Lower Your Weapons

The following article was posted on D-Pad yesterday:

It happened gradually, now that I think back, but at the time the realisation hit me quite out the blue: I'm tired of shooting things in video games. Countless shooters, waves of enemies whether human, alien or other, weapon variety that bleeds into hegemony; the proliferation and standardisation of the shooter over the last decade or more has established it as the backbone of the gaming industry, but it is this uniformity of design and structure that has recently left me feeling disconnected from the sorts of games I used to enjoy.

Games have always been good at a few core things, and shooting has always been high up on this list. The natural feel of controlling a weapon, aiming and firing at targets mixes the interactivity and skill-based mechanics that separate games from other media, and the added adrenaline rush that comes from such visceral situations allows repetitive action to fill in the gaps in place of narrative and story. The fact is that shooting is what games do best, they work as power fantasy, as a way of engaging players with action and as immersion into situations most people are fortunate to never have to face in real life (believe me, when the alien invasion comes I’ll be down in the cellar, bravely protecting the food supplies). But whilst this experience was novel 20 years ago, the seemingly 3D hallways of Wolfenstein and Doom were such an advancement on the limitations of what had come before it was no wonder they grabbed so much attention, now technology within video games has reached such a peak that the notion of being able to walk around and interact with a virtual world no longer holds the same sort of inherent thrill.

Couple this with the fact that the genre has virtually fallen into stagnation in terms of basic gameplay design and you have vast swathes of the gaming landscape that no longer hold much appeal for me. But the issue goes deeper than just the modern military shooter, it extends to third person cover-based shooters and even action games. How many people does Nathan Drake kill over the course of the Uncharted games? As has been discussed before this not only leads to sections of the games feeling like a slog through bullet sponge enemies (and this is coming from a big fan of those games) but it also causes a fundamental disconnect between the character in the story Naughty Dog are trying to tell (flawed, charismatic and goofy adventure hero) with the mass murdering competent marksman who leaves a trail of bodies throughout the game.

This is but one of the problems that come with trying to tell more nuanced, human stories in modern games, whilst maintaining the gameplay template of what has come before. There are no easy answers though, if you aren't to spend your time shooting things, then what is it you would do for 10-15 hours in a strongly narrative driven game? One path is that of adventure games, where the emphasis is on exploration of environment, conversation and puzzle solving. But these games are often slow and unengaging for many used to the frantic pace of modern games. Rockstar’s flawed but ambition LA Noire looked to bridge this gap, similarly David Cage’s output from Fahrenheit to Heavy Rain and the upcoming Beyond: Two Souls have a heavy focus on character and story with little or no traditional gunplay.

Recently I played through Dear Esther, a very interesting piece of interactive fiction created using the Half Life 2 engine and set on a mysterious island. The game consists of randomised voice over clips playing as you explore the seemingly abandoned locale, there are no actions you can perform, but the combination of atmosphere, music and the ambiguous story that unveils itself to you as you play make it strangely compelling. It certainly stretches the boundaries of what you consider a game, having no real action or fail state, but it also works in a way not possible in a short film or art piece. It uses the medium of video games to create something new, and it got me excited by the possibility when developers look outside of the familiar.

Steve Gaynor, former Idle Thumbs contributor and designer responsible for the excellent Minerva’s Den DLC for Bioshock 2 recently left Irrational Games to form his own indie games studio where the focus is on smaller, story driven titles. The first of these announced is interesting games I have flagged for release in the coming year.Gone Home, a first person exploration game that already is one of the most Recently the Telltale Walking Dead games have provided me with some of the most intense and involving experiences I've had playing a game in years, all through crafting memorable, real characters, telling a compelling story and then tying that to simple gameplay that priorities choices and consequences in a way that no other medium can offer. It’s a compelling case for the kinds of games that I find engage me at the moment.

Not that all games should fit a specific mould, I'm merely advocating for a wider spectrum of experiences and for something new to be brought to the table. There is definitely a place for more traditional shooters, just as there is for tight gameplay-system driven games, but personally ever since Shenmue offered up a semblance of a realistic world to simply explore and live in, I have been enamoured with the possibility such games can offer. But even if you find yourself enjoying modern shooters, there is no reason why you still can’t look to innovate, or shake things up. Half Life did this magnificently back in 1997, fully immersing the player in a world and carefully setting up its story so that by the time the shooting started you were involved, you were fighting for your life.

Many have described the Call of Duty games and their ilk as rollercoasters, games that propel you through their narrative with tightly scripted events, bombast and a constant stream of shooting-gallery opponents. It’s a very distinctive, and at times effective style of game, but one that offers such restrictive freedom and such constrained gameplay systems (gunplay, turrets, vehicles) that it pulls me out completely. I enjoy these games on an immediate, visceral level, but nothing resonates, they provide a quick rush but nothing lasting, and I think as I grow up this is what has become important to me when I consider the time I want to spend consuming media, of all forms.

So yes, sometimes we just want to blow off steam, or save the world, or beat that high-score, but also if we ever want this wonderful, enthralling and frustrating art form of ours to grow we should demand more. We should want more challenging and engaging games that offer experiences we've never had before. It’s easier said than done I know, but what’s the point of aiming high, if you never take a shot?

The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

Finishing up his trilogy of Batman films with bombast and style The Dark Knight Rises is a juggernaut of a film, as massive in scale as the fan hype that has accompanied it to the big screen. For the most part it succeeds in bookending Nolan’s trilogy and tying up loose ends, whilst not slamming the door for possible future entries in the series. However it is also not a film without its issues, as much philosophical as they are structural, the films bloat exceeds that of the previous entries, and despite Tom Hardy’s best efforts it is a film grounded with a villain who is nowhere near as compelling as Heath Ledger’s joker. Its reach seems to almost escape its grasp at times, having so much ground to cover and a story told on such a scale that relating the small and human to the wider context is difficult, leaving plot machinations at the heart of what should be deeper and more personal.

Eight years have passed since the death of Harvey Dent, in that time Gotham has become a safer, virtually crime-free city. Bruce Wayne, meanwhile, has become something of a recluse, boarded up in the rebuilt Wayne manor mourning the death of Rachel and refusing to re-engage with the world. But there are stirrings of a gathering force beneath the city, led by the notorious Bane, a mercenary born and raised in the world’s toughest prison, and of a reckoning that will force Batman back into the spotlight.

Like the other films in the series the Dark Knight Rises starts slowly, re-introducing characters and new faces alike, of these newcomers Anne Hathaway and Joseph Gordon-Levitt are the standout. Hathaway’s Selina Kyle is never named as Catwoman but she imbues what could have been merely a foil for Batman with a conflicted morality that develops nicely throughout the film. Levitt has a somewhat tougher task playing a rookie cop, John Blake, who is drawn into the fight against Bane. It’s a tricky role, one that is largely reactive and set up with a clear purpose that is relatively obvious early on, but Levitt plays it well crafting a real character from someone who could have been much less. Michael Caine is wonderful once again as Alfred, but his character in this is reduced to heavy-lifting the film’s emotional beats, making them feel slightly perfunctory rather than truly earned. 


The lack of Batman himself though is a definite problem, throughout these films it has often felt like Nolan was never truly comfortable with the character himself, presented in the context of the grounded realism of Gotham this man in a costume never quite gels. Here when he is involved it works slightly better, perhaps because the film in general is bigger and less grounded than its predecessor, but it still left me reflecting on how little we actually see of the character in action and how this version of Bruce Wayne feels slightly muddled.

On the opposing side Bane makes a suitable imposing villain, his voice though, a sort of muffled British upper-class hybrid, takes some getting used to and despite clear work to clarify it in the edit (resulting in it often feeling dubbed over and not physically present) it can still be hard to make out at times, largely because there is no visual information to accompany it, Bane’s mask obscuring all but Tom Hardy’s eyes and leaving him the difficult job of conveying emotion with very little.

It may sound like I am being critical here, but only because Christopher Nolan sets the bar so high for himself, the film remains a very entertaining and well made Batman film, it has some great moments but has not resonated or stuck with me since watching it. Compared to Nolan’s other films it feels almost perfunctory in a way I am unused to, as if this was a film his heart was not truly in. It tries to cram so many elements together that it loses the great sense of thematic unity Nolan so often constructs, teasing it apart it is hard to discern much really going on under the hood, and where it does bring back motifs and ideas from the previous films it doesn’t do much to expand upon them and brings little new to the table. As such it remains a good film hampered by its history to an extent, whether or not this is a fair judgement to make is a valid question, but we cannot simply appreciate entertainment in a vacuum and as I’ve analysed my somewhat lack of engagement, this is the source as far as I can discern.

Technically as impressive as you would expect and capped with some great action scenes and character moments I would still struggle to call the Dark Knight rises a failure in any real sense, after all years ago I would have been crying out for a Batman film this good, this deep and this enjoyable, but it also feels that Nolan’s trilogy deserved a better send off, that the ending feels like a nod to the fans feels contrary to his approach to the films thus-far. To contextualise it in terms of the films themselves, it feels like Nolan gave the fans the film they wanted, but not necessarily the film they deserved.

D-Pad Reviews Archive

As well as blogging here I also contribute game reviews and features for D-Pad Magazine on occasion. This post will maintain a link to the articles I publish as and when they go up:
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Papo & Yo review - 28/8/12
Feature: Lower Your Weapons - 11/8/12
Dragon's Dogma - 12/06/12
E3 2012 Thoughts and Predictions - 2/6/12
Twisted Metal - 28/3/12
Final Fantasy XIII-2 - 2/3/12
Professor Layton and the Spectre's Call - 9/1/12
Games of 2011 - 22/12/11
Carnival Island - 2/12/11
Ratchet & Clank: All 4 One - 1/11/11
Feature: Becoming the Storyteller - 24/10/11
Resistance 3 - 3/10/11
Deus Ex: Human Revolution - 12/9/11

Martha Marcy May Marlene (2011)

A thriller with very few immediate thrills, and a psychological study without any real catharsis, Sean Durkin’s somewhat awkwardly titled Martha Marcy May Marlene is a difficult film to pin down, and an even more difficult one to shake after the credits have rolled. The film follows the titular Martha, a young woman who we see in the opening minutes fleeing a commune of sorts out in the country by way of the surrounding woodland. Panicked she breaks down upon reaching the nearest town and calls her sister, who takes her back to the isolated lake-house she shares with her new husband. From here we, the viewers, are treated to gradual flashbacks to Martha’s past, discovering how she found herself slowly being indoctrinated into an abusive cult, fronted by John Hawkes’ charismatic but menacing leader. This is not a film of big reveals or twists, it is obvious early on the nature of Martha’s absence (or Marcy May as she was christened in the commune) but in cross-cutting between the past the present, and by keeping Martha’s family out of the loop (Martha refuses to confide in them, her gradual breakdown symptomatic to them of instability without cause) it is only gradually, over the course of the film, that we discover exactly what it was that lead Martha to leave and understand the true impact her time away has had on her damaged psyche.

A film of great stillness and restraint Martha Marcy May Marlene takes in time in peeling back the layers, never over explaining and often only subtly presenting clues as to its intentions. Martha is no innocent victim and through Elizabeth Olsen’s mesmerising performance we see her run the slow realisation of what she has been through in tandem with glimpses of her impulse and rebellious nature, the same nature which caused a, hinted at but never explained, family rift in years previous. She is not afraid to make Martha unsympathetic, she lazes on the care of her sister and whilst physically she has left the commune the lessons the messages so persuasively fed to her during her time there have a way of regurgitating themselves as she clashes against the materialistic ambitions of her sister and brother-in-law, her time readjusting only seems to amplify her fears, there is no quick fix, but maybe she was always broken?

There are no easy answers here, and for those seeking true resolution will find it lacking in Durkin’s ambiguity. More than a psychological study though, the film’s true nature emerges, manifesting horror through tension and anxiety, even in its most mundane of moments. Thanks Daniel Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans' discordant, affecting score we never feel safe, or settled, despite the lake-house’s idyllic setting. As the flashbacks to the commune become more disturbing Martha’s paranoia infects the viewer, Durkin’s camera lingers on the edge of frames, daring something to happen to break the monotony and refusing to let the unsettling feel that pervades the film rescind. The revelations build as we see just what Patrick and the cult are capable of, the culmination confounding expectations again by leaving many questions still unanswered. For some this may be a step too far, and there is a certain tacit agreement implied in the viewer that all the answers will not be forthcoming, which may feel unsatisfying, but to me the refusal to break the sustained tension accumulated by the film instead helped it resonate after.

Throughout the film works thanks to a wonderful control of tone and emotion, it can drag a bit, especially in the middle, and those seeking something faster paced, or with more conventional elements may find it lacking, but I found it a distinctive piece, sympathetic but grounded and with its loudest statements made in its quietest moments.

Why I Love: Almost Famous

On the whole I’m not a big believer in having a single favourite film, at least not personally. Others may find it easier to raise a single example from the multitudes and hail it, but I find this much harder. Films come in so many shapes and sizes that direct comparisons often seem pointless, they are all designed for different purposes (other than the entertain I suppose but even that could be argued to be secondary in some cases) and as such will impact people differently, or something impact the same person differently over time. This is all a roundabout way of saying that sometimes when my mind does consider the question there are only ever a few films I consider for that top spot, and Almost Famous is always amongst them.

Cameron Crowe’s 2000 ode to childhood, music and the pangs of first love has spoken deeply to me since I first watched it, but it is only over time that I have really come to appreciate what a remarkable film it is and also why it feels so special to me, personally. For those unfamiliar with the film it is a semi-autobiographical story dealing with William Miller (Patrick Fugit), a 15 year old boy who manages to get a gig writing an article for Rolling Stone magazine, a task that requires him to go on tour with an up and coming (fictional) band called Stillwater, The film plays out as a coming of age road movie as William’s eyes are opened to the world, but also as a love letter to a particular time in musical history and to those whose devotion to the music and artists comes to define them. Crowe balances a very thin line between waxing nostalgic about the good times, but not shying away from the darker elements either, as such it becomes so much a celebration of everything rock and roll without feeling false. But the backing and setting only work so well in conjunction with the main story, the plot machinations of which could have derailed the film early on but are perfectly handled so that by the time William gets on the bus, much to the chagrin of his overbearing mother (the superb Francis McDormand), we know exactly who he is and where he is coming from.

As it plays out he meets Penny Lane, one of the ‘band-aids’ who tour with Stillwater, played by Kate Hudson with such depth of feeling and damaged emotion that it makes me consistently depressed to view the direction her career has taken since the film’s release. She is revelatory here (deservedly Oscar nominated) making Penny so much more than a love interest, and as William falls for her over the course of the film, so do we. And therein lies the magic. Crowe lets his film breathe, he creates such a vibrant cast of characters, each rich and deep and then lets us spend time with them on tour a William does. But it never feels aimless, there are always short-term goals – William’s ever-elusive interview with Russell Hammond (Billy Crudup in another brilliant performance), his Rolling Stone deadline – which propel the story forward but don’t overwhelm the film’s more subtle moments. In fact when the film was released on DVD and Blu-Ray Crowe released an extended ‘Untitled’ cut of the film, which added nearly 40 minutes of footage, pushing the film to over 2 and a half hours, and yet this remains my preferred version of the film. Everything added contributes to the film and I find it flows better as a result with more little character details sketched in.

Along with the performances Crowe’s deft touch with music again comes to the forefront here, perfectly accompanying and enhancing the visuals without feeling like a greatest hits of the 70s. There are some famous tracks here for sure, but it is often the smaller instrumental contributions from Nancy Wilson that stick in the mind. To my mind this crystalises in a scene late on in the film that simply involves William saying goodbye at the airport, but in that simplicity is such a range of emotion, wonderfully etched without veering into sentimentality. It’s perfect.

On a personal level the notion of coming of age is one I find myself returning to in the films that I find real connection with. I think it’s the sheer force of change and loss of innocence that resonates, there are few things as empathetic to a view as a lost character finding their place in the world, or anything as purely heartbreaking as someone’s naivety and optimism being crushed by the often harsh realities of life. Almost Famous definitely veers towards the former of these scenarios, and its optimism is a key weapon in its continued appeal. Many criticise Cameron Crowe for his positivity, but I find his movies heartfelt and while he is certainly prone to saccharine moments these always stem from genuine emotion and character, there is nothing false or cynical about the best of his work and to me Almost Famous walks this line perfectly, providing an enriching and life-affirming experience every time I watch it and as such will be a film I continue to treasure.