Mirror's Edge and Cultural Synergy

Last year I saw a video featuring "Mirror's Edge-inspired parkour" and that got me thinking about that game. Time and time again, I have seen the name of Mirror's Edge pop up front and center whenever anybody talks about parkour in video games. If there's a discussion about freerunning in video games, Mirror's Edge will come up. If ever a game is modified to be more based around freerunning, that modification will often be labeled "Mirror's Edge-inspired." Parkour enthusiasts have rallied behind this game and adopted its art style as a symbol of the freerunning culture. What's the big deal? Last week I started up the game to find out.

For the uninitiated, Mirror's Edge is an action platforming game focused heavily on navigating through the world. The player character is armed only with a set of freerunning skills inspired by the acrobatic art of parkour. Instead of going down a beaten path, the player must climb to higher ground, leap across rooftops, run across walls, and generally use the urban terrain in any and every way to get from point A to point B. One aspect of the game that assists players is a mechanic called "Runner Vision," which represents the character's intuition for pathfinding. In the game, Runner Vision turns certain objects and platforms red to present a possible path or escape route. This often clashes highly with the game's normal pristine white environments and is part of the game's signature design.

The story introduces us to a dystopian city where the rich and powerful wield absolute control through coercion and surveillance. Any dissent is quickly put down. The only hope for any resistance is in a breed of athletic couriers called runners. The runners are the backbone of an information network that gives freedom fighters a chance. The player takes on the role of Faith Connors, a runner tasked with saving her sister's life and uncovering the truth of the ominous "Project Icarus."

Between chapters the story is told through more stylized animated cutscenes which have a bit of a noir feel

And let me tell you, this game is a wild ride all the way through. One moment you'll be freely leaping between rooftops. The next, you'll be running for your life from gunfire. The next, you'll find yourself indoors and needing to find your way up to an air vent. The next, chasing after a suspicious character who has information you need. Because the terrain is so important to how you progress, I can look at any set piece from this game and remember what it was like to find my way through it.

If you can't tell by now, I ended up liking the game. I'm not a parkour enthusiast myself, but watching their work and playing this game has clued me in to how they can swear by it and admit it into their culture. In fact, what I've observed researching this game rings true for many instances of video games based off of real-world cultures, hobbies, professions, etc.

First of all, Mirror's Edge is spot-on when it comes to simulating parkour with video game controls and a first-person perspective. Even if it's not perfect, you can tell a lot of effort and observation went into this game, and I think that's what really matters. There are plenty of games that feature characters that run and jump and navigate structures to get to their goals, but Mirror's Edge is one of the few first-person games that places it front and center. Barring moments when you may get stuck in a combat situation, you'll be running around and navigating terrain. In fact, the best idea when faced with enemies oftentimes is to find a route around and avoid them. You are encouraged to stay in motion and keep this about the freerunning, which is admirable.

You'll be seeing this view often as you tackle the game's many daunting jumps

It's worth mentioning that there is a rather neat combat system that incorporates your parkour skills, along with a gunplay aspect. Apparently the game's handling of guns leaves much to be desired, but I never bothered. And that's saying more about the athletic fisticuffs; I was having too much fun disarming opponents with well-timed counters and jump-kicking singled-out targets!

And that's the thing about video games which makes it exciting when there is one made based off of a real-life interest. A game can be as grounded in realism as much or as little the designers want it to be. Just because a game is realistic in some ways doesn't mean it can't be exaggerated in other ways for the sake of an enjoyable playing experience. In Mirror's Edge, failing a jump can cause you damage or kill you. If you take a jump slowly or from the wrong angle, it will take you more time to recover from it. If you approach the jump at the right angle while running at top speed, you can leap over obstacles and pull yourself up to higher ground faster. Those make sense because you're able to build up momentum and from a game standpoint you're rewarded for moving efficiently. Meanwhile, Faith always has perfect balance, never fails a saving roll after a high jump, and is generally never subjected to little unavoidable human errors that often lead to injury. Case in point, someone I know is learning parkour and he once hit his head on the ground practicing a standard rolling procedure. Faith will never do that. When you tell her to roll, she rolls and that's that.

The point I'm getting at is how there is some element of homage whenever a real-world interest inspires the mechanics of a video game. I can imagine there's something flattering to parkour enthusiasts about a video game in which the player saves the day with "the power of parkour," so to speak. Faith's freerunning skills are an exaggeration of real-life capabilities to present a flattering and entertaining image of parkour that can be enjoyed by everyone, enthusiast or non.

Here is the video that inspired this discussion. I believe the performer is intentionally emulating the feel of the game, which is really cool

In addition, by appearing as the protagonist and player character of this game, Faith has established herself as an icon of sorts. When a video game studio got the idea to make a game with parkour as a central mechanic, this character was created. Her being fictionalized and designed to represent an art serves to make her easier to rally around. Her look, her attire, her affinity for colors, became synonymous with her and the culture she was made to represent. There's some back and forth homage and inspiration at work. As a result of this character's creation and use in the game, parkour practitioners who are fans of the game seem to enjoy adopting those traits. For instance the runner symbol, the color motif of crimson against pristine white, and Faith's attire. I know of at least one video where Faith's signature red glove is prominent.

Having a real-life interest given the "video game treatment" can be an exciting thing. It represents the interest in new ways that can generate more interest from unlikely sources. The video game can then be used as a bridge between long-time practitioners and people who became curious because of the video game. On the other end, the interests represented can return the excitement back by representing the game in their real life practices. They can rally behind a common icon, that being the game, game world, or significant characters. There are a great many games that have been inspired by real world practices and had potential to enhance both. I'll quickly list a few others that may not be on the level of Mirror's Edge, but still show the creativity of video games as a medium.

Punch-Out!! is a very simple game, but it makes us all feel like heavyweights

One early example of video games taking inspiration from real life: Punch-Out!! for the Nintendo Entertainment System. This game plays more like an action puzzle game than it does a fully robust boxing simulator. The game misses out of the little nuances of boxing strategy that I cannot begin to comprehend in favor of reaction-based gameplay and pattern memorization. In the end, we still have a go-to video game for fictionalized and exaggerated boxing and all the fun that goes with it. I recall that the Wii installment in the series was met with great enthusiasm by a YouTube video creator who was big into boxing. The protagonist, the Rocky-inspired Little Mac, has come into his own as a boxing representative that gaming can call its own. And if these games have provoked any solitary individual into looking at real boxing, that aspect has also been fulfilled.

Ace Attorney is not a close law simulator, but it is a celebration of logic and situational awareness

Another noteworthy example: The Ace Attorney series known mostly for its protagonist Phoenix Wright. Ace Attorney hardly represents the legal process. In fact, it's more of a melodramatic detective series that boils down to proving clients' innocence in murder trials. But the characters, design, and stories are all their own while still inspired by the legal system. While we won't see Phoenix design contracts, settle out of court, or brush up on changes in law, one basic and key element is still represented: Logic. Phoenix still uses logic and his knowledge of the situation to reach conclusions which are both favorable and feasible. Though logic and the ability to see the bigger picture are small parts of being a lawyer, they're still vital, and Ace Attorney hits that note. At least I'd hope so. I haven't studied law, so I'm at the mercy of actual practitioners.

Confession time: I genuinely was a little bit obsessed with farming after first playing a Harvest Moon game

Last on my abridged list: Harvest Moon. Who would have thought a game about farming would be so popular and spawn a series that is still ongoing in more than one line of games? Clearly the designers, who started with the concept of a farming game and made it into a money-making game fueled by consistent small tasks. The amount of time it takes to grow crops and mature livestock is exaggeratedly quick, but the principles of day-to-day hard work are well represented. I'm not so sure Harvest Moon will make many farmers out of gamers, but teaching the work ethic of farmers still counts for a lot.

How about you? What are your noteworthy games inspired by real-world interests, hobbies, sports, professions, cultures, etc.? What fictional characters have you come to enjoy as a symbol of said culture? Or how has a game sparked any interest in a real-world practice? I want to hear from you.

Gears of War and the Story of the Gameplay

A few years ago, way back in the year 2011, Cliff Bleszinski answered a fan question on Twitter. The fan asked, "What is more important, story or gameplay?" In other words, is it more important for a game to look great and tell a deep story, or is it better for a game to focus on playing well and provide great fun to the player? In my opinion, the answer varies depending on who you ask. You have people who can do both very well, you have games which are notable for refining one into artwork, and you have developers who can do one very well and need to focus on the other for a sense of balance. As for Bleszinski, he enigmatically tweeted back, "The Story of the Gameplay." Here we were expecting one or the other, but here is the curveball response.

I have occasionally obsessed over this answer ever since that day. What does that mean, the story of the gameplay? Does he mean one or the other? Does he mean both or something else entirely? On one hand, we can see it as Bleszinski being a wise guy and end it at that. Me, I like to give more credit than that. If not to Bleszinski, than to the concept itself. I happened to have tweeted back, asking Cliff if he was referring to an actual concept. I never heard back. So in the absence of any clarity from the source, let's figure out what it could mean ourselves. For reference, we will use Bleszinski's own Gears of War and its sequels.

For the uninitiated, Gears of War is a series of third-person shooter games. You take on the role of Marcus Fenix and a thrown-together squad of soldiers as they fight a seemingly hopeless war. The enemy? The Locusts, a race of invaders that emerged from underground to claim the planet. The interesting thing about the Locusts is how their ground troops are largely similar to humans to the point where they even use firearms and similar military tactics. Thus the conflict is more similar to fighting a standard war against a cunning and strategizing foe than any old alien invasion. Weapon choice, focusing targets, positioning, finding cover, and aiming true are all vital and you can't win if you lack any of them.

"@Culbec: @therealcliffyb what's more important, story or gameplay?" The Story of the Gameplay.
— Cliff Bleszinski (@therealcliffyb) March 16, 2011

The tweet that sparked this discussion

So now that we have our game, how do we tackle our concept? Let's break it down. "The story of..." refers to an event which is communicated between people, either recalling something that happened or making something up. "... the gameplay" refers to any factor that goes into how the player interacts with the game and their success is determined. Putting it together, we are looking for outstanding events that occurred while playing the game, perhaps even events that define the experience as a whole.

In the first Gears of War, one part of the story requires you to hold your ground at the entrance to a manor. Locust forces can only pour in through one entrance to get at you, but you can look out a window to pick them off before they even get there. That only works for so long until they bring out a larger enemy which cannot be whittled down before it reaches you. Further - I may be remembering this incorrectly - there are multiple of them at once. Therefore this sequence requires you to pick your targets, reserve your powerful ammunition for when you need to take down a big enemy, and position yourself so you can take effective cover and fire back.

I was stuck in this sequence for a very long time, and I was only playing the game on medium - medium! To be fair, the middle difficulty is called "Hardcore" so I at least knew what I was getting into. The strategy I employed was staying on the high ground to either side of the entryway where the Locusts came in. I did this to stay out of the way of rockets launched by the appropriately named Boomer enemies. But in the end, it was always the same deal. The Boomers were able to take too many hits and they just had to blow me up once to make me start the whole thing over. Something had to give every time.

After taking one rocket too many, I started to evaluate my options. I left the safety of my high ground to see what else the terrain had to offer. The manor entryway had tables, banisters, a dual stairway leading up, and raggedy couches. Surely, the couches were not suitable cover against bullets and explosives. But I tried it anyway. Furthermore, I positioned myself not to the side, but in front of the entryway. The Boomers would be able to fire at me as soon as they got in range, but the opposite was also true. This strategy resulted in a complete reversal. Being able to shoot as soon as I saw the whites of the Boomers' eyes meant I could start working the Boomers down before they even got close to the door. The Boomers fired back, but my couch proved to be a surprisingly formidable shield. The first Boomer died before it landed a foot in the entrance hall and the second one could only get a few steps in.

All at once, I made use of all of Gears of War's features. Strategy, position, cover, predicting enemy behavior, and aiming for weak spots. This experience really drove in how much thought went into this games design. It also makes for a good story.

Knowing how to remove troublesome turret gunners is also crucial. Hardcore mode's description is "You know how to pull off a headshot"

My second war story skips a generation to Gears of War 3. In particular, the game's competitive multiplayer. Just like the campaign, multiplayer requires teams to work as a unit, collaborate on a plan, position themselves well, take cover, pick their weapons wisely, and aim well. There is a good variety of game modes, and my story takes place in the one called "Capture the Leader." You run around shooting the other team, except this time one player on both teams is designated at a leader. The leader cannot die normally, but will be captured instead. The leader can't do anything, and the captor moves slowly while only using a basic weapon. The goal is to keep the opposing team's leader in the captured state for 30 seconds. Should both leaders be captured, neither timer will go down until only one leader is being held.

That said, boy did I have one good round. It started off poorly with our leader taken and dragged into the enemy's half of the arena. As I do often in these games, I died and respawned on my team's side. I had a bit of good luck as I found a boomshot, an explosive not unlike the Boomer rockets. My second bit of luck was seeing the enemy leader with another enemy. I suppose they figured with all the fighting happening around my team's leader, they could just hang out on our side where none of my team would think to look.

I sprung into action, firing a Boomshot that killed the regular opponent and took down the leader. The opposing team's clock ticked down 5... 4... 3... 2... and stayed at two. I picked up the enemy leader and forced the two timers into an impasse. And since the opposing leader delivered himself to my team's territory, I was safe while my team scrambled to free my leader. I positioned myself well behind cover and on high ground.

Suddenly, an enemy ran by. How did he get there and why didn't he notice me? I then realized that we were so far in the game that the spawn points had switched. In other words, the territories had just switched, pitting me in the enemy territory. Though it seemed that they hadn't caught on yet. On the flip side, my team was now entering the field closer to my team's captive leader. After some time, I heard a chime. The opponent's timer vanished and my team's timer began to tick down. That was good, but I was still in their territory and my team was still picking itself up after saving the leader.

Finally, one of the opponents thinks to look up the ramp in his new spawn and sure enough must have caught a glimpse of me. He doesn't have a direct line of sight, so his only option is to get up close and smack me down. He even tosses up a smoke grenade, which fills my screen with white and gray and no trace of his approach. While I hold the opposing leader, I can't use any of the "good" weapons, making do with just a basic pistol. If I were to survive, I would need to find him as soon as he came through the smoke, fire as soon as possible, and hit every one on his head. Those were a lot of stars to align.

And yet, they did end up aligning. I saw, I aimed, I fired, I hit. The opponent fell down and was no longer a threat. Him out of the way, I was uncontested and finished off the leader for the win. I imagine if I opted in for voice chat, there would have been lots of cheering to go around. If you think that's cool, the next round is equally worth talking about. I entered the battlefield and was immediately taken down by a shotgun point-blank. Short but sweet.

You'll see the player's team's counter is at 30 and about to count down. The enemy has no counter because they do not have the player's leader. If the enemy leader were to get away, the player's team would have to start all the way at 30 again

Now that we have these anecdotes, what does this mean for our elusive "story of the gameplay?" My friends, I believe we are onto something. The game is built and designed in such a way that you can have your moments of glory with some luck and skill during typical play. Any game can accomplish this, but I think Gears of War has this very concept in mind. When I think about "typical" game flow, I think about the game introducing its concepts and mechanics, building a player's skill with coasting low-intensity tasks, and then testing those skills against a challenging boss enemy or stage.

Gears of War is different. The game has its mechanics - aiming, reloading, taking fire, running, dodging, etc. - but most problems are not solved alone by practice. You need tactical smarts. You need to know when to apply pressure or when to fall back. You need to recognize a good vantage point where you'll be safe and have a good view of the enemy. You need to know when you're outnumbered and a frag grenade will even those numbers. You need to recognize opportunities to get at your enemy's sides or back. You need to assess if the situation is clear enough for the rest of your team to charge in and control more of the battlefield. You need to think like a soldier and not just know how to use their weapons and abilities.

This game invites war stories because of how it isn't won by "playing hard," and that is where the story of the gameplay comes in. This game is designed in such a way that every moment, decision, and small victory is imbued with a sense of importance. My experience playing this game stuck with me because the way each skirmish played out was as a result of my skill and knowledge. It was hardly ever cut-and-dry how I was going to stop the advancing enemy or force my way into a stronghold. Because this game felt so significant, I can remember all of these events in such vivid detail. The story of the gameplay is not something told by the game, but instead something lived out and told later by the player. No game can guarantee that every player will have their own story of the gameplay, but games like Gears of War sure promote it by engaging the player's tactical thinking.

So Cliff, and Epic Games by extension, whether or not "the story of the gameplay" is a real thing, your game is robust and carefully crafted enough for me to make my own definition. Cheers!

Another game I have stories for days is Bravely Default. Trying out new class combinations makes for riveting conversation. Anyone else feeling deja vu?

And you know what, I like this concept. Making a game so noteworthy to play that you could make a story out of it is a noble endeavor and a mark of true effort. This got me thinking in a broader sense. If we can make stories of out typical play in a video game, what else in our lives can we make stories about that we otherwise would think are not that noteworthy? Is your job more interesting than you may give it credit for? Could you form a story around a meeting or a task you took on? Do you play a sport? Did you witness an amazing play or take part in one yourself? Do you exercise? Is the reason you exercise interesting? Did you dig deep in your own mind to find the will and courage to exercise? Perhaps someone would be entertained and even motivated by hearing it.

Or maybe, just maybe - and I won't imply this is the absolute truth for a moment - you know that your life could be more interesting. Any life could be more interesting. I sure know that's true for my life. This added interest could come in the form of the aforementioned sports, exercise, hobbies, groups, community involvement, and so many more. This discussion was inspired by an Abstruse Goose comic in which the author addresses the concept of a noteworthy day. On an August 4th night, he climbed a pyramid structure and broke his foot on the way down. To quote the comic, "Now I bet you're thinking that climbing a pyramid, screaming 'I Tony Montanta', and breaking my foot was a pretty stupid way to spend the night. But I'll also bet that you don't remember what you did on August 4.'

So just like I would ask myself, "Can I remember what it was like to play Gears of War?" I should also be asking myself, "Can I remember what I did on April 24th?" I like the idea of working within my means to make every day significant. Even just a little more so. 

Kid Icarus: Uprising and Sportsmanship

When Kid Icarus: Uprising came out, I played the game's multiplayer religiously. I just loved the concept: Taking the weapons you built in single-player and pitting them against other gamers? Cool! And I'll stand by my opinion that Nintendo could take online multiplayer scene by storm if they expanded on Uprising's mechanics. But that's a discussion for another time.

For the uninitiated, Kid Icarus: Uprising is an action game for the Nintendo 3DS. You play as the angel Pit who battles the forces of evil in a mythology-inspired world. The controls involve moving Pit with the control stick while aiming and controlling the camera with the touch screen. There's a bit of a learning curve, but you'll unlock a very robust game on the other side. Pit's mobility and powers are influenced by the weapon he's using, and at 108 weapons in this game's armory, you will have your pick. Multiplayer is played the same way, but now you're competing with other players for glory.

I almost exclusively played the game's team-based mode, called Light vs. Dark. In Light vs. Dark, you battle in teams to defeat other players and decrease the opposing team's collective health bar. When the other team's bar is depleted, the last player defeated will turn into an angel. The angel is very powerful, but the other team wins if the angel is defeated. Thus it is a good idea to keep the angel protected.

The first few games of Light vs. Dark I played, my team won. When you win, you see your team's angel help the other team's angel up off the ground in a show of good faith, backed by an uplifting fanfare. When I first lost a game, I was a bit riled up and was not looking forward to what sort of humiliating results screen waited for me. Instead, I saw the exact same image of one angel helping another, smiling at each other, while the same music played. And I thought to myself, "What? No rubbing it in? No condescending musical stings? No huge 'YOU LOSE' covering the screen?"

A sample round of Light vs. Dark. Notice how even though the player loses, the results screen is still triumphant

Slowly, my confusion melted into elation. I no longer felt put on the spot. During the game, I felt frustrated because my weapon and skills were being outmatched. But hearing that music and seeing the two angels being friendly, I only felt the same sense of satisfaction that I would have if it were my team that had won. The game gives rewards to the teams based on who won, and of course my team's consolation prize was small compared to the winning team's purse. I suppose you can interpret that as the game focusing on who won and who lost, but it is only fair that the team which played the better game receives the significant reward.

Thus, we're back to the results screen, the one real opportunity that Uprising had to objectively make the teams feel one way or the other about the outcome of the match. To be honest, it's brilliant. Absolutely uplifting. The game could have really gorged the winning team's ego while stomping on the other teams', but it doesn't. I just couldn't bring myself to stay upset when I saw the angels smiling and that upbeat fanfare. I truly got a sense that the only thing the game wanted me to feel was that the match we just played was a good game. Nothing more, nothing less.

My friends, I want to see more of this: Games themselves promoting good sportsmanship through their presentation. That's not to say there are no examples of it out there, but the more the better.

I know promoting sportsmanship is a tricky business. How do we build a culture of mutual respect without going too far overboard and sheltering the participants? There's no one answer to this, but Kid Icarus: Uprising's approach is a pretty good take. And furthermore, it does this in a way that only a video game can. The bright and positive fanfare gives the losing team something encouraging to see and hear immediate after the game ends. This is the game immediately doing what it can to promote an optimistic outlook for that team. It's a counter-point to whatever frustration the losing players may be feeling following the match that just ended. However, the post-game rewards give a clear indication that not everyone is a winner. The winning team earns a free weapon in addition to a sizeable amount of ingame currency. This is done after the encouraging fanfare to frame the rewards as an incentive. It's as if to say, "Hey, you didn't win this time. But the next time you win, that's what you look forward to earning." There's a balance of themes there that may not be perfect all the time, but it's the best effort I have seen thus far.

When you lose in Team Fortress 2, you're forced to hobble around completely defenseless until you're killed or the next round starts

To contrast, let's bring up another multiplayer game that puts emphasis on the results of a match: Team Fortress 2. Team Fortress 2 is a first person shooter with a dark sense of humor that revels in shamelessness. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact I have laughed with the game's dysfunctional and tongue-in cheek malice many times. And as such, the way this game ends its rounds is equally hilariously mean-spirited.

In Team Fortress 2, once a team wins, the other team can no longer fight back. An announcer shouts "You fail!" and a crowd boos while downtrodden music plays. The losers are stripped of their weapons and their running speed is decreased. In addition, the winning team's weapons are super-charged with critical hits. Essentially, the losing team is reduced to fodder for the winning team to hunt down until the next round starts. To top it off, this whole mechanic is called "Humiliation." And by all means, is there any better word to describe this situation?

So does that mean Team Fortress 2 is an awful game? Of course not. Anyone who plays the game will quickly be made to understand its hard-boiled nature and expect everything to feed into it. Humiliation is intended to be humorous to all parties involved. Objectively speaking, humiliation is a laugh riot. The team without weapons is bowled over by the team with the supercharged weapons? Who would have thought? This may be one of the only times when people are victimized and I'd say the only logical reaction is to laugh.

I'd also like to put in a good word for Uprising's single-player campaign. It is quite the adventure with some fun characters, snappy dialogue and no fourth wall.

If in the end neither game is seriously trying to personally make the loser feel bad, what is the difference that makes this article about Kid Icarus: Uprising and not Team Fortress 2? The keyword here is "authenticity." You can take Uprising at face value and trust it to be authentic with how it presents itself. There are no hidden or double meanings. There's something comforting about a game that works intuitively with how the human mind processes information and meaning. Team Fortress 2, on the other hand, requires a split-second of deciphering. Horrible things happen to your character not because the game is actually mean to you, but as a bid to be so over-the-top that you laugh alongside the game at the absurdity that it presents. So where Team Fortress 2 uses an overabundance of poor sportsmanship as a means of comedy, Kid Icarus: Uprising presents you with good sportsmanship and means it.

As things stand now, there is a lot more inauthentic humor than there is authentic empathy. That's because being inauthentic is easy, people like to laugh, and some cynicism can be healthy. What I want to see is more of the Uprising example. I want to see more authenticity not just in video games, but in the world as a whole. I want to see more people attempt authenticity. I want to see more people speak up for authenticity. I want to see more people react to and promote authenticity. We may believe that authentic culture "goes without saying" and that's why we see less outstanding examples of it in the media. As for me, the fact that I was so surprised to see it goes to show how much more I'd like to see out there.

And now I want to hear from you. What experiences have you had with games promoting good sportsmanship and authenticity? For all I know, there could be a game out there which depicts competition even better than Uprising does. Maybe you saw a movie or read a book where characters set a good example. Heck, maybe some of you have a story about a positive experience in Little League. If you do, I want to see it in the comments.

Borderlands and Media Intimacy

Game trailer for mature audiences

I have a friend who is an absolute Borderlands nut. He has internalized all of the lore, all of the characters and settings, and I'm pretty sure he knows every line of dialogue in the second installment. So naturally, during the run of the first Borderlands, he one day gifts me the game over Steam with demands that we play together. It's a big-name game and it has my good friend so riled up to play it, so I gave it a shot.

For the uninitiated, the Borderlands series is of the first-person shooter genre. You assume the role of an adventurer exploring the world of Pandora. The goal of the first game is to find a mythical stash simply called "The Vault," so adventurers of your kind are known as "vault hunters." You have four vault hunters to choose from, each with distinct weapon affinities and abilities that make their play styles very unique. It's a completely different game to start a new file as another vault hunter. As for the world of Pandora itself... well, the only way I can put it is "violently quirky." Imagine wild west with alien creatures, some future technology, and some of the most endearingly shameless dark humor I've seen in a game. Add in roleplaying elements and an impossible amount of weapon varieties, and you have a game formula that can last the avid gamer a very long time.

So I play Borderlands in a group of three. I had fun, but I really wasn't feeling the game. I was the only person playing for the first time, so the other two just tore through knowing exactly where to go and what to do. I meandered behind them by comparison and maybe got a few shots off. I was basically dragged through the game without any chance to catch my breath and try to get a feel for the game. I should have said something, but I was expecting to pick it up along the way. Coming off from these play sessions, I found Borderlands to be merely a solid shooter with a nice animated design and a sense of humor. For some reason, having this lukewarm response to the game didn't sit well with me, so I played some more. My friends were busy at the time, so I started a new character solo.

The original four vault hunters - Roland, Brick, Lilith, and my man Mordecai.

My friends, the difference was night and day. Playing the game at my own pace allowed for me to truly have a personal playing experience. I could slow down and take in the scenery without anybody having to wait on me. I could actually explore around the landscape and go off the beaten path to see what was over there away from the objective. Without my friends acting as a combined shield and battering ram, all the enemies shot at me and I had to fend for myself. I got to use different weapon types and see which ones suited my playing style and my skills. Heck, I even became aware of an entire aspect of the game.

You see, weapons in the original Borderlands came plain or in one of four "elements." Your weapons could simply cause damage, or also light an enemy on fire, destroy shields faster, destroy armored enemies quickly, or simply have their bullets explode. In a group, I was completely unaware of this because everything died so fast. But alone, I was forced to experiment with elemental weapons. Through my own trial and error, I saw which situations called for which types of weapons and I was able to build my own assembly of weapons that I switched through and used.

Furthermore, I got to learn about my character. I simply picked him because I liked his design, but I came to realize he was perfect for my play style. I tend to favor the handgun weapon types in shooters, and it turns out my character, Mordecai, had skills and abilities dedicated solely to this one weapon type. By building Mordecai into his "Gunslinger" abilities, I became my own wrecking ball of quick reflexes and precise shots. I was finally having the immense fun that was expected of me when playing this game. Nothing against my friends and their most well-meaning approach, but I only could have reached this level of intimate familiarity with the game playing it by myself.

A typical weapon in Borderlands. These things are as plentiful as rain and their attributes are almost always completely randomly generated. You will have lots and lots of guns pass through your hands.

And that brings me to the topic of this article, a concept that I have preliminarily dubbed "media intimacy." I would have called this "game intimacy," but I have realized over time that this concept applies to more than just games. In fact, oral tradition may have the honor of being the first media to engage people in media intimacy. The idiom "curling up with a good book" is a great example of media intimacy as well.

So, what is media intimacy exactly? As I define it, media intimacy is the connection between a person as an individual and any sort of media. If you've ever "gotten into" a movie, TV show, book, or even a live performance, you've experienced media intimacy. You're more than just a consumer. You feel like you're part of whatever it is that you're watching, listening to, or playing. A "fan" of something is a person who is intimate with the media that they are a fan of. Even if all of someone's experiences with the media have only been as with a group, it takes just one individual thought or interpretation to spark an interest. And when this person engages in just thinking about the media on their own terms with nobody else to influence it, media intimacy begins.

Thus, when I played Borderlands by myself and engaged with it on my own terms, I became intimate with the game. The gameplay was more significant to me. The characters were more significant to me. The story, the setting, the individual events and lines of dialogue, all significant. I could more appreciate the game as a sum of its parts and not just as another example of its genre.

The most recent game that showed me a good time via media intimacy is Bravely Default. Such a deceptively complex game, but the most rewarding when you put in what little effort is needed to learn its ropes.

When I came back to playing Borderlands in multiplayer with my friends as my custom-built Mordecai, I was far more proactive. I got right into the fray and knew what weapon to use against which targets. I knew what events were happening, so it didn't bother me when we glazed over the cinematic sequences. I knew what went into a good weapon, so I didn't just pick up and drop anything just because it had an impressive design. We finally were all playing the same game. I was truly a vault hunter and I couldn't be happier.

And by all means, if we can be intimate with our media, why can't we be intimate in other areas of our life? How about business intimacy, or professional intimacy? Art intimacy or, hear me out, social intimacy? The common thread here is you engaging with your chosen topic on your own terms. You need to want it for reasons all your own. That's not to say you can't be influenced by the ideas of others, but the way you process those ideas need to be yours and yours alone. Thinking or acting some way just because someone else said so isn't intimacy. Or at least that's how I see it. After all, if you're taking any of my words to heart, you're engaging in media intimacy right now by taking in my words and processing that information.

Case in point, I am currently taking classes to learn programming. And as it stands, I'm hard-pressed to really get into programming when I just think about it in terms of assignments, grades, and lectures. But when I'm by myself and think of programming languages as fun tools with which to build fun programs, I find it much easier to learn and love programming.

Now I'd like to hear from you. Now that you have some idea of what I'm talking about, what are your experiences with media intimacy? What are you a fan of? Has a game, book, movie, TV show, etc. really made an impact on you? I want to hear about it.

Elite Beat Agents and the Meaning of Passion

Video game concept: A group of snappily-dressed gentlemen travel the globe and inspire regular people by dancing to popular music. Hope and motivation would be in short supply if not for these suit-wearing male cheerleaders.

If you're wondering what such a game would be like, look no further than Elite Beat Agents for the Nintendo DS. This game absolutely took the handheld scene by storm during its release and people I know are still making references to this game. Just like in the paragraph above, the game is about the titular agents as they travel the world and spread passion to the people. How do they do it? By acting as cheerleaders singing and dancing to popular music.

As you can tell by now, Elite Beat Agents is set in a modern world of cartoon fantasy. And even though the game revolves around the agents, the stars really are the people that the agents inspire. These aren't your typical video game problem-solvers. Instead of saving the world, our protagonists have more relatable goals and issues such as babysitting, creating art, proving their worth or just trying to survive in a rough-and-tumble culture.

Some typical gameplay. The player is following the beach ball left to right and afterward going to tap the 2 and 3 buttons

Instead of saving the day behind the scenes, the Elite Beat Agents are all about filling their targets with the courage and passion they need to do it themselves. This being a game, simple problems quickly turn into wild adventures. But the themes of overcoming doubt in one's abilities are still there. Let's quickly go over how this game is played.

For the uninitiated, Elite Beat Agents is a rhythm game that tasks the player to tap buttons on the DS touch screen following the melodies of well-known songs. These buttons fade into the screen and have circles closing in on them, indicating the right time to tap. In some cases, the button then prompts the player to follow a path on the screen, or some other follow-up motion. The result is a whole routine of button-pressing that compliments the song perfectly. As the song goes on, there is a status bar on the top of the screen that goes down. Should it empty entirely, the stage is lost and the player has to try again. This bar is bumped back up by the player performing the song well. This gameplay does very well to excite and push the player to do well and earn a good ending.

On the note of endings and stories, Elite Beat Agents has some of the most energetic presentation I have ever seen in a game. It's rife with passion, over-exaggeration, endearing charm, great characters, excellent themes, and is just a pleasure to experience the whole way through. Let's take a look at one of the game's stages.

The "Makes No Difference" stage - Interesting because the outcomes rely on the lead actor, which relies on Chris's directing

Stage 2 of the game introduces us to director Chris Silverscreen as he works hard to produce the next great blockbuster hit. Morale drops when one of Chris's bosses comes onsite to tell him that his job is strictly on the line. Chris carries on, but the extra weight is dragging him down. Chris's self-doubt and stress pile up, culminating in the desperate cry of "HEEEAAALP!" Thus, the Elite Beat Agents embark to motivate Silverscreen and make "Romancing Meowzilla" a huge hit!

I really must stress the significance of the "HEEEAAALP!" screams in Elite Beat Agents. It's the call that summons the agents to the target's aide, but it means so much more. The emotion that drives every character to yell this call is a very relatable one. Even though the situations are different, the emotions are the same: Self-doubt, anxiety, stress, maybe even helplessness. In short, the nagging voice that says "I can't do this. This is way bigger than I am." I am absolutely sure every person has felt this at some point. Perhaps some among us are feeling it right now. And I can assure you many of us will feel it more times in the future. Thus, I am certain we can all relate to feeling this emotion, especially to the point where we would shout "HEEEAAALP!" if it meant receiving any degree of help.

You can see the magic of the agents right away when they lift Chris straight out of his funk and get him waving with the music. After all, the best start to a daunting task is to loosen up. A little bit of waving with the music to take his mind off of the stress of the task will only help. You may also interpret this as him "riding the wave" of positive thinking and progress. This will be more significant in a few paragraphs.

Here you can finally see the game in action. All gameplay is reserved for the bottom screen while the top screen shows Chris as he works toward producing his movie. On the bottom screen, the  buttons appear to the beat of the music and you will gain points for tapping and dragging, depending on your reflexes and timing. Your performance not only affects the meter that you keep above failing levels, but it also affects how the events on the top screen play out. Performing the gameplay well will depict Chris as making progress. Performing poorly will depict Chris as struggling or failing to reach his goal. Performing perfectly will depict Chris succeeding greatly and with infectious gusto.

I find this very well represents what it's like to progress through a daunting task. You'll have your highs and your lows, and moments when you're just coasting through with moderate progress. In fact, depending on your task, you may coasting much of the time.

More sample gameplay. The circles around the buttons close in and when they overlap with the border of the button, that is when the player must tap.

The music you're hearing is a cover of Sum 41's "It Makes No Difference." And I must say, Elite Beat Agents has one of the most memorable soundtracks not necessarily because the songs on it are all original and of great quality - in fact, the entire core soundtrack are all covers of popular music. What makes the songs stand out is the context that they are used. In this game, music and gameplay are intertwined. The routine of button-pressing is set to the music, so you become intimately familiar with the music out of necessity for playing the game well. I find that this set-up has given me a fondness for all of the songs in the game's soundtrack. It helps that when you perform well, these songs are the background themes for your awesomeness. You can see comments all over the Internet from people who have a problem with popular music saying that this game makes it enjoyable.

You'll notice that in this game, stages take place in typically four sets. At the end of each set, depending on if your meter is above or below 50%, an event occurs that shows if your protagonist succeeds at the immediate task. In the case of this stage, we see if Chris's directing pays off and his lead actor pulls off the performance of a lifetime. In this stage and any other, seeing these little victories along the way to completing the stage is very rewarding. Remember that quivering ball of doubt that your character was at the beginning of the stage? Well look at what they're doing now!

Between sets, we return to seeing our character doing the wave, but as the stage progresses we see more characters joining in. I love this aspect of the game, since in my eyes it signifies the point when those characters are "on the same wavelength" as our protagonist, so to speak. It's one thing for Chris's lead actor to do his job, but it's another for him to really understand Chris's passion and motivation. With the lead actor joining Chris in the wave, I feel like he's really on board and sharing in that passion to make a great movie. Later on, even the antagonistic executive joins the wave, which goes to show even the bad guys in these stories see things more the protagonists' ways. To be fair, the executive does soften up when he sees the progress made in the movie.

The ending you get for a stage is based on how many sets you passed. The best ending is if you pass every set, there's  a neutral ending if you miss any sets, a bad-ish ending if you miss all the sets but still pass the song, and running out meter entirely will "reward" you with a soul-crushing failure scene. Trust me, these are hard to watch. In Silverscreen's case, all of his efforts and directing prowess pay off. "Romancing Meowzilla" is a huge hit, he makes his bosses happy, he keeps his job and can keep doing what he loves.

For me, what's more rewarding than winning in this game is seeing the evolution of its characters as the stages progress. They go from self-doubt to unflinching confidence - which you may notice is signified with a very distinguishable face bearing sharp half-circle eyes like masked superheroes - something that I refer to as the "fervor face." It's the face of a person who is well past the point of "Can I do it?" and only focused on where and how to make it happen. I love it.

The "Sk8er Boi" stage - A prime example of the protagonist using the fervor face

The next stage places us in the backseat of Jack, an ace taxi driver. He's good at his job, but he has a problem driving too fast. After being let off with a "friendly" warning from a police officer, a woman in labor barges into his car and tells him to step on it for the hospital. Jack can't risk being caught speeding again, but time is of the essence. With nothing else to do, Jack starts his engine and makes for the hospital with a shout of "HEEEAAALP!"

As we can gather, most - if not all - of the cries for help are not so much "This is out of my league, please help me out of this responsibility" but more "I'm going in to make this happen! Back me up!" For characters like directors and taxi drivers that are normally mundane in video games, this is a great attitude. The music for Jack's stage is Avril Lavigne's Sk8er Boi. The fun part about this song is how it tells a story, thus the lyrics are prevalent and clear. Even though the lyrics don't have much to do directly with the events of the stage, I still feel there is some connection. Perhaps because the pace of the song's story arc matches the stage's pace and there's some synergy when both stories are at their climax.

The "YMCA" stage - Look at this man tear through his plight

Another of the game's stages which makes great use of lyrics is the game's seventh stage, in which we join the quest of a sailor out to find treasure. The song for this endeavor is the time-tested and iconic YMCA, credited as being covered by TC Moses. And I must give props to TC Moses because regardless of if this song sounds like the original or not, the version we have in Elite Beat Agents is every bit as fun and energetic. I know I would be down to explore the depths of the ocean to such a tune. I can't tell you how pumped I was just hearing the initial horns and drum beat.

The "Anthem" stage - The story of a wash-up who hasn't given up on himself

The last stage I want to mention is the game's fourteenth stage, featuring an allegedly washed-up baseball player, Hulk. He had his run in the big leagues and struck out in more ways than one. He lives a life downtrodden melancholy until one day when the amusement park he works at is under attack from a volcano monster. It's up to Hulk to save the park from destruction using weaponized baseball skills! Of course, this story isn't as down-to-earth as the rest, but the themes are possibly deeper. Hulk has already seen the worst brunt of failure and yet puts in the effort to save the park and his biggest fan who is caught in the action. To me, that makes Hulk's story powerful in its own right. Rather than avoiding failure at all costs, he is overcoming the current paralyzing effects that a past failure can have on a person.

In the end, the power of music may get our protagonists up and doing, but it is the power of passion that makes everything possible. Behind every character and story is some sort of passion or drive. The same can be said of anyone. Every person has something they're interested in, and if we could we would pursue those interests with our hearts and souls fully invested. However, many of us don't pursue these interests for a variety of reasons. Either we don't find them practical as a living, we believe we don't have what it takes to make a living of it, or we just turned to the more practical occupations to place all our effort. And in some cases, the more practical occupations are our passions and we're as happy as can be. In any case, we all have something we want to do and do it well, and in a perfect world, we would all be masters of our trade. And to all of the masters of their trade currently reading this article, I commend you.

In Elite Beat Agents, antagonists take the forms of executives, traffic cops, aliens, unruly children, and the weather itself. But the real conflict throughout the entire game is people versus themselves. Every character is perfectly capable, but the only thing stopping them is their own self-doubt. Once they get that confidence, the problem doesn't stand a chance. It's in this way that we might even think of the agents themselves as purely symbolic. It's incredible to think all these people can gather the courage by themselves, but more comforting and empowering to think that we all have this group of agents somewhere in the distance confident enough in our ability to cheer us on by dancing to popular music.

The first stage of "Osu! Tatake! Ouendan" - The simple story of a student needing to study for exams

And I can't end this article without talking about Ouendan. Many people in the gaming community already know about Ouendan, so they can skip to the next paragraph while I clue the rest of us in. "Ouendan" is the colloquial name for "Osu! Tatakae! Ouendan" the Japan-only game to which Elite Beat Agents is an international "sequel" of sorts. I'm no expert, but I'll explain this as best I can with my limited knowledge and research: An Ouendan (spelling may vary) is a Japanese cheer squad not unlike cheerleaders in function. Though whereas cheerleaders rally up support by having a good time, the typical Ouendan will instead deliver an intense, stoic performance. I imagine it's because they take belief and inner strength very seriously. Thus they project such a professional tone to help their team's resolve sturdy up as well.

The Ouendan game very much takes a stoic approach to passion and motivation. Compared to the Elite Beat Agents, the Ouendan members are serious. Not mean or disagreeable, just very intense and focused on their task of bringing drive to the people. Instead of doing the wave, character in Ouendan put on their fervor faces back with the flames of passion. I guess you can say the attitude in Elite Beat Agents is "Take it easy, you've got this" and the attitude in Ouendan is "You are so capable of overcoming this challenge that it is your solemn duty to do so!" Personally, I can see how the stoic approach well represents Japan while the laid back approach powered by popular music appeals much more to the general international audience.

Different though their methods may be, Elite Beat Agents and Ouendan both set out to celebrate the common person and to me they succeed. Every profession, hobby, and undertaking in these games are shown in an impressive light. And you know what, in the right light, that applies to us in real life as well. Anyone can truly seize life if they keep their passions front and center in their minds and in their hearts.

We can't discount the power of music, either. With my playlist open as I type, I can vouch it helps. How about you? What music do you listen to that gets you in the mood for what you love? Perhaps the next time you listen to it, you can imagine a squad of agents dancing to it in the distance.

But before we sign off entirely, let's cut some onions

Wii Fit and a Spoonful of Sugar

It is the middle of November and by now people all over the world are exercising to their trial versions of Wii Fit U. I am one of them, which is good since I fell out from being consistent with the first Wii Fit. But I'm back on the Balance Board and things are looking up! I have already partaken in many of Wii Fit U's games and I am having actual real fun! And that fun is pivotal to today's topic.

"Wii Fit" is a household name to many, but for the uninitiated, Wii Fit is a game that gets the player to exercise. Since the game cannot provide physical feedback like standard exercise machines, it instead provides instructions and challenges that require the player to pose and move around in certain ways. For instance, Yoga exercises in a Wii Fit game show the player how to adopt a given Yoga position, then assess the player's ability based solely on how able he or she is able to maintain their balance on the Wii Balance Board. I could choose not to do the pose and stand comfortably so that the game would give me a favorable rating, but beating a video game wasn't exactly on my mind when I chose to buy Wii Fit.

Wii Fit U offers many yoga exercises, strength exercises, dance steps, balance games, and more, but what really got me inspired writing was my first experience with Wii Fit U's "Free Step" exercise. The activity is a simple one 1) Step on to the Wii Balance Board with one foot while raising the opposite arm and moving the other arm back. 2) Step on to the Wii Balance Board with the other foot while returning your arms to a neutral position. 3) Step off the Wii Balance Board with the first foot, this time raising the same-side arm and moving the opposite arm back. 4) Step off the Wii Balance Board with the second foot, returning your arms to a neutral position. It takes some getting used to, but Free Step gives you plenty of time to adjust. How much? Oh, in the area of a half-hour.

This deceptively simple screen has everything you need to step like a pro

If that last bit made you say "What!?" let me tell you my reaction was very much the same. When you start Free Step, you are given the option to quit at any time. You are also given the goal of completing over 2000 steps within that time. The game can work off of the Wii U's Gamepad so that your TV can be freed up for other things while you step through your half hour. Since my first playthrough of Wii Fit U was intended to just be a trial run to see what the game had to offer, I figured I'd do a good 100 steps and call it to see what else I could do.

So, I was off. The screen displayed a stage where my character and a bunch of my handmade Mii characters had their own Balance Boards. The onscreen character automatically did his steps, which was my prompt to imitate him to make sure I'm doing it correctly. The game even provides a helpful stepping sound effect to signal the moment when your moving foot should touch down each time. I took all of these into account and began my steps. The game only counts steps you actually do, and uses pressure on the Balance Board to verify those steps.

As I worked to imitate my character as close as possible, stay in step, and switch feet as smoothly as he did, 100 steps came and went. I don't know what it was, the step counter, the little Miis standing around supportive, the trainer's voice informing me of my progress, or just how little I looked at the ingame timer counting down from thirty minutes, but I was feeling pretty good. The steps weren't physically demanding at all, but I was still working up a good amount of effort. I was also getting bored, but in the best way. I got the idea of what to do and the steps were too slow. I then noticed that Free Step has three tempo settings and I had been stepping to the lowest one. It was time to get Wii Fit! I clicked onto the second setting, found it alright, then clicked onto the third setting. And then I was off for real.

As the minutes ticked down, the steps ticked up. With four steps in a cycle, it was 25 cycles for every 100 steps. At some point, the trainer even stops using specific numbers when telling you how many steps you've done. That's a good indication of when you're high up there! Over the half hour, I could move in tandem with my Mii on the screen and switch feet on the fly seamlessly. Pretty soon I was looking at the clock, but only to get an impression of how many more steps I could get out before the half hour was up. I was in a state of Zen that I was in no rush to leave. And yet, all good things come to an end. When the half hour was up, I had done well over 2600 steps and could feel them all in my thighs. And I still went for another 15 minutes on other games to round out the full hour of exercise.

Some of these games take crazy coordination. I love his enthusiasm!

Now, I consider myself middling at best when it comes to work ethic for exercise. Yet here I was putting in half an hour straight of steps. What happened? My friends, gaming happened. It's easy to feel negative about exercise if you haven't done it in a while, but it's even easier to feel positive about games, especially if you haven't played any in a while. Wii Fit U managed to take the eagerness I normally reserve for games and redirect it towards exercise. Whatever associations may be keeping me from exercising were rendered null in the face of my overwhelming love for games. You might say that the game "tricked" me into exercising, but I certainly don't feel tricked. And if it is fact that I was tricked, that's my kind of trick!

This experience taught me the importance of associations in human psychology. We as people can have very warped senses of priority based on previous experiences. This is where procrastination comes from, after all. I hear all the time about workers who have a report due the next day and they'll play five lives in Candy Crush before even looking at said report. It's not even a contest. It's also easy to understand how that happens. Candy Crush is fun, colorful, and gratifying. Comparatively, the report is arduous. Imagine if the worker could channel that eagerness from Candy Crush to that report. After all, that individual report needs to only be written once while Candy Crush will always be there.

And that's basically what happened with me on the Wii Fit U. I can't speak for everyone using the software, but I have gone on to incorporate more activities in my usual exercise routine and be more consistent with it. I may not have the benefit of a game tracking my progress, but the positive experiences I had with exercising filled in those gaps. I less thought about exercise as something strenuous and more like a cumulative activity that I am meant to improve and build on. Even if it were scientifically proven that exercise shouldn't be possible and fun, I am able to keep doing it as if it were. Thus, I was "tricked" not only into doing exercise, but enjoying it as well.

Two saying passes through my mind in response to this. One was "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." The other one was "A Spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down." Though the first one is relevant, I believe my case with Wii Fit is more accurately described by the other. Many will recognize this quote as sung by Mary Poppins to motivate the Banks kids into cleaning up. Literally, the quote refers to the general bitterness of medicine and a child's unwillingness to take it, even if sick. But adding a spoonful of sugar will make the medicine taste appealing enough for the child to take. In context, Poppins is saying that menial tasks can be completed quickly and made fun if you don't think of them as menial and more gamelike. Sure, the film depicts "fun chores" as simply snapping one's fingers and watching the room clean itself, but clearly that is symbolic for how easy it is to clean one's room when you're having fun while doing it. At least that's how I choose to see it. And I digress.

Ms. Poppins explains it best herself

I would encourage official study into this topic of enriching non-game work ethic with game-like incentives, but that actually has been well underway for years. Many of you probably have been thinking the term "gamification" throughout this whole article, and you'll all be right. For a quick reference to what gamification is, I point you towards this early Extra Credits episode on the topic. Very good viewing. And as you can see from the video, gamification is still very early in its development and has incredible potential for growth, but it still represents everything I've been talking about throughout this article. In fact, you could say everything I've been writing about since March is a case-by-case argument for gamification's potential.

How about you? What experiences have you had with motivation in video games? What are some times where game-like thinking have helped push you along, or even been key to solving a problem? I have found that when I go into a game, I come into it with a sort of neutral optimism because I know the game was designed with my success in mind. This is an attitude that video games do in a way all to their own. I'm not even aware of this positive attitude, but I have brought it with me to non-game situations and been all the better for it. I'll bet every gamer also does this and has a great story from it.

Thank you for reading, and I'll see you in the Wii Fit U Gym Communities!

-

Email: RBAshkenazi@gmail.com
deviantART: http://captain-gamer.deviantart.com/
ScrewAttack: http://www.screwattack.com/user/captain-gamer
Tumblr: http://captaingamer.tumblr.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Captain_Gamer
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/user/GamerHangVideos

Phoenix Wright and Focus

By now, my Nintendo 3DS is my preferred exercise companion on the treadmill. Sure, other devices offer similar services, but nothing captures my attention like a good Pokemon battle, RPG cutscene, flight around Wuhu Island, or courtroom drama. For today's topic, we will discuss why that last example is so effective.

We all can agree that the Phoenix Wright games really make us think. Capcom's law games create these little worlds of scenarios, character, evidence, and motivations. At its most intense, I have found myself so immersed in a Phoenix Wright storyline that I began seeing the real world in terms of alibis and some way in which a murder could have been hidden.

Officially known as the "Ace Attorney" series, some games in the franchise even star other characters and take place at various times in the world's history. Phoenix Wright just happens to be the most recognizable aspect of the series .

For the uninitiated, Ace Attorney games work your problem-solving skills more than they do your reflexes. You won't be defeating enemies one after the other, nor won't you be grinding up stats, picking up loot, earning weapons, or even much of controlling your characters. The bulk of Ace Attorney gameplay is in its dialogue. You will spend more time hearing characters talk and explain things than you will taking any sort of action.

Everything happens in menus, and every option opens up a colorful and endearing new event

On paper, this sounds dreadfully boring. But in execution, this is perhaps the most enthralling way to play a video game that I have yet experienced. Like I said above, an Ace Attorney game is more than interactive media. It is a window into a world of intrigue and murder mystery. And yes, every court case boils down to murder at some point.

Every chapter follows the same formula: Your main character meets a person who is charged with murder and takes the case to defend this person. From there, you hit the streets to scour the crime scene, find evidence, and talk to people related to the incident. The games are all very linear, so you'll be following a carefully crafted storyline the whole way through. When your investigation is over, it's time to head to court where you will engage in debate with the prosecutor, whose job it is to see your defendant found guilty.

Already you can see how Ace Attorney can keep a person hooked. The gameplay and the storyline are chained at the hip. Whereas most of what happens in a video game is part of the "experience" and you can go for long stretches without continuing the story, Ace Attorney is in storyline mode full-tilt. If the game ever stops, it's because it needs you to nudge it in the right direction. You are never not ingrained in an Ace Attorney storyline for as long as you are playing it.

By now you're probably wondering what it is the player actually does which presents any challenge. Well, there come times in the story where your protagonist will have to put money to mouth and prove their point with some evidence. But they won't do it by themselves. When you hit that impasse, it's up to you, the player, to sift through the evidence and find that piece that will throw doubt on the other person's claims, forcing them to elaborate or admit to lying. So, if your witness claims to have never been at the crime scene and yet you found their phone right next to the body, time to raise an OBJECTION!! Digging up the truth is very rewarding, and watching your character pursue that line of logic further just makes it all the better.

 But allegedly, the victim wrote the defendant's name with his right hand. Curious...

Bringing it all together, what does this game being good have to do with me being on the treadmill? Nothing, directly. But it does help me focus on the exercise. And funny enough, it helps me focus by taking my mind all the exercise almost entirely. And let me say ahead of time that this is a particular sort of multitasking that not everybody can do, so be careful if you try it out.

First, by concentrating on the game I am less aware of my surroundings. Not by a whole lot, just enough to where I am not constantly checking the clock, calories, or distance. This way, I won't be thinking about how much further I need to go. Likewise, since I'm not focused on the strain of the exercise, I won't have any reason to exaggerate how tired I feel just to give myself a reason to cut it short.

Second, the attention that I am not giving to the exercise pours straight into the game. With the amount of attention that game commands, it's not likely to let go of that focus any time soon. The storyline is constantly in motion, so at any time you can just click on it to see more. Further, the conversations and characters are entertaining enough where pretty much any exchange contains at least one smirk or laugh out of the player. There is a lot going on at any time in the game, so you'll be thinking about the storyline and what the newest developments mean for the larger mystery afoot. Even putting the game down to think about something will keep you invested enough to where you won't get bored while exercising.

The game's music is also exceptional and has everything to do with the Ace Attorney experience. The iconic "Cornered" theme is catchy, especially in a capella.

There are two caveats for this method. First, playing a game while exercising requires being able to multitask in a very particular way. While I can stay enthralled in my game, I still need to keep up with the treadmill, maintain balance on the belt, and keep an eye on the timer so I can scale up the speed according to my routine. If you cannot multitask like this, then this whole method could prove dangerous. Practice first on low speeds, even if you already multitask well.

Second, there do come those times in an Ace Attorney game where you will get utterly stumped. The solution is out there, but your thought process won't find it. In those cases, the game's hold can wane. In that case, you may want to switch up for a game that doesn't require problem-solving to continue, like Animal Crossing.

These things aside, I have a great time on the treadmill with 3DS games, Ace Attorney in particular. If the story really picks up, I might even pull some overtime just to keep in the zone.

All of that said, I'd like to hear from you. What activities keep you in "the zone" like a good game does? Which activity would you like to have a zone for? A game-like perspective on that activity may help in accomplishing this. On the other side, what are good games you like to play while doing something else? And on the other side of the other side, what are some things you like to do while playing games? I know I like to wind down at the end of the day by catching up on my videos while playing some Borderlands 2 or Cube World. I look forward to seeing what you all have to say! Until then, game out.

The Skylanders Mom and Gamer Networking

Given some time, shopping for video games with one's parents is going to become one of those essential childhood memories. I know that I cherish such memories. During my own trips to video game retail stores, I occasionally get  a glimpse into what the whole process is like nowadays. I've seen all sorts of experiences, ranging from the nagging kid whose parent buys a game based off a cartoon, to the encouraging parent purchasing the latest Mario for their grateful child. But sometimes, you see something different.

Browsing in the Electronics section one time, I overhear a mother and son in the Skylanders toys. For the uninitiated, Skylanders is an action/adventure series of games which contains a huge library of playable characters. You gain the ability to play as new characters by purchasing the action figure of that character and using a peripheral to plug the character in the game.

In the store, I actually saw in passing the son placing an action figure on the demo booth to see the character in action. He was seriously deliberating. Eventually, he goes to his mother and says he chose that character. And this is where it gets interesting. The mother takes one look at the character and says, "This looks like a big guy. Don't you play the fast guys?" to which the son responds that he wants to try a slow-but-strong character for once. They went back and forth for a bit, including one time when the kid tried a big character at a friend's house and said he didn't like it, leading to the kid saying he wanted to actually take it seriously.

What struck me about this exchange is that the mother and son were genuinely discussing strategy and logistics about the game. Normally, we'd come to expect the mother to sigh "okay," drop the toy in, and be on with her day. But here, she actually took the purchase seriously and wanted to talk it through first. Not as the credit card-holder trying to stave off a purchase, but as someone who understands what the purchase means to the child. She knew enough about the game to talk about it on the same terms as her child.

Every character in Skylanders comes with its own unique stat spread.

I was floored to hear this. I don't know if this is increasingly common now, but during my youth parents did not try to understand video games. The norm was that video games were not something that required further understanding. They were in the same league as simple toys. It's funny I say this so firmly because one of my parents was a subversion of this norm. My mother, much like the Skylanders mom, actually stopped to look at what I was playing and rationalize the bright colors on the screen. She knew what "characters" meant to video games. She understood what a "hit point" was. She saw how to recognize who the player character was without needing me to tell her. She knew what a power-up was and could alert me to when one pops onscreen.

Hearing the Skylanders talk made me think about a discussion I had before where I tried to make the argument that video games are just as complex and conversation-worthy as any real-world sport. Naturally, the other person had all of popular culture on their side and I had to concede. In light of overhearing this conversation, I'm thinking popular opinion is starting to sway the other direction. Now that video games are on the popular culture radar, my argument for the complexity of games has more ground to stand on.

Lastly, and just as importantly, even I could understand the conversation I was overhearing. Not because I've played Skylanders, but because I've played games in general. Games have a lot of things in common. In this case, the kid was used to characters that moved fast but could not defeat enemies quickly. This new character would move slow, but defeat enemies with less hits. He is swapping out the advantage of speed for the advantage of power and perhaps other capabilities.

Fighting games, by far, most emphasize the differences between characters and topics of discussion.

Thinking on that last point, I have come up with a term for how general video game knowledge allows someone to understand a game they haven't played yet. "Gamer networking" is what I've come up with so far. That is, networking with an emphasis on video games. In this day and age, "networking" mostly refers to a person socially engaging others to build a "network" of friends and acquaintances. People often network by emphasizing things they have in common, such as what movies they like, sports they follow, what they do for a living, and so on. This way a person can have a big network to be well-connected in many places among many types of people.

Gamer networking is interesting because video games are so complex. There are entire genres of games, and each game in each genre can be radically different from each other. And yet, video games all come from the same roots and therefore contain a lot of similarities as well. For instance, Final Fantasy is a very different game from Bioshock. However, both games have in common that the players attack enemies in order to win. In both games, the damage that players deal to enemies is quantified. In both games, the amount of damage can be increased in some way. In both games, the benefit of increasing attack power is taking less time to defeat regular enemies and being able to keep up with the more difficult encounters. Therefore, if a player of either of these games mentions a time for opportunity in which they increase their attack power, the other will know right away the basic benefits of that increase. And yes, players of both of these games will be able to join a conversation on using heavy characters in Skylanders.

Gamer networking is not just for people who freely identify as gamers. People who network over sports have discussions of a very similar sort. And then there's the fact that non-gamers have stormed the scene as casual and social gaming grow. Let's take one of the most prolific games of the modern era, one that every person reading this blog has either played, played secondhand, or heard about. Yes, folks, even players of Angry Birds can get in on the action. Angry Birds is a game more different from Skylanders, Final Fantasy, and Bioshock from each other, yet the concept of "more power" exists there as well.

Though Angry Birds does not emphasize defeating enemies, you still use force to knock down buildings using your birds. The individual birds cannot power-up, but using special birds is satisfying and mostly essential for getting the best results on stages. The Big Brother Bird in particular goes along with my point because it is a straight upgrade from the standard red bird character. It may not be as precise as the red bird, but precision is less of a factor when your bird can just demolish whatever it touches. It's not exactly the sort of quantified power in the other examples, but it is a relative increase in power all the same. Kind of a stretch, but the connection is there.

Just watch the first minute to see the big guy tear it up.

You see, the more you break down a video game into relatable problem-solving tasks, the more easily someone can understand it. The less a person knows about games, the simpler you'll have to get. Getting someone on your level requires effort and patience, but it is worth it. I've had long conversations with people who have no prior interest in games but every good intention to understand what they can, and all because I worked my way up.

It seems that we as gamers also have the progress of technology on our side. The more people come to rely on bright screens and dealing with user interfaces, the less foreign video games feel. In fact, video games may turn around and help us in the real world of situational awareness and problem solving; but that's a topic for another time. Either way, the Skylanders mom provided a good window into what could be when it comes to public knowledge and attitude surrounding video games. Perhaps in the future, more complex games will work its way into global culture; and not just a split-second of Call of Duty or an offhand app reference.

So, what about you? What experiences have you had in gamer networking? Ever tried explaining a game to your parents? Invited your friends over for some game time and had some banter? Or maybe you've butt heads with another game online about the superiority of one character or another. I know we've all done it, and I want to hear it. Until then, game out.