The Glamour and the Poverty of Gaming Trends

In a galaxy not so far away, on one well-known habitable planet in the midst of the sprawling sea known as the “internet,” hundreds and thousands of gamers gather daily on forums, eagerly searching for the recipe of the perfect game while snatching feathers from each other. “It should have everything and even more!” - shout some, while others proclaim, “It would be great to have elephant tusks and a giraffe's neck...” Gamers mentally dismantle games into their components and produce an unattainable masterpiece. Out of frustration and immense disappointment, they scatter once again into the worlds of Blizzard, Bioware, and Square Enix projects, but in their hearts they nurture the dream of a magic wand accompanied by a genie that could surely invent a project with the label “our everything, nothing else is given.”

We are pragmatic, cynical, calculating people. We stopped believing in Santa Claus at the age of three, and the existence of yetis and Cheburashkas raises justified doubts. Masters of achievements, side-quest gurus with an incalculable number of gaming hours in their backlog. We consider the creation of the perfect game as unlikely as the revival of the TV series Firefly. The chances are, to put it bluntly, zero. Therefore, today we will simply try to understand what kind of layered dough our favorite projects are baked from. And who knows, maybe we'll manage to recreate the image of a masterpiece. The voice of reason suggests we start with the trends that our fellow developers are abusing.

Attention! To avoid a verbal diarrhea of 200 pages of pure text, we will limit ourselves to the action genre.

Parkour

Ancient people warned the younger generations more than once. They said, do not step on vertical surfaces or there will be “bo-bo,” then a belt on the posterior and a solemn repetition of “bo-bo.” For a long time, humanity could not approach the fulfillment of this cherished dream and enviously watched the sticky little feet of flies and cockroaches. But everything changed with the appearance of climbers and industrial alpinists. They instantly became the elite of the vertically-moving society and gained the rightful respect. Trying to reach the edge of heaven, homo sapiens invented parkour. Despite all their efforts, full-scale wall-running remained beyond human capabilities. Then crafty game developers decided to use parkour ideas wherever they fancied. And they fancy quite often, it must be said. The trendsetter for speedy wall runs is rightfully considered Altair (Assassin’s Creed). I do not know how residents of Middle Eastern towns feel with that mysterious assassin creeping across their ledges, but players' first acquaintance with the “flying” assassin was quite to their liking. Of course, many video game heroes followed in his footsteps. The pinnacle of this was the creation by DICE, Mirror’s Edge. The developers sent a fragile girl named Faith on a brief journey across the weights and roofs of an unnamed metropolis. And everything would be fine, but there were no other gameplay joys in store. Due to the constant running, even from a first-person perspective, it could not become a masterpiece for all time. The creators of the game Prototype went even further and disabled all possible conventions. The main character is an ordinary person (in the past), a part-time monster (at present), and a highly versatile personality (reads books, throws cars). Alex, if we go by his passport, habitually crashes into any building, regardless of the number of floors, at the speed of an F1 car. For the gamer, the game merely changes the plane of movement. There is no talk of any atmosphere or meaningful load. Therefore, runs across high gray boxes get tedious surprisingly quickly. Or take the game Saboteur. The local hero diligently pretends to be a desperate monkey, climbing across balconies and downspouts. It seemed to be a serious game about a driver, a member of the resistance. But lo and behold! Most of the time, we perform clownery against the backdrop of World War II. Not all games suit parkour. Not all.

Cover System

Until recently, the action genre completely reminded us of the first battles involving firearms. If you don’t remember, or were too young to grasp the imagery, let me explain a little. From afar, such battles looked like this. First, two armies (let's call them Red and Blue) align in even ranks opposite each other. The commanders leisurely discuss the terms of surrender with a glass of bourbon in hand, while the soldiers are bored with idleness. After that, someone reads a count and determines the army that will get the chance to shoot first. Let’s say the odds fell on the Reds. They fire a volley, and several blue soldiers quickly begin to stiffen. The turn goes to the opponents and so on. Until victory occurs. This continued until the invention of the unitary cartridge. The long prelude was replaced by stuffing individual platoons into bushes and trenches from where they could take aim. The appearance of cover in the life of an ordinary soldier meant extending life by at least a few minutes. In the recent past, shootouts in games looked like a sham. Standing facing each other and emptying magazines into an enemy carcass is now considered a barbaric occupation, practically indecent. The first advanced cover system appeared in the game kill.switch. The player was allowed to lean against any object and fire at all objects within reach practically blindly. It’s a pity that there was practically nothing else in the game. The revolutionary banner was taken up by the developers from Epic, who applied the successful system in Gears of War. But unlike their predecessors, they didn’t forget to provide the game with gameplay and plot. Contrary to expectations, battles due to the constant use of cover did not become any less dynamic. Many other studios adopted this fashionable trait. Some manage worse - covers only hinder the character's ability to be a happy meat grinder. Some comrades strive to modify the system. Thus, the authors of Killzone 2 managed to teach the player to hide from a first-person view. And in Wanted and Splinter Cell: Conviction, movement between obstacles appeared at the single press of a button.

Sandbox

I have a friend who has lived near the “Planernaya” metro station for several years now. He knows only the path leading to the underground realm of V.I. Lenin from the entire area surrounding his house. When asked how to get to certain landmarks, he just shakes his head and nods at Google Maps. He doesn’t need to know all the nooks and crannies of his courtyard - he doesn’t have the need. And this is the case everywhere - we only use the necessary elements of the landscape, careful not to wander into unfamiliar places without reason. Only the thirst for photography draws us to uncharted corners. We all know that the most interesting angles and picturesque bits are found in places far away. But otherwise - why? Why do we need all these vast spaces if there is nothing to occupy ourselves with? In games, this dilemma stands sharply. An extremely sharp edge.

The parade of games in the “sandbox” genre is rightly led by the Grand Theft Auto series. The whole focus of such projects lies in an absolutely free world with complete (or slightly limited) freedom of movement. The dry remains - dozens of ways to get from point A to point B and the ability to roam around a whole virtual city. Or a virtual desert. Or an illusory dump. Or a fictional patch of land. It seemed as though the era of tunnel-rail games had gone into deep history. However, players began to complain about the stinginess of the developers. With a trillion square kilometers, there is nothing to do if every corner isn’t filled with all sorts of things. A cool encounter between Just Cause and True Crime is extra confirmation of this. Soon after, racing fans began to suffer. Instead of finely crafted circuit tracks, developers handed them uniformly mapped cities (NFS: Underground 2, Burnout: Paradise). And despite the quality of the races themselves, “free movement” across the map left an unpleasant aftertaste. Some studios justify the low population by weather conditions, phases of the moon, and unusual settings. We can understand why there are no traffic jams and crowds at the cinema ticket counters on Mars (Red Faction: Guerilla) or in the Wild West (Red Dead Redemption). The concept supports the atmosphere - that’s how it should be.

Self-Regenerating Health

For us, the representatives of the human race, health is quite simple. If you break your leg - it means you broke your leg; no other options are given. In the real world, they don’t leave piercing wounds with a bayonet at -10 HP, and concussions end with a concussion, not with a flurry of stars over one’s head. Of course, no one is going to bring games closer to reality on this issue. Can you imagine a hero having a club dropped on his head? And instead of drinking red liquid and heading to mow down evil goblins left and right, he would scream, “Ouch, it hurts! I want to go to mommy!” falling into a stupor, or worse, into a coma. No, that won't work. Only fearless knights with stone skin and no nerve endings have the right to survive in a harsh virtual world. Got your guts spilled? No worries, I’ll just fold them back up and carry on.

On the other hand, gaming “hit points” have become immensely tiresome. It doesn’t matter that even with two percent HP, our patient races around like a live wire and continues to cause mischief in full force. And how many pleasant moments have been spoiled by another attribute - the ubiquitous medkit. A serious battle is underway, soldiers from opposing sides are dropping like flies. The sun bathes the earth in a bloody dawn. A dirt-covered commander is trying to reach for his radio. Meanwhile, one cheery soldier is dashing across the battlefield collecting conveniently scattered medkits. Ammo and meds fall from the commander. He watches the soldier looting his fallen body and realizes - he has died, dishonorably dead.

The system of self-regenerating health, famous due to modern shooters, effortlessly solves the problem of medkits. But in such a scenario, one can die for hours. They popped up from behind cover - received three bullets and a couple of grenade shrapnels. Waited five seconds until the bloody mist lifted from their eyes - and it’s back into the unequal fight. Only a few games can justify this kind of resilience. In X-Men Origins: Wolverine, wounds heal right before the player’s amazed eyes. After all, Wolverine is famous not only for his adamantium skeleton but also for his rapid tissue regeneration. Some projects only allow an energy shield or “armor units” (Halo, Alpha Protocol) to replenish, which, however, does not change the situation. An acceptable system still does not exist. And when it will descend upon our souls - it’s unknown.

QTE

I don’t know about you, but I feel very sorry for the hero of the game Shadow of the Colossus. My heart bleeds tears of blood when I see that he spends hours of his life trying to defeat yet another hundred-meter beast. First, he must find a point from which to start a methodical climb across the titan's hide to find its weak spot. Then stab the crack between the scales with a small knife, receive a slap, and repeat the approach… The efforts this task demands are beyond description. At the same time, any Kratos can rip off as many giant heads as he wants by pressing just four buttons. If the “cross” lights up - we sever the artery of the boss, hit “circle” - we break a fang, using “triangle” we drive a tooth into the beast's spleen. And that's it. Of course, quick-time events enrich the game and allow one to enjoy the process of entertainment without any frills. They look nice when inserted in the midst of cutscenes, when an inevitable futile boulder is chasing a hero (Resident Evil 4), and with a press of the shift we rescue the unfortunate character from being squished against the folds of the landscape. But if developers begin to abuse this beautiful technique, they make one want to curse all glowing buttons in the world. For instance, the game Dante’s Inferno forces players to relentlessly mash the button “B” on their gamepad. Open the door - go ahead, do your button mashing. Want to drink some manna - smash the button. Rip the head off that unpleasant guy - press, press, press. When QTEs repeat every minute - that is outright excess.

***

We have reviewed five of the most popular trends. A good dozen more remained off-camera, but less definitive. With these elements, one can assemble a playable project from scratch. What ultimately comes out - a masterpiece or Frankenstein - depends entirely on the developer.

Author - Malkavian