a third-person perspective. There can be little fusion of identity if the player is never allowed to actually embody the character in question. The presence of the character in the player's visual field acts only as a barrier. I am me, Link is Link, and can I see where I end and where he begins. We are not one.

On the other hand, sometimes the idea of a silent protagonist is very effective. Gordon Freeman of the Half-Life series (and others like him) is a very loosely defined character, and is therefore very easy to "turn into." Gamers know only a few things about him, and the rest comes via gameplay - through interactions with other characters and participation in the game's events. The silent lead experiences and, more importantly, responds to it all no differently than the player does.

Perspective is still key. The first-person point-of-view is the most effective for use with a silent protagonist. Players share their eyes, ears, hands, feet, and, of course, voice. Again, the stimulus and the response for both the player and the character are equivalent. These games don't play like storybooks.

Of course there will be stories where the main character is actually a damn mute, but barring all of those games, I feel the silent protagonist should be implemented only where it makes sense. When the gamer is meant to become a character, a voice is unnecessary; when the gamer is meant to behold a character, he or she should speak.