Batshit Insanity

I shouldn’t like comic book games. I don’t even read comic books. I’m pretty sure I haven’t even touched one. My only experiences with super hero characters are watching the big-budget Hollywood adaptations of the last decade and loyally following Batman: The Animated Series as a child. I was Batman crazy as a kid, despite never reading a single comic book. I had the figurines. I had the clothes. I had the video tapes. I had everything but the comic books. And now, here I am, enjoying the sequel to what I thought was one of the best games to come out in 2009, and reliving my first ever fanboy years. Batman: Arkham City, simply put, is wonderful, stupendous stuff. Rocksteady should be proud of every aspect of the game: everything is just so well organized and crafted, and completely worthy of every single ounce of praise.

I have to admit, I had my initial doubts before release. The number of villains—which I originally thought would become a major flaw because I believed it would cause the game to lose its focus, much like many Batman films beforehand—actually helps the narrative rather than becoming detrimental to it. I always found it interesting how people were interwoven with one another, in and out of the main story, and how Batman reacts and uses each relationship to his advantage. Another interesting thing—and I find this is true in most Batman media, but Rocksteady manages to do it better in their own way—is that we’re reminded of Batman’s unmovable morality throughout the entirety of the game, whether it’s during the main story or one of the many side missions. He stands only for his idea of justice; a kind of anti-utilitarian guardian trying to maximize happiness for everyone, including his enemies, all while being incredibly stoic and unflinching, devoid of any humanity save for a brief moment of remembrance in a dark alley.

We see Bats almost lose his qualities later in the game, and it makes playing the last few story missions much more exciting. To see Batman argue with Alfred and the Oracle on what he should accomplish next was an absolutely pivotal moment in the game for me. I’m also extremely glad that Rocksteady didn’t succumb to making a lame morality system for Arkham City: it just wouldn’t work with Batman’s character. Granted, there is a small use of it during one of Catwoman’s missions, but the choice is so utterly obvious that it’s simply a non-issue.

The thrill of playing as Batman is the best part about the game. He doesn’t kill any of the many rapists, murderers, or any other misfits, instead opting to knock them unconscious with heavy-handed finishing moves in slow-motion, cadenced by a satisfying crunch of bone. Gliding around the city is also fantastic. You become enamored with the power you have looking down at the criminals in the alleyways, listening in on their fruitful conversations… it’s a nice touch by the developers in adding to the sense that you really are the Dark Knight. The feeling hasn’t exactly been perfected before in video games: replicating the power of a licensed character so accurately and realistically, even though said character is something so out-of-this-world in terms of stature and ideology. It’s simply amazing stuff.

That said, the story could’ve been tied together a bit better. It felt kind of strange having Batman carry out Joker’s corpse, though it makes perfect sense thematically, keeping in tune with the opening shot of the Catwoman content. Emotionally, the ending didn’t really click: it would have been a far more satisfying ending if Batman carried out Talia’s body. But then the story would become closed completely: carrying out Joker’s body allows for a continuation past the main story component, since Batman isn’t—and shouldn’t—be all that traumatized by Joker’s death to just go home and sulk. This allows for Talia’s possible resurrection, since her death isn’t really explored after the climatic final boss. Speaking of which, Clayface’s appearance during the last boss battle was a great little surprise, and didn’t feel completely shoe-horned in like the Titan-infected Joker in the last game.

Following Arkham Asylum was an enormous task to begin with, but Rocksteady succeeds, quite plainly and quite efficiently. While the main campaign is short, it’s poignant right to the end, bristling with goodies, cameos, and satisfying mechanics that will make any fan of Batman salivate. If that’s not enough, the side missions and challenges are always there, niggling at you to complete them. It would be absolutely astounding if you could completely finish the game in 20 hours. But length isn’t an issue here. After all, it’s the God damn Batman.

Fielding the Battle for Greatness

Battlefield 3 is just one of those games.

You’d think that after a third entry in the main stay franchise, a series of console spin-offs, and a glut of free play experiments, that you’d be tired of that same old tune. That’s true, to a certain extent, but it bodes well have a sense of familiarity in this case. My history with the franchise is spotty at best: in my youth I played a tremendous amount of Battlefield 1942 offline, waging war with shell-shocked bots because I lived in the middle of no-man’s land with nary an internet connection. When I delved deep into console gaming, I had left those memories behind. I recently rediscovered it, like many others, on the Xbox 360 with the advent of Battlefield 1943, and then again on the same console with Bad Company 2. Both games were great reintroductions into a system of gameplay that has pretty much been perfected since I played the first entry almost ten years ago.

And now we’re at Battlefield 3. To be honest, I’m not completely sure what to think of it yet. The marketing machine behind it is confusing. Is it a Battlefield game? Or is it built specifically to compete with Call of Duty? After your first hour or two with the multiplayer, it may seem more like the latter. The game places heavy emphasis on its upgrade path and statistics. What sets it apart—aside from the high res textures and shiny lens flares—is the pace of gameplay. Whereas Call of Duty focuses more on fast twitch, in-your-face, ADD close encounters, Battlefield, as it always has, opts for a more patient, long ranged affair. It’s a remarkable refreshing experience in the face of the Modern Warfare dominated industry we find ourselves in today, despite being a nearly decade old design. Yet despite this, battles still feel frantic, chaotic, and engrossing; you’ll just find yourself thinking and strategizing a bit more than usual if you’re used to the Call of Duty grind-fest.

It’s also quite apparent that DICE strives for realism in the game. The fidelity of the graphics is not the only indicator of this, but the gameplay mechanics as well. Vehicles are the most obvious indicator of realism. Jeeps are wickedly fast but fragile. Tanks feel like, well, tanks. And Helicopters and jets are notoriously difficult to control. Each type is complemented by nuanced visual details, such as HUDs in first person mode as well team indicators, which can sometimes play into a tactical advantage. And while vehicles play an important role in the overall flow of the multiplayer, they’re not exactly overpowered: DICE has done well in balancing the game, making everything vulnerable to something.

In the attempt to balance the game, however, is where the game faults at times, breaking the realism so that a tank can be repaired, or that a map is perfectly suitable for 64 player mayhem. Sometimes it’s forgivable, seeing as though the game has to remain fun somehow when your tank is on the fritz after a series of hits from an enemy RPG. But there are times when you realize that the realism has totally been broken. Operation Metro on Conquest mode is a superb example, reducing the game to a chaotic stillness where players spam bottlenecks with rockets and grenades in hope of trying to achieve something.

Aside from Operation Metro, however, the maps truly do shine. Aside from a few maps that focus on chokepoints, all the maps function pretty well on Conquest mode. Those that fail to impress on Conquest succeed on Rush mode, where bottlenecks become crucial in defending and attacking a M-COM. Granted, there are a few frustrations, such as spawning difficulties and lack of flanking in some areas, but it all balances out in the end, making for a more enjoyable than irritating experiences.

Whatever irritation you do feel about Battlefield 3 will probably poke through because of Battlelog, though that’s a far stretch especially when time progresses. You won’t find your problems with Battlelog’s user interface; in that respect it’s really slick and streamlined. Getting from one place to another on the site is really no problem. But in the early days of Battlefield 3’s release, it can be difficult to go a few hours without having a server disconnect once in a while, which really becomes a downer when you’re trying to find a specific game type on a specific map. Regardless, Battlelog is functional, pretty, and promising.

As far as the single player is concerned, I really haven’t touched it. I made it past the fighter jet level before I ultimately just got bored. During the short amount of time I did spend on it, I did like some of the ideas it presents, and the visual and audio flair along with it. The soundtrack is astounding, seemingly inspired by the memorable yet haunting synth of Apocalypse Now. The lighting, too, is just as awe inspiring. It just so happens that each interesting idea outside of what’s been mentioned is executed awkwardly, causing myself to lose interest fairly quick. This goes especially for the story, which hasn’t done anything to really grab my attention. It appears to be a case of replicating Black Ops’ rather bland roller coaster ride.

DICE has accomplished a lot with this game, making technological strides that will change the video game industry for the better. The amount of polish behind the visuals and sound is also matched by the almost-perfect online gameplay. And despite the fact that the single player campaign is dry as real desert combat, and that I haven’t tried the cooperative mode yet, Battlefield 3 earns my recommendation based on multiplayer alone. In the end, I’ve been really enjoying the game, and hope to continue playing it for years to come.

My Letter to Gabe

I once emailed Gabe Newell—a man who I greatly admire because of his unprecedented work in the video game industry—when I was at an exciting point in my life. This exciting point eventually turned into a boorish nightmare that slowly ate away at my critical and creative thinking. It is amazing how much of an effect a gap of only a month can have on your life. In my email I wrote:

“Hi Gabe,

As I start a new adventure tomorrow, I just wanted to write and let
you know just how much an impact you, your company, and your products
have had in my recent life choices. I know you're very busy and you
probably get tons of emails so I'll be as brief as possible.

A few months ago I graduated with an Arts degree, having studied
English and Film for four years. It was a great experience, no doubt.
In the past four years, I met many of my closest friends, developed my
analytical and critical thinking, and evolved my creative skill set.
But when I finished school I still didn't know what I was going to do
with my life. That was my problem. I had absolutely no direction,
because I thought I had chosen the wrong degree for getting a hold of
a steady job. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long to find out what I
wanted to do.

Conveniently, during my last round of examinations, you guys released
Portal 2, which I consider to be the best game I have played in recent
memory. Not only did I enjoy it immensely, but Portal 2 has also set
me on the right path. It kinda made me think a bit, and in that
process I suddenly knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life:
make video games. I feel like I've always wanted to do that... it's
just that Portal 2, a game of such high esteem that's almost unheard
of, came at the right time, at the right place, and made me realize
what I needed to do.

Tomorrow I start my second degree at Dalhousie University, taking
Computer Science, and eventually taking the Game Design
specialization.

Anyways, you probably get letters like this all the time. I just
wanted to let you know.

Keep making the best, and keep raising the bar.

Sincerely,

Chase Veinotte”

He never wrote back.

Not that it would’ve mattered. I have made my decision, and I’m sticking to it. Maybe thinking that I could make video games at this point was due to an overestimation of my ability to endure the boredom of a Computer Science degree, maybe it’s because I have a short attention span, I don’t know! Regardless, I think I’m finally comfortable knowing that all I want to do is write, and draw, and play video games for a living.

I mean, if a man like Jim Sterling or one of the many PR puppets at IGN can get paid to write about video games for a living, why can’t I? If hippies and social rejects can flood DeviantArt with abhorrently drawn fantasy characters closely resembling the inside of a landfill’s asshole and get praise for it, why can’t I? If people can make money just by posting some meaningless diatribe about their miserable lives on a website, why can’t I? “Why can’t I” seems to be a reoccurring question in my mind lately. Surely I have something more insightful and important to say? Surely I have enough knowledge and enthusiasm to write something coherent and interesting and informative and intelligent about the industries and hobbies I care deeply about.

Surely? Right?

A Loss of Interest

I don’t want to spend money to get bored. I want to have someone give me money to be bored.

That’s how I feel right now. It’s my second first year and fifth year at Dalhousie University, having already graduated once before. This time around I decided to dip my brain into the bubbling vat of Computer Science, and I find myself overwhelmed with the juices of boredom. I already find myself not only tired of it, but disliking it, at least to the extent of having already dropped Calculus a month before: a subject I had otherwise no interest in other than fulfilling a mandatory credit. I hadn’t taken any mathematics course for over four years. So I ask myself two months prior: what the flying fuck were you thinking? And now that I find myself two months into the first year of Computer Science, I’m starting to regret taking out that sizable student loan, as well as wanting to find a full time job so that I can start writing in my free time instead of being depressed and doing mundane and often difficult assignments.

Two months ago I was thinking “wouldn’t it be great to get a job in the video games industry?” And I thought the only way to do this was to obtain a degree in Computer Science. After all, the mediocre local studios often call for people with a degree in Computer Science, programmer or not. I didn’t want to become a programmer. I’ve heard way too many horror stories about the position from relatives, friends, and industry insiders; working too many hours, tyrant production leaders, lack of sleep, and underpaid salaries are just some of the many perks I’ve read about. So why did I take Computer Science? Well, I guess it would have, kind of, maybe guarantee me a job in any industry. But I don’t think I was prepared to witness just how dreadfully bored I would get in just my first month. I can see it’s a good degree to have, but I find myself just more and more disinterested in obtaining an education that requires me to write countless lines of code rather than beautifully constructed sentences.

I guess I got motivated to write this after leaving my dreadfully boring Computer Science class one dreary Monday afternoon. The ghastly and creepy professor, however nice and thoughtful he may be (he gave me a startling “good morning” when the class started at 12:30PM), went on about how we were only six weeks away from the end of the course. I found myself thinking “…dear God, really? Six more weeks of unadulterated shit that I’ll find myself not giving a single damn about?” I could barely keep in the sound of my grinding teeth. I was just frustrated as hell because this was false advertising: I didn’t think I’d have to sell my soul to the demons of boredom in order to have a completely boring and math-orientated desk job. Screw that.

And it doesn’t help that I take a completely demoralizing class in Astronomy. Again the professor, as wonderful as he is, is slowly—but surely—taking the bedazzling romanticism out of the great wonders of the universe and turning it into a hatred of 11^th grade physics equations. This program is just sapping me of any creativity I had managed to muster in my four year English degree. It’s maddening to see my line of thinking will inevitably turn into mush if I keep on doing this path. I already feel a loss of critical thinking, just because I’m temporarily bound to a mode of thought that just throws everything I knew beforehand out the window.

The only shining light of redemption is my Computer Ethics class. It encourages writing, to a certain extent. I decided to do the first assignment I had missed (because I joined the class late) on teabagging in Halo. I thought it was an interesting bit, funny even, though the subject matter and how I addressed it was a bit immature and un-academic. My second essay is a bit more elaborate and serious, touching on the sensitive subject of proprietary software why things like Microsoft Word should be free for everyone. And my third essay… well, there is no third essay. And those two essays I have to write? They’re only worth 25% of my mark. The rest of my mark goes towards participation and multiple choice question tests and quizzes. I’m a fan of neither. I’m the strong silent type of person and I tend to be selfish and keep to myself, so participating in class is not really something I’m a fan of. And multiple choice questions are something that prevented me from getting “A” grades in past classes, like Shakespeare, because I would fail them. All of the time. I just can’t read a book and memorize it. Hell, I can’t even remember what I wrote in the first two paragraphs of this personal paper. It just doesn’t work for me. Granted, the subject matter in Ethics is overall interesting, but I don’t think it’s doing any wonders for me. If anything, it’s making me appreciate my English degree even more. And that’s not going to bode very well.

In short, I don’t think school is for me anymore. I just want to be free, like in those hippy songs of old. I want to be free to do whatever I want, when I want, during my free time. I don’t want to be bound by due dates and shitty assignments. I just want to get a job, make some money, and do something I love on the side. I want to write. And I want to play and love video games, and MAYBE—and that’s a big MAYBE—make video games someday. But not by programming them. I want to write them, I want to craft game design documents that become bibles to a team of a hundred people. I want to tell stories and dissect them. And I want to see and discuss how others do the same. Most of all, I want to be a leader that dips his hand into every aspect of video game making, not just the programming bit; sound, art, level design, marketing, testing, writing… Taking a Computer Science degree, then, is not the right path for me, because I don’t like having things just sitting right in front of me anymore, especially things like my future. I want that to be open ended.

Now it’s just a matter of me thinking about what I want to do for the next two years…