Thursday, October 28, 2004 Thursday, October 28, 2004

The greatest ever letter of rejection arrived today.

Sorry for taking so long to get around to replying to your application, but we've recently moved to a new location. Anyway, because we've moved, we've decided to review our our staffing needs and we've just realised that we don't actually need anybody for the jobs we advertised after all. We might get back in touch with you when we've defined some roles that we do need people for, so hey, hang in there.

Paraphrasing, natch. There are just three things I can think of saying in reply to all of that:

1) You.
2) Fucking.
3) Morons.

Telling me that I made the shortlist before you realised that the shortlist wasn't needed anyway doesn't make the fact that you made a complete pig's ear of things any less annoying/pathetic/hilarious, you goons.

E. Randy Dupre's brain told him to write this at 15:19


New addiction: Irem's R-Type Final.

The R-Type series is legendary. Even if you've not played any of the games, chances are that you know the name or have seen certain images from them. Most likely one of the first two bosses out of the very first episode.

There's a lot to love about R-Type. The storyline has developed over the years into a wonderfully trashy piece of pulp sci-fi. In the year 25XX, for want of anything better to do, humanity creates a species of techno-organic superweapon that they call Bydo. The Bydo get locked away off-planet, with the plan being to activate them whenever a threat appears. Something goes wrong - inevitably - and the Bydo are awakened too early. With nobody else to attack, they decide to have a pop at their creators. Humanity wins and chucks the remaining Bydo into another dimension. Where, surprise surprise, they evolve and get angry. Zoom back to 2112, and a manned space flight finds a techno-organic lifeform with DNA similar to our own floating about. It's taken back to Earth, where experiments on it lead to the creation of a new shield/weapon system for off-world fighters. That's when the rest of the Bydo find the hole that leads them back into their dimension of origin, four hundred years before their birth and still angry.

See? Wonderfully trashy. What further cements it is that Irem have even gone to the trouble of creating a series timeline (although that version ends at R-Type II and the only complete one I can find is on the official series site in Japanese - this is where Babelfish is your friend). Mind you, to the best of my knowledge the whole alternate dimension/time travel/human-created weapon bit is new to the storyline as of Final.

Other stuff to love: the visual design. The Bydo - those that are less techno and more organic - are pure sexual body horror. Dobkeratops, the first boss, is a total Aliens rip, rolling both the adult Alien and the Chestburster into one single organism, which is a bit of a cheap way of pushing naughty bits symbolism on the audience, but level two's guardian - Cyst - is, as far as I'm aware, a complete original. The way it pulses and throbs is dirty and nasty and everything that alien beasties should be. Well, if you're shooting them, that is. Then there's the detail and colour that went into the first two games, streets ahead of the competition.

Also: the Force. This is the shield/weapon system mentioned up there in the backstory, and it revolutionised the use of powerups in shooters. Instead of simply being an automatic improvement to your craft, proper use of the Force requires a level of skill. It can be detached from your ship whenever you want, which adds a tactical layer to a genre that previously had a pretty basic template. Detaching it makes it act as a battering ram first of all, then it sits wherever it was fired off and provides its own stream of bullets. Call it back to you and you can position it either at the front or rear of your ship to act as a shield - getting it onto the right end of the ship asks you to use some skill, as you need to position the ship so that it hits the correct part. Not easy when the screen's filled with baddies.

And all this is present and correct in Final. But that's not what makes it so enjoyable, nor the real point for this post.

Y'see, Final proves that extra time spent on presentation can turn an otherwise decent game into something very, very special indeed (note: there's 'extra time spent on presentation' and there's 'extra time spent on presentation'. One - as demonstrated by this game - is a good thing. The other - as demonstrated by EA - is, at best, fairly pointless. Forcing unsuitable licenced music into a game != an intelligent use of resources).

First up, the storyline is pushed to the fore here, but not in a way that drags the player's focus away from the game itself. When you start the game you get a choice of two or three ships to pilot. The more time you put into it, the more ships you open up, with the final tally hitting 101. A Museum option in the menus takes you into a room where you can view all your ships, along with descriptions of them, and it's here that the story and history of the series is pushed. Some tie into other games in the series, some into other Irem shmups (creating a persistant, cross-title universe in the process). Each looks different from the last and there are a huge number of different weapons systems to put into effect. Which, of course, changes how the game plays and brings with it a whole new set of challenges and an extended lifespan. Where some craft will take down the enemy from a distance in a matter of seconds, others make you get up close and personal. The game suddenly becomes as difficult or easy as you make it.

And the detail on these ships is ridiculous, in a good way. Everything fits together to form a perfectly coherent universe. You can unlock the POW craft - the weaponless pods that contain beneficial items in game - as a player-controllable ship, and its fully-powered red laser takes the form of a hearbeat on an electrocardiogram monitor. A tiny detail which other games would never bother with, but which adds so much. Another ship - named 'Sweet memories' - uses a beam shot that, the description informs us, is a physical manifestation of the pilot's nightmares. Use it in the game and, as it hits one of the Bydo (who are pretty much a manifestation of human nightmares themselves), it reverses polarity, the explosion appearing as an image of beauty - a rose in full bloom, Greek pillars, a Shaolin temple, Rodin's The Thinker. You show me another shmup that has that kind of hidden symbolism in one minor section that many player will never even encounter.

Then there are the player records. Time played, number of launches, total Force power stored... the game keeps a track of some ridiculously minute details. On its own this would be a completely superfluous addition, but alongside everything else it acts like a stats screen in an RPG and further creates the feeling that you're shaping the game through your actions. Unlockable 'awards' records are in a seperate menu option and do much the same thing, keeping a record of when each stage was reached, when a certain number of ships were unlocked in the museum, when a certain number of hours were notched up on the in-game clock.

Then there's the Bydo Lab. Every enemy you meet on the journey gets added to it, each - like the player ships - with its own description. They even keep track of how many of each you've destroyed as you've played.

Little things, things that are pointless on their own, but all go together to let you feel that you're personalising the game. It's remarkable just how much that can add to the experience.

Hidden levels, alternate endings. These, too, add a huge amount. A musical soundscape that's at odds with the usual shmup fare, but works perfectly. Level one, for example, just features the occasional hollow drumbeat, no melody whatsoever, odd technological howls every now and again. Level three, where you face a giant mothership just above a sprawling human city, is accompanied by a piece of Hollywood disaster movie classical.

Everything here is designed to create mood. It's Final, remember - the last-ditch battle with the ultimate enemy. Even the title screen works to this end - four pillars poking out of the sea at sunset, it's only after a while that you realise that they're the back end of a sunken Force unit.

The reason for this being on my mind? Gradius V. Now, I've really been enjoying GV an awful lot, but Final has made me re-evaluate it. In terms of game mechanics and ignoring everything else, GV probably takes the prize, even though they're markedly different types of shmup - Final is slow, deliberate, GV is more manic and, at points, close to a bullet hell shmup. The problem is, Final's presentation actually does change the way the game plays, makes it better than it would be without it. This is why: if you get frustrated with your lack of progress in GV, you've got no option other than to turn it off and do something else. In Final, on the other hand, there's so much more to do. Open up some more ships, try to get access to one of the hidden levels, find some more pieces of hidden artwork. Let yourself get pulled into the universe and its history. The time and effort that's gone into ensuring that the player keeps on coming back for more is evident in Final. GV, on the other hand, refuses to compromise.

I hope that Irem stick to their guns and make sure that this is the last in the series, simply because it's going to be near-impossible to create a better overall package than this. Because that's what Final is, above all else: a package. More than the sum of its parts.

Check out the trailer at the Eidos site, which is nicely understated and does a relatively good job of creating doom-laden, 'last hope' atmosphere itself. US game trailer in accurate representation shocker!

E. Randy Dupre's brain told him to write this at 01:00


Wednesday, October 27, 2004 Wednesday, October 27, 2004

peel tribute image

E. Randy Dupre's brain told him to write this at 22:44


Tuesday, October 19, 2004 Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Out of fear that I might be about to burn myself out wrt 'arcade' games (Viewtiful Joe, Outrun 2 and Gradius V have eaten up some serious time in the last few weeks) I decided to have another run through Metroid Prime.

Ashamed to say it, but I'd forgotten just how good it is. Blame it on two things - my previous game ending with a 99.9% completion rate (or whatever - scanned everything bar one enemy that only appears once during the entire game) and Nintendo's pathetic European support. It's amazing that the second of those things should still be an issue, but it really is. With the Gamecube, they've repeated exactly the same mistakes they made with the N64 - they push European release dates back until the Christmas rush, which means that eight months of the year have to be filled with third-party titles. And, of course, third-party support for Nintendo consoles is virtually non-existant.

I mean, what have we had on the Cube this year? Mario Golf and Pokemon Stadium. That's it. Japan and America, on the other hand, have seen a constant stream of new games. Now that October's here we can expect to see all their big-name titles squashed into three or four months, condemning at least half of them to poor sales. Sure, things may show signs of changing (decent UK TV and print ads for the first time ever), but I shouldn't imagine it's much consolation for those Cube owners who haven't had access to other consoles or import titles during 2004.

But that's all beside the point. The point is that Metroid Prime remains one of this generation's most affecting games. I'd argue that it's the most solid game yet created - the first time that I can remember where a first-person perspective title has offered a world where the technology being used in its creation is completely transparent. You'll never notice that the scenery is made up of independent shapes, nor that the patterns covering it have been painted on. Instead, you *are* in the middle of some ancient ruins, trudging through deep snow or finding your way through a crashed, half-submerged spaceship. The framerate is locked - you're never pulled out of the experience by having your view the world around you suddenly start to judder.

So, in purely technical terms, it's flawless. More importantly, it combines technical expertise with an aristry that's not often seen in video games. Look to the tiny spot effects, especially those centred on your visor - raindrops fall onto it and evaporate, condensation builds up as you pass steam vents, water streaks off as you jump out of lakes and rivers, your face is reflected in it for a split second if you're stood next to an explosion. Look to the environments - dusty ruins, sand blowing around when the breeze gets up, nature peeking through the cracks - trees that have erupted from between floor tiles, wasps' nests in the corners of deserted temples. You revisit the spacecraft you broke into on the training level, only now it's crashed into a lake, live wires haning from the ceiling, the floor askew, fluorescent moss growing in patches, schools of tiny fish snaking their way between collapsed pillars. A winter landscape with snowflakes filling the white sky, floating gently to the ground, your feet scrunch-scrunch-scrunching through the drifts, ice peeking through where the snow's yet to fall. Even the more technologically advanced areas feel like they're under attack from nature - the mines, all pumping pistons and pneumatic movements are etched into sheer rock faces which crumble as you walk past.

It's the sense of immersion that all this provides which marks the game out as a high-point for the form. Metroid is a game that's all about isolation, and that feeling of isolation would be impossible to create effectively if the world had any visible seams. You're always on your own here. Wall coverings talk about you as the Hunter of the ancient civilisation's prophecies, but never to you. The only life native to the planet takes the form of plants or silent, largely unintelligent creatures. The decay even extends to the invading Space Pirates, your enemies - their bases are staffed with a skeleton crew, full of failing computer systems, the leftovers of their biological experiments. The boss encounter in their mines base is s genetically modified super-soldier driven insane by the processes which gifted him his strength.

And it's cinematic without ever pushing cut-scenes on the player. The story is told through the aforementioned prophecies and computer systems. The game's scanning mechanism is an inspired addition, asking the player to read the background story while playing and as part of the game experience. Sticking all read text into a number of log books just makes this story seem even more integral to the experience.

Top class game. The only minor problem is that, very occasionally, extended play sessions can lead to the feeling of isolation becoming suffocating. I'm not even sure that's a negative point - it shows just how effective the game is in pulling you into the world and situation.

Slightly worried about the soon come sequel, though. Concessions to those who found Prime a little too different could remove some of the individuality that makes it so memorable. Multiplayer? The choice of a standard FPS control system? Both of these sound unsuitable, to say the least. Regardless, I'll be picking it up as soon as. Simply more of the same in a new world would do for me.

E. Randy Dupre's brain told him to write this at 19:18


Saturday, October 16, 2004 Saturday, October 16, 2004
My lingering doubts about the Nintendo DS have all disappeared thanks to this advert. This is no Virtual Boy, no desperate gimmick to try and wrestle back the limelight from Sony's PSP. This might just be the biggest, most important thing ever to hit gaming. Nintendogs alone is going to introduce handheld gaming to a whole new demographic, but combine that with the clips from Made in Wario/Wario Ware (Chop flying vegetables! Keep a plate spinning! Make someone sneeze by tickling their nostril!) and that surgery game, the name of which I've forgotten, and you just know that a huge number of the people who normally display a snotty attitude towards the medium are going to get that tickly "I want one" feeling.

E. Randy Dupre's brain told him to write this at 15:28


Wednesday, October 13, 2004 Wednesday, October 13, 2004
UK resistance provide 50 reasons to buy Outrun 2.

E. Randy Dupre's brain told him to write this at 20:46


Wednesday, October 06, 2004 Wednesday, October 06, 2004
WARNING FOREVER

A bit of a hero of the homebrew scene, Warning Forever. No levels as such, just boss after boss after boss, each one similar to the last, just with more turrets added. You've got two different shots to take them down with. First is a standard, forward-firing laser, second a rotating alternative which you can fire in any direction and/or alter the spread of shots it fires. You've got two buttons - one fires, the other switches between modes.

Nice visual design, all green-on-black wireframe 2D. Sound design follows the same less-is-more ruleset.

You're awarded infinite lives, but every death will rob you of 20 seconds from the Game Over countdown. Score is based on a number of factors, including speed of destruction, destruction chains (taking out adjoining limbs) and the strength of the base unit when destroyed (the central section of the boss - limbs are easiest to destroy when they're only linked to another at one end, but offer fewer points, the base unit is worth huge points if destroyed while still connected to a number of limbs but takes far more punishment before it explodes. Juggle it - do you take the enemy out part by part, giving yourself fewer attacks to dodge and more room for maneuver, or do you go for the big points by concentrating all your fire on the central section from the beginning of the level?).

Oh, and the boss apparently evolves into different forms depending on how you go about destroying it. Not that I've noticed this myself - I still can't get past level 12.

E. Randy Dupre's brain told him to write this at 11:35


Saturday, October 02, 2004 Saturday, October 02, 2004
Only just found out that Channel Five are showing The Invaders (a show which, rather disgracefully, has *still* not been picked up by anyone for DVD release). This is very, very good news. The downer? It's on Sundays at 4:20AM. Set the video.

E. Randy Dupre's brain told him to write this at 16:37


Losing the fight against mediocrity for the last few years.

Fire a volley

A HISTORY OF FUTILE CONFILCTS
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BATTLE-HARDENED COMRADES
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