Tom Bissell says that “Superman games are legendarily bad” and asks the question:

What comprises interesting gameplay for a character that is essentially immortal?

What Bissell is inadvertently touching on here is the fact that — with the exception of puzzle games and sports simulators — virtually every video game in existence is fundamentally rooted in either D&D, Space Invaders, or both. And what both D&D and Spacer Invaders have in common (and thus virtually every video game ever made has in common) is that they define success as “killing the bad guy” and they define failure as “you die”.

(Technically, it would be more accurate to say Spacewar! instead of Space Invaders, but everybody knows what Space Invaders is and almost no one knows what Spacewar! is. And, of course, there are endless variations on the “kill” and “die” conditions. But I digress…)

So, yes, as long as you intrinsically define gameplay as “either you die or the bad guy dies”, designing a Superman game that doesn’t suck is going to be pretty much impossible. And, unfortunately, Superman doesn’t seem to easily lend himself to blended puzzle or sim gameplay. (For example, the original Prince of Persia: Sands of Time largely eliminated the kill-or-die mechanics, but it did so by introducing puzzle-style gameplay.)

Another option might be making the goals of the game exterior to Superman as a character. (In other words, you can still fail at your goals even if there’s never any real chance that your avatar in the game will die.) What probably won’t work well, however, would be simply pushing the kill-or-die mechanics onto secondary characters. (An entire game of escort quests featuring Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen? Kill me now.)

I’m not going to pretend to have the magical solution. But open question: What alternative forms of gameplay could a Superman game use that would be fun to play?

Tom Bissell has an interesting piece on Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim over here. He’s trying to figure out why everything is wonderful about Skyrim… except the NPC dialogue.

He talks about a lot of things: That the game becomes cinematically boring (due to a fixed camera angle and a lack of action) during the dialogue. That the actual dialogue is terrible, forced, and false. That the voice acting, hampered by the poor writing and lack of context, is bland and weak. That there’s a lack of creatively-directed animation, which means every NPC is just a plastic, flapping mouth animation.

Based on my previous experience with Bethesda games, I’m guessing that this is all 100% true.

But I think most of this is just a symptom of a problem that Bissell struggles to put his finger on. A quick excerpt:

It surely says something that even my most fervent Skyrim-loving friends cop to skipping through the expository narrative sequences. They laugh when they admit this, and it’s a nervous, uncomfortable laugh — a laugh that suggests they’re wondering why they do this. I’ll tell them: Because the stuff they’re skipping is so bad that it makes the rest of the game seem like a waste of time, which it’s not. When many of a game’s biggest fans are unable to endure large parts of that game, it may be time to reexamine the vitality of certain aspects of the experience. Just for starters, not every merchant in Skyrim needs a dialogue tree concerning his or her personal history. Not every Jarl needs to offer you the chance to learn about his town’s ostensibly fascinating history. Why make every character a walking lore dump when lore can be more effectively embodied in the world and environments? After all, the world and environments are already there in Skyrim; they’re quite literally everywhere you look, gushing all manner of wonderfully implied lore. And they’re beautiful. Like most who play Skyrim, I’m greatly drawn to these incredible environments because the act of exploring them becomes uniquely my experience. When I’m listening to and watching Skyrim’s interminable characters, I’m skipping through the same dumb cartoon everyone else is.

I think what Bissell is trying to identify, under all of this, is a pretty simple principle: The lack of interactivity in video game dialogue.

Everything else about the Elder Scroll games positively bristles with interactivity: You can go anywhere. You can do practically anything.

But as soon as you start talking to an NPC, the game locks down and your interaction with the game world goes away. Oh, sure, you’ve got dialogue options to choose from. But at least 95% of these boil down to you simply selecting the next topic the NPC is going to lecture you about. It never feels like the NPCs are actually talking to you; it always feels like they’re just talking at you.

The old Ultima games used to have a dialogue system in which you could type in keywords to provoke responses from NPCs. Within the limitations of the technology at the time, this was extremely interactive. But then the entire industry (including the later Ultima games) took a step backwards and simply generated the applicable list of keywords so that you could select between them.

And the industry really hasn’t done anything to update dialogue interaction since then.

I’m not saying that we need to go back to keyword input. (That’s marginally more interactive, but not by much. You’re still just topic-selecting.)

The marginal exception to this is Bioware, who have consistently pushed for deeper and more meaningful choices within their dialogue systems. The industry needs to look at their games and then push even farther. The industry needs to make dialogue interactions just as fun; just as interesting; and just as exciting as the rest of the game. And they can do that by abandoning the concepts of “topic selection” and “exposition pumping”, and instead focus on how actual conversations operate.

Speaking of the virtues of strategic gaming, the Humble Bundle program is offering up a suite of Introversion games including Uplink, which is one of the most immersive computer games ever made (and which achieves that immersion by anachronistically eliminating save games and enforcing real-time strategy-based play).

For those unfamiliar with the Humble Bundle program, they put together packages of indie games which you can then buy by naming your own price. Not only can you name your own price, but a chunk of the money you pay is donated to charity. (And you get to specify exactly how much goes to charity and how much goes to the game designers.)

For those unfamiliar with Uplink, you assume the role of a computer hacker accepting jobs from anonymous clients to break into data systems around the globe. And when I say “assume the role”, I really mean it: The game takes the form of a client interface. The actual hacking is takes the form of fictional “awesome hacking”, but everything about the experience makes it feel like something you’re really doing and not just playing.

In addition to the extraordinary Uplink, the bundle also includes Defcon, Darwinia, Multiwinia, Crayon Physics, and Aquaria. (The last two games are bonuses and were not designed by Introversion.) Really, you can’t go wrong here. (Particularly since you can name your own price.)

Check it out.

I am going to quote something at length from the CRPG Addict because I think it’s important:

The problem [in The Bard’s Tale] is, it costs a lot to resurrect a dead character, especially a high-level dead character. Resurrecting six dead characters cost way more than I had at this point. I had to create a dummy character just to exit the Guild. I was able to resurrect one character immediately, but to get the other five, I had to build up my savings. It took a good three hours before they were all happy and healthy again.

It sounds horrible, especially to modern gamers, but I actually really, really like this aspect of The Bard’s Tale. Death isn’t a game-killer the way it is in Wizardry, but boy does it have consequences. Since you can only save in the Guild of Adventurers, every dungeon foray is a risk, creating a palpable tension as you wander your way through the passages. And every once in a while, you stumble into an encounter like this one (there were actually two more on this same level, with a dragon and a high-powered wizard) that makes your stomach drop and an expletive escape your lips.

Modern games make it far too easy. In something like Baldur’s Gate, you would save every five or ten minutes. If you stumble on to a soul sucker, you might treat the first battle against him like a test run. If your characters die–or, heck, even just lose more hit points than you want to spare–no problem. Just reload and run the encounter again with the experience at your back…

Because of the frequent save points, modern games depend on the difficulty of individual battles to make the games challenging. In The Bard’s Tale, Wizardry, and other games of the era I’m playing, there are plenty of difficult individual battles, but it’s the totality of the expedition that brings the difficulty. You must constantly strategize. How much gold do I need to get from this encounter to make the “trap zap” spell worthwhile? What should I set as my bottom hit point threshold before I return to the surface? Do I want to expend 15 spell points on this group of wights, or take the risk that they’ll turn me into a crippling old man with one touch? I’ve only got 15 squares left to map on this level, but my characters only have 1/2 their hit points. Should I press on or go back?

Exhilarating. Fortunately, I have a lot of games like this left to play.

In computer games, this is a trend which extends beyond CRPGs. In FPS games, for example, Halo ushered in the era of rechargeable shields/stamina and ending an era in which players shepherded health packs and treated entire missions as strategic challenges (instead of a string of tactical encounters).

If this sounds familiar, it should. Tabletop RPGs have been embracing the same trends, starting with a My Precious Encounter(TM) design ethos for published adventures and then hard-coding that design ethos into the game system.

Allow me to emphasize this one last time with two key pull quotes:

Modern games depend on the difficulty of individual battles to make the games challenging.

In [older games] there are plenty of difficult individual battles, but it’s the totality of the expedition that brings the difficulty.

Obviously this is a design ethos which has been most strongly championed by WotC in the 4th Edition of D&D (and then pushed even farther in D&D Gamma World). But it can be seen cropping up in a lot of places.

The argument can, of course, be made that this tactical focus is “more fun”: You’ll never end up trapped in the lower levels of the dungeon (nor will you figure out a clever way to escape). You’ll never find yourself desperately low on health (nor feel the exhilaration of overcoming the cyber-demon between you and the next health pack). You’ll never need to make a tough choice about whether to use your spells now or later (nor experience the satisfaction of blowing away an opponent with your well-earned stockpile of powerful enchantments).

But, ultimately, I think there’s a reason why we refer to “strategy and tactics” as a matched pair: They go together hand-in-hand. They complement each other. They improve each other. Strategic decisions shape (and re-shape) the immediacy of tactical play, naturally resulting in varied and disparate tactical challenges that must be overcome.

Of course, there will still be a great deal of variance in My Precious Encounters(TM) scenario design. (That is, after all, the “precious” part of carefully crafting your “perfect” encounters.) But in my experience, the result still feels curiously bland. Maybe in this encounter you’re fighting a couple of big brutes and in the next encounter you’re surrounded by grunts. But the encounters still all seem to follow the same basic trajectory.

This is probably unsurprising, of course: By removing the strategic portion of the game, you’ve gutted a huge chunk of meaningful choice and consequence. In other words, you’ve crippled the gameplay.

Every so often I’ll indulge in what I call a “mythos delve”. This is where I’ll just dive wholeheartedly into whatever transmedia empire has transfixed my attention. A few years ago it was Star Wars. Before that Heavy Gear, The Matrix (this one was easier), Star Trek, and so forth. (This exploration of multi-faceted fictional milieus is undoubtedly part of what I find appealing about RPGs.)

Most recently, the Halo franchise has captured my attention. A little less than a decade ago, I played both Halo: Combat Evolved and Halo 2, but then the franchise jumped to the Xbox 360 and I didn’t. That recently changed, however, and I started playing my way through the older games as prep for the newer ones. In the interim, I had also acquired the first three Halo novels from the $1 racks at Half-Price Books, which brings us here.

HALO: COMBAT EVOLVED (Bungie Studios): I’m not going to attempt anything even remotely resembling a full review of the Halo video games. (Largely because that would be redundant and pointless.) But what I will say is this: The original video game was basically Ringworld + Starship Troopers + zombies. That’s a pretty awesome premise.

HALO – THE FALL OF REACH (Eric Nylund): I bring that up primarily because the premise for The Fall of Reach can basically be summed up as Ender’s Game + Starship Troopers.

This proves to be an effective and entertaining variation on the themes of the original game. By shifting the underlying tropes of the story, Nylund manages to weave a tale which is true to the original without merely rehashing its content. (This can be a very fine line for tie-in fiction to tread: If you simply retread the original the result is repetitive and dull — like looking at something that’s been xeroxed too many times. If you chart your own course, on the other hand, you can end up violating the reader’s sense of how the fictional universe should work.)

Unfortunately, the training sequences lack the cleverness and unique insight which make Ender’s Game or The Hunger Games into effective young adult literature by bringing the reader along on the protagonist’s journey of discovery.The military ops are handled with more cleverness and detail, but end up being just a trifle too disjointed: They’re effective vignettes, but don’t feel like a cohesive narrative building towards some greater climax.

With that being said, if you’re a fan of Halo — or just a fan of military SF — this is a book worth checking out. It’s a fun read that kept me turning the pages.

(As a tangential note, I was amused when this book made me aware — for the very first time — that the SPARTANs are supposed to be super-fast. One of the things I had always kind of liked about Halo was the more slow / more-realistic pace it had compared to other shooters of the time. Discovering that it was actually supposed to be representing superhuman speed only served to drive home how completely inferior console controls are for first-person shooters.)

HALO – THE FLOOD (William C. Dietz): The back cover pitch for The Flood is that it will depict the events from the first video game from alternative points of view. That actually sounded really interesting to me: One of the things I really enjoyed about Halo: Combat Evolved was the implication that there was a wider, guerrilla-style war being fought across the surface of Halo as both the UNSC and Covenant forces explored this strange and alien world. Between the armed conflict, the mega-relics of the Forerunners, and the emerging threat of the Flood itself, there’s a ton of potential for developing original material while capitalizing on the video game narrative itself by showing the Master Chief’s journey (and its impact) through the eyes of others.

Unfortunately, the back cover pitch was lying to me. 80% of the book is just a novelization of the game (which is precisely as interesting as you would imagine a faithful novelization of a first-person shooter would be). The rest is just bland cliche starring a rotating cast of dimwitted stereotypes who have been hit over the head a few too many times with the Stupid Protagonist Hammer.

This is a book you should definitely skip.

HALO – FIRST STRIKE (Eric Nylund): One of the most fantastic and fascinating aspects of media consumption is the act of closure. In Understanding Comics, Scott McCloud refers to this phenomenon as “blood in the gutters”, demonstrating how the space between one panel and the next forces the reader to perform a creative act: “Here, in the limbo of the gutter, the human imagination takes two separate images and transforms them into a single idea.” He uses the example of showing a serial killer raising an axe in one panel and then “hearing” the victim scream off-panel in the next. “I may have drawn a raised axe in this example, but I’m not the one who let it drop or decided how hard the blow, or who screamed, or why. That, dear reader, was your special crime, each of you committing it in your own style.” (The parallel to a horror film in which a victim is killed off-screen is obvious.)

But this phenomenon, in my opinion, is not limited to small events. And one of the dangers of tie-in fiction which attempts to “fill in the gaps” between one story and the next is that it can very easily start screwing with the closure which the viewer has already provided. This creates a natural friction and resistance from the reader as the foreign, incompatible material tries to “wipe out” their own creative response.

This is a problem which First Strike — which seeks to fill in the gap between Halo and Halo 2 — runs into headlong. And it’s severely exacerbated by some significantly inaccurate handling of continuity from Halo 2 (which may be at least partially the result of Nylund writing the book before the game was finished).

With that being said, Nylund succeeds once again at giving us an entertaining pulp romp through the Halo universe. The military ops are once again clever and varied, and Nylund also succeeds at bringing to life a cast of supporting characters that give the book depth and significance.

GRADES:

HALO – THE FALL OF REACH: C+
HALO – THE FLOOD: F
HALO – FIRST STRIKE: C-

Eric Nylund / William C. Dietz / Eric Nylund
Published: 2001 / 2003 / 2003
Publisher: Del Rey
Cover Price: $6.99 / $6.99 / $6.99
ISBN: 0345451325 / 0345459210 / 0345467817
Buy Now!