Showing posts with label Visual Novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Visual Novel. Show all posts

Monday, 6 March 2017

The problems with Ace Attorney

Okay. Let's do this.
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I want to preface this by saying I'm still a fan of Ace Attorney, and am really glad it's doing well. It's got great characters, an enjoyable plot, and a fun logic system. I'm about to talk a lot of crap about the series, however, so just keep this in mind... I love Ace Attorney, and still highly recommend all the games.

That being said. Over the course of the last 2 years or so I've finally worked my way through what's generally considered "The Big 3" visual novels, at least in western countries. Ace Attorney, Zero Escape, and Danganronpa. They're all brilliant games, and I enjoyed my time with each. However, after careful consideration, I have to come to a conclusion. Ace Attorney is definitely the weakest link.

I say this because after playing Danganronpa and Zero Escape, I've noticed things they do that were really clever, and then I look back at Ace Attorney, and it just feels... devoid of said elements. Oftentimes it's just a lot of small things, but those small things really, really add up over time. There's no better way to show this than by side-by-siding these games, so let's get right into it!

Yes this is the 2nd article in a row where I compare AA to Danganronpa #noshame

So let's start with the gameplay differences, the more direct comparison. I've already outlined how Ace Attorney and Danganronpa do things differently. Let's talk about what Danganronpa just flat does better.

Primarily what Danganronpa does better is in the logical puzzles and challenges it lays out for the player. Ace Attorney's logic makes sense and is very well paced if you're following the order of deduction. However, if you get one too many steps ahead you're not able to skip to that, and must slog through the deductions you already solved.

This kills pacing completely. When the entire pace depends on your deduction skills, breaking away from it has the unfortunate effect of breaking the pace itself. You get brought to a screeching halt and have to bring the other characters up to speed, when realistically, you could just tell them.

Danganronpa is a lot more careful in its execution of working through arguments. The gameplay is the same, but it frames it in a much better way. This isn't a courtroom, where a logical argument will shut everyone up. You need to punch through the emotions and biases of the other characters, piece by piece, to get to the truth of the matter. You'll take part in minigames where characters won't listen to reason until you throw it right in their face. You'll have to frame answers in a manner that everyone can get.

It's not a matter of finding something that feels off, it's the matter of convincing everyone else it is off. You can push trials forward in Ace Attorney through vague ideas of not feeling right, which will often result in the characters hemming and hawing when you know exactly what's up. The other characters in Danagnronpa are active blocks at all times, so even if you know the answer there's a good, solid reason that feels right as to why you can't just out and say it.

Surrounding all this is the tone of the games. Now, Ace Attorney's tone isn't bad per se. It's a well established fact that it's a larger than life and goofy version of court, one with shouting and dramatic reveals. My question is, well, why?

Look, I get the tone doesn't need to be established, and I understand that consistency is what makes a world tick, not why it's that way. But after playing the other 2 games, Ace Attorney feels rather... empty in its tone. There's just no reason for it, and the craziness is just a thing that kinda.. exists in this world.

The other 2 games justify their tones quite nicely, on the other hand. Danganronpa's trials are tense and very volatile, much like Ace Attorney, but this is justified because, y'know. Murder school. There's a good reason for everyone to be shouting, a good reason for crazy theories to fly left and right, and a very good reason for things to be tense every step of the way.

Zero Escape's tone isn't quite as directly comparable, but for what it is it's done well. The atmosphere is oppressive and claustrophobic. Suspicion runs deep. Everything has this sense of danger and mistrust, and the deadly games played are the only reason the game needs. All the fear and suspicion flows naturally from that. The game knows damn well that it doesn't need to say why everyone's acting this way, because the backdrop has set that from square one. That's where Ace Attorney fails. The backdrop is a law procedural, and it just... is wacky, I guess.

Alright, there's one more point I want to bring up. Bringing continuity between games. This is by no means an aspect that Ace Attorney has failed at. It's more that it just gives it no thought. What I mean when I say that is a character or object from a previous game being brought into the new one. This can be a cool story point, or a fun callback, but it can just as easily be a lazy last minute addition.

I'm going to bring forward that by a lack of looking closely at the why, in and out of universe, Ace Attorney sometimes falls into this trap. Let's take Edgeworth's introduction in the last case. Why is he here? He's never been mentioned or important in this game before. This situation doesn't call for Edgeworth specifically. So why is he here? Outside of the game universe, it's not like Edgeworth achieves anything thematically or similar. There's nothing he does that another prosecutor couldn't do. So why does this situation call for this character from its mythology?

Massive Virtue's Last Reward Spoilers in next paragraphConversely, let's take a look at why Junpei was brought back for the sequel to 999. He, as a character, has a very clear motive: Akane. It was such a big deal for him in the last game, and it's not a surprise it'd continue to be a motivation here. Outside forces gave him this opportunity here, so it's not like it's random chance either. The thing is that here is that there's a clear and pointed reason for bringing a previous character back in Zero Escape, whereas Ace Attorney lacks that clarity much of the time when it does things like this.

It's not as though this is the worst thing in the world, and I'm not trying to say any of this stuff ruins Ace Attorney, not even close. Like I said, it's still great. And it's not like Zero Escape or Danganronpa are immune from their flaws, either. Zero Escape trips up in bringing back Clover from 999, and Danganronpa's character blocking approach backfires sometimes (I.E everything Yasuhiro "contributes" to the discussion).

What I am trying to bring up here is that Ace Attorney could learn a lot from these games. It's still got a strong base, great characters, awesome music, and fun trials. I just wish that it was all a little tighter.

Wednesday, 1 March 2017

Danganronpa Vs. Ace Attorney: How to make meaningful changes

Pleaedon'tkillmeIlikebothgames

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Man, I really cannot get enough of Danganronpa, can I? If you follow me on Twitter (Wink wink nudge nudge) you'll know I've been obsessed with it ever since I started playing. I obsess with a reason, however. Now why is it that all the visual novels I play involving murder trials are so good?

Yes, ladies and gents, today I'm going to be examining and comparing Ace Attorney and Danganronpa, though not to say which one is better(not today anyway). That in mind, let's take a closer look at these, shall we?

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When it comes to these 2 games, comparisons may seem odd at first. One's a high school death game, the other's a law procedural. Though they share investigations and "trials, really even a passing glance at both would never have you making direct comparisons. Those who have played both also know just how different they actually are. So why even compare them?

Mainly because of the underlying gameplay loop, I feel. They both follow the same basic formula of the Setup-Investigation-Trial loop that repeats for 4-6 cases in each game. Each game takes the time to set up its own world, and more importantly, own tone.

Ace Attorney strives for a somewhat clinical tone in its story. Yeah, it's wacky and ridiculous a lot of the time, but when it comes to the cases you're rather... detached, in a word. You often don't have much emotional stake in them, and when you do it's usually a very special case indeed. It has at least a semblance of an orderly trial, with cross examinations and evidence presenting going back and forth. What happens in between is often, ah, insane, but fundamentally it is still a law procedural.

As for the other game in the ring, Danganronpa is the exact opposite, purely chaotic. There isn't any set procedure or process to go through. Cross examinations become debates with many participants. Your own life is on the line, alongside everyone else's. You interact with everyone constantly, and any one person could be a killer or victim. This is no law procedural, it's a psychotic death game.

Let's take a closer look at some individual elements, shall we?

Gameplay

Again, both games do share fundamental bases with the gameplay, being logic puzzles. They both give you a mystery, a bunch of clues, and tell you to work it out through deductive reasoning and step by step logic.

Ace Attorney takes this premise and puts it into a courtroom, perhaps the most fitting environment for such a gameplay idea. All the actual logic you need to employ is step by step and every cross examination has a single key contradiction in it. If you're not cross examining people you're using other gameplay mechanics, yes, but you're always looking for one single flaw, and matching the right piece of evidence with it. The actual gameplay actions you take are all simple button presses, with most of the actual difficulty mainly coming from the logic puzzles you need to mentally work through. 

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The gameplay of Danganronpa is a lot different, despite similar concepts. Danganronpa has you needing to actually physically aim your evidence at the weak points in arguments, desperately sorting through letters to form words, taking part in actual confrontations against others, and more. On top of all this, there are time limits that you need to stay under all the while. Another key difference compared to Ace Attorney is that you've never got a pile of evidence to sort through, and you'll only be given a few truth bullets (evidence) per round of debating.

(I'd put a Danganronpa screenshot here but I literally cannot find one without spoilers)

Danganronpa and Ace Attorney each have you solving logic puzzles in very different ways. The time limit in Danganronpa forces you to think fast with the few options you have, while a lack of time limit in Ace Attorney is offset by you having all of your evidence to use all the time. It's a slow and caculated approach, helped by simple button presses, where in Danganronpa the heated debates where everyone's lives are at stake are much better represented with you needing to get more physically involved. Speaking of...

Premise
You can't talk about comparing these games without talking about the premise. They're such a fundamental part of what gives them their identity and the basic idea is so tightly interwoven with every singe part of the game.

Ace Attorney is a law procedural, obviously. Everything's related to the courtroom. You invesigate and file away evidence, as the police mark things down and the prosecutors prepare witnesses. Everything has a way you need to go about it, a way to question witnesses, and a way you need to ensure a proper, well-run investigation.

Danganronpa is a lot more messy. You know every single murder victim and you know every single murderer, throwing the possibility of a clinical assessment of every case out of the window. It's a tense and emotional setup, and every single person involved with the case is a potential murderer. These are high school kids, and this isn't their job. Every investigation is sloppy and fast, with you having a personal stake (I.E living) in every trial.

The premise does a lot for the tone and motions of each story. Say in Danganronpa, each trial will have a lot of accusations throughout, since everyone wants a culprit found for the sake of their own lives. Ace Attorney stays realistic(ish) to trial format, and you're only allowed to make formal accusations when the time and evidence is right.

It manifests in the little things as well. The manner of the number of people on the stand at once makes Danganronpa more chaotic and Ace Attorney more confined. There's the threat of legal oversight on your actions in Ace Attorney, while anything goes in Danganronpa. Ace Attorney also stays static in trial format while Danganronpa whittles the cast down, slowly making the trials smaller.

Characters
Ok, so I think by this point we've got a general idea of how a core idea behind a game does not a similar game make. Logic is executed on and used in very different ways in a court and a murder school. For the last part of this examination, let's see how characters impact the core ideas and mechanics behind the game.

So Ace Attorney's characters are firmly rooted in the law procedural, once again. There are a lot of characters but for the reoccurring ones, the most important thing to note is that they do this for a living. It's their job, it's what they do every day. Every trial is met with a certain amount of familiarity and confidence. All the lawyers are usually divorced from the case emotionally, and approach it as such. Ace Attorney is mostly made up of an adult cast, as well. Things can get quite crazy overall, but there's always this veneer of professionalism and respect everyone shows. All this is a textbook law procedural, like I keep saying. The characters are shaped and molded to fit this approach.

I don't even know what you'd call Danganronpa on the other hand. Maybe a murder mystery death game? Is that even a genre?

Anyway, the characters in Danganronpa are all high school kids who really, really don't want to be stuck in this death trap. For the purposes of comparing it to Ace Attorney, this is what that change does:
    - This is an abnormal situation for them
    - They have no experience doing this
    - There is no expectation of professionalism

It's not like the characters know what they're supposed to be doing or how. Every investigation and trial is filled with some level of bumbling around and mistakes. As a result, the pacing is a lot more inconsistent, speeding up and slowing down at will depending on how the characters are acting. Ace Attorney stays consistent due to the nature of the characters, Danganronpa adds to the tension by making everything inconsistent, in no small part due to the characters.

We also see how points 1 and 3 seep into every aspect of this game. People are panicking and unsure of what to do. Remember the last time you were in a situation foreign to you and you had no idea what to do? The abnormality to the characters informs how they present themselves and how you need to interpret them. Everyone has something to hide in Danganronpa, while it's really only ever the guilty parties that are maliciously hiding info.

It's truly interesting to see how 2 very different series can have 2 very different tones despite the core gameplay ideas being pretty much the same. I'd say it's a great example of how your idea for a story, or gameplay mechanic doesn't have to limit you in any what whatsoever.

Saturday, 11 February 2017

Dammit, Komaeda

What the hell. Let's make this a 2 parter.

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Spoilers. Obviously.

So previously, I wrote one thousand, four hundred, and fifty-nine words on one single element of the original Danganronpa. Today, I'm gonna examine one character in the game: professional crazy person Nagito Komaeda. Nagito is, in a word, really really interesting. There's a tone and way to his words and actions that really sets him apart from almost every character in the series, a kind of unsettling effect, like he's in the wrong story, reading from an entirely different script, one sort of aware of the story themes, rejecting the ideas of hope and despair yet at the same time embracing them like nobody else does. He almost actively refuses to take any roles in the story or group, up until a point. It's almost impossible to form a coherent picture of this guy, but I'm gonna damn well try to. Let's hope for the best, shall we?

Nagito the Hope

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This was a character expressly written for those who have played the first game. The whole game sort of assumes this anyway, but Nagito sticks out as some sort of parody or critique of the first game's themes and ending. If you've played the first game, the first thing you're going to think when you see him is "Makoto". It's written all over him. Similar design besides the hair, same Ultimate talent, trusts in the group wholeheartedly, hell, the same person even voices him.

Nagito is most certainly not Makoto, however, and the way in which the game starts to hint at and reveal this is instrumental to how you view his character. What may be the most vital element to his character, one you'll see reflected in every part and aspect of this analysis, is the disconnect between his ideals and his words and actions. Nagito talks a lot about hope, and I do mean A LOT. It's as if someone took Makoto's speech at the end of the first game about hope, and how it can overcome any despair, and built the foundation for a character on top of that. Nagito's principle motivations will often well and truly be this simple: he genuinely appears to want hope to prevail. The most striking element I can see is that when he tells you about what he wants, there's no bullshit in those words.

What's interesting about this is that the motivation is the first thing you really learn about the guy. There's none of his actions that will occur later in the way, and because it's shown so soon into the game it's easy to forget how benign Nagito appeared at first. It's also important to remember how little conflict or thought had honestly gone into the series about hope and despair. Hope and Despair were basically fancy names for good an evil in the first game, with good being resolved as the eventual victor as is expected. Of course, this worked fine for a murder mystery focus, with the overall themes and plot being more window dressing and backstory than anything else.

So the second game comes into the mix wanting to get more in depth about these themes and the world, wanting to break free of that simplicity. In essence it breaks free by tying the simplicity to Makoto and Junko, positioning them as forces of nature of Hope and Despair. Nagito pretty much exists as a character to mess with the perception the player likely has going into this game. I really do think that his character is "hope and despair", as in that is how he was written. It's what would happen if these 2 very different ideals were forced into coexisting within a character.

With that all in mind, let's look at our first look at him as a character: hope. Nagito is the first person to help you in the game, and he's the first person you can have a frank, proper discussion with. He's positioned as your partner right out the gate, or at the very least somebody you can trust. He's very much in support of the game of hope, as he should be, and appears to be very thoughtful and easygoing. His statements can be a bit grandiose and odd, but he seems to be a good guy.

What's really cool about this part of the game is how consistent his character remains. He's all about that hope, and when the objective is to be friendly and garner trust to gain hope, he's a pretty nice guy. But the circumstances change, and, well...

Nagito the Despair
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See, the groundwork for his character is that of hope, but he's not quite so simple as that. Nagito is a character obsessed with hope, and that's led him down some dark paths. He only cares about the result of hope, and believes that testing it and the resolve of people is a fantastic way to unlock true hope. He's cautious, never trusting that those around him are truly the hope, always needing to test that hope against despair first.

Nagito as a character spreads much more despair than hope, really. It's that sharp contrast between what he wants in the end and what he will do in the moment that makes him such a controversial person in-universe (Not out of universe, though. We love the guy).

Nagito is there to tear down all your preconceptions about hope being good and despair being evil. Hope is fine and dandy, but what if you'd induce hopeless despair to get to it? Is it worth pushing through despair? Those sorts of questions are at the forefront of Nagito's character, and it's not my position to say one side or another is wholly right. However, the fact is that Nagito's role in the story is these questions, and changing one's perspective is what he was put in there for.

Finally, I want to discuss Nagito's place in the actual plot. The themes are what I wanted to make up the meat but Nagito as a character serves the purpose of a rogue element. What's notable about this is how it changes the dynamic of suspicion compared to the first game.

The most comparable role in the first game would be Byakuya Togami. The difference between Byakuya and Nagito is that Byakuya never actually takes murderous action. He talks a good game but never acts on it, always planning but never moving. Compare that to Nagito, who tries to kill within the first few days.

This is the slow grind of suspicion versus the heated action of suspicion. It's certainly something I want to talk about in more detail in the future, but for now let's stick to a quick overview. In every other case in both games, there is only one person open in their intent to do harm, but only one of them ever actually acts upon it. There are no other characters in their separate games that kill or attempt to who aren't then immediately executed.

What Nagito does for the game as a whole is make it more frantic. He allows alliances against himself to form. He actually lets the remaining participants feel closer, as they all feel united against his obvious malice. What Nagito does for the game as a whole is subtle, but very important, and the closer you look the more impact he actually has.

...And that's a good place to stop this overview of sorts, I believe. I could go on for a lot longer about this guy's impact, but I'd just be rambling at that point and I need to cut this off somewhere. Nagito's one hell of an interesting character, and I love him to death for what he does. Never stop being crazy, you beautiful, hope obsessed person.

Tuesday, 7 February 2017

Danganronpa and Misdirection

Writing a good mystery is very hard.

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It's commonly said that comedy is the hardest genre to write, and honestly I'd have to agree with that. However, if you asked me what the 2nd hardest genre to write is, I'd undoubtedly say mystery. This stems from a variety of things, but foremost in this is the sheer number of mystery stories that have been told. A mystery isn't mysterious if the audience knows what is going to happen, of course. It was a heck of a lot easier to write an engaging mystery even 100 years ago simply because less stories had been told and as a result, more new ideas. This is only exacerbated by the era we live in of information, where anyone can write a story and have hundreds of people read it easier than ever.

So what if you do want to write a mystery now? One way to do that is the most obvious: come up with something never done before. With your enemy being thousands of years worth of human thought, though, you're probably fighting a losing battle. So this leaves aspiring writers to pull on a variety of other methods to make their stories effective. My favourite technique out off all the ones I've seen is misdirection.

It's so simple at it's very core. What it entails is basically pulling the audience's attention away from what has truly happened. Now, you can do this in a variety of ways, with a wide range of fairness. You can gloss over all the important details. You could pull the audience in one manner of thinking, when in actuality that mindset was wrong from the start. You could even (rather unfairly) just never show what the important details are. Bur regardless, the common thread, the one that must be followed to successfully pull of this trick, is leaving the true solution out there while making sure the audience pays no mind to it. I love it when a story does this, and the absolute best execution I have ever seen of misdirection comes from Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc.

Spoilers follow, obviously. Seriously, don't spoil this masterwork of a mystery for yourself. I'm also assuming you've played it so it won't make much sense otherwise.

So Danganronpa is the sort of premise that if I was a fiction writer I'd be terrified of. A story where there are 5 separate murder mystery arcs AND an overreaching mystery to solve? A single mystery is already hard enough! Of course, as you know if you've played it (RIGHT?) the game somehow manages this feat, and manages to do it splendidly. I'm not here to gush about this, however. Today I want to take a comprehensive look through the first case of Danganronpa and look at how it plays with player expectations, tropes of the genre, and of course, how it misdirects you.

OK, so first we should look at the relevant elements before this case even begins. First and foremost is the setting, or rather the important part of it: the killing game. For our purposes, we'll hold the game here as the motive. Fairly self explanatory. Next, of course, is the eventual victim of the case, Sayaka Maizono.

Sayaka is an interesting element for many reasons, but let's just stick with her before her eventual death. To the player, Sayaka is initially presented as an ally, but more importantly someone the protagonist has a prior connection to. What she serves as is an element of stability and relief.

Following Sayaka is of course the 13 other students, ones that at this point we know very little about. A glimpse here or there, perhaps, but in the end our knowledge of them this early on is limited at the best. They're rogue elements.

Finally, there are 2 key events I want to examine as well. These are the CD reveals and Makoto and Sayaka swapping rooms. I'll call these the catalysts.

Seriously this is your last chance before major spoilers if you didn't listen to me before

So we'll fast forward to the events right before the investigation. Sayaka and Makoto swapped rooms for the night, and the next day Sayaka shows up in Makoto's room, murdered by the hand of someone in the group.

Now, this basic setup is great for a few reasons. First, it gives the other characters a reason to totally think on the wrong path in-universe. Obviously, if you're not Makoto, the primary suspect is him since the victim showed up in his room. This is the first way the game misdirects you, by having the actual characters be misdirected, giving a believable reason for it, and most most importantly, disallowing you yourself from thinking that line of reasoning is correct.

That last point is the most important because all the discussion around the case is going to be focused on that line of thinking, meaning you know it's wrong but the game isn't letting you develop other lines of thought. It's intentionally steering you away from the truth, and it's not doing it with any obvious roadblocks either. It's also a nice bonus to raise the stakes.

Another thing the game does that I really like is that it takes full advantage of the point of the story it's at. I can very easily see a scenario where a case similar to this happened later on in the game, but there is no way it would work as well because by that point you'd know more about your fellow students. At the start of the game, however, you've got 2 basic relationships in the game: you know nothing about the others, and you likely trust Sayaka. And then Sayaka is murdered. So you're left in a position where you can't trust anyone but the dead person lying on the floor.

Until you can't even do that.

I'm skipping ahead a bit, but eventually it comes to light Sayaka was the initial aggressor, and in all likelihood was just being friendly and open to Makoto to use him for said purpose. This is great, and I was absolutely freaking out at this revelation because it's brilliant storytelling for so many reasons. Primarily because you probably didn't think of this possibility, right? Everything thus far has been presented as fairly straightforward: Sakaya is trustworthy, nobody else is. But as it turns out, that's exactly what you were supposed to think, and as a result you never even thought of the possibility of her being the true aggressor in this situation. It's also brilliant at a few other things like making you trust nobody and letting you know the usual tropes are not in effect, but that's not what this article's about really. The misdirection is so prevalent not only in this case, but throughout the entire game.

That's Danganronpa's M.O. It's so simple but it works so well. You see it crop up with the Sakura's "Locked room" murder and even intentionally invoked with Byakuya's Genocide Jack troll(for lack of a better term). It's most clearly set and seen in this first case, however, which is why I chose to examine how it uses misdirection. The usage of this little trick isn't braindead, either. They carefully develop it each time (See Genocide Jack reveal) or cleverly bury the important details in the evidence (See Sayaka's motives).

It sees use in many ways, but again, the game is essentially at it's core always trying to get you to look and think in the wrong directions. There aren't many cases where the facts are all there and you simply need to piece them together. There is always some active effort to prevent you from doing so on the part of other characters or the plot itself. You'll notice if you look a little deeper how the actual mysteries wouldn't be that mysterious on their own. "Girl tries to kill man but in struggle man kills her" or "Person commits suicide alone in room" aren't exactly original twists nowadays. However, muddling the story with previous relationships or having actual attacks before the suicide contribute to you not going down the right path and getting sidetracked or interpreting things entirely wrong.

So I hope I've helped you see misdirection in action and how it can immensely help a story. Danganronpa makes liberal use of it and the second I finished it I immediately started to use it as an example here, I don't think I've ever seen a story use it quite so much. I could seriously go on and on about how Danganronpa uses storytelling tricks and gameplay elements for a long time, but I'll cut myself off now. I hope you enjoyed reading, and have a great day!

Saturday, 15 October 2016

A Personal Retrospective on Apollo Justice

Spoilers. Obviously.

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In light of the recent news that Apollo Justice is finally getting a mobile release, now seems a good time to talk about this one game, and hoo boy. This one's a beast to tackle. If you know anything about this game, you know how divisive and controversial this game is. On one hand, you've got the corner of fans who hate this game with a passion, and everything it represents. In the other corner are the fans who like it quite fine, and think the outrage over it is totally unjustified.

If you wish to know where I'm coming from when writing this, I'm moreso in the first camp. Apollo Justice is my least favourite Ace Attorney game, though not because of any drastic shifts in the world. My issues come from the story and actual logic it uses and how confusing it gets. So, sit back and let's figure out where this game went wrong, and more importantly, why.

So how did this all start? After the 3rd game wrapped the story of the series up quite nicely, Capcom was at a bit of a crossroads. Ace Attorney was undoubtedly a money making series that they would do well to continue, but how does one continue after a clean end? Well, usually a reboot is what a lot of writers go for, but in this case, they decided to bring in a totally new character and story, keeping the game mechanics. However, it was eventually decided that they should keep some continuity, so they brought in some old characters as well to appease old fans.

Yeah, that didn't go over well at all. Most notably, Phoenix Wright was brought back, and let's just say a lot of people weren't' very happy with how they did this. It's interesting to look at, because it's a prime example of how not to implement changes in a character. 

The important thing to remember here is that at first, most changes are neutral in concept. I believe that the idea of making Phoenix lose his lawyer's badge wasn't what got most people upset. I personally think it's not a bad idea, and it's even a fantastic story hook to start off with. The problem is that this idea was clearly thought of in a vacuum, and they didn't properly take steps to make this make sense in the game.

This is made abundantly clear in 2 areas, both relating to the smoking gun of this idea: forged evidence. First of all, the manner in which Phoenix loses his badge is contrived as hell and totally clashes with the story and characters set at the end of the 3rd game. At the end of T&T, it was clearly established that going forward, Phoenix had truly outgrown his weak, unconfident roots, and had truly risen to the level of a great lawyer. Nice ending, all wrapped up with a bow. But they ignored this, having him make the truly dumb choice of trusting evidence he had no time to vet. They also make him go against clearly established core values in previous games, him hating the idea of crooked tactics in court.

I rag on these tired points because it would not have been hard to fix these issues. Why not put Phoenix into a scenario where he has no choice but to present the suspect evidence? Say he had a personal connection to the defendant or something along those lines. It would have given a reason for him to act so recklessly. And on the other point, why not use the MASON system's capabilities to show past events to show hints of Phoenix becoming more jaded and disillusioned?

It's very clear that the writers were trying to recapture the essence of the first Ace Attorney game. Rookie lawyer, new world to establish, new gameplay mechanics. But in doing so, they fell into the trap of mostly looking to the first game for inspiration, and that led to Phoenix acting how he did in the first game. When you're not looking to how characters were at the end, you're not going to see any need to explain changes. So of course it seems obvious Phoenix would make a dumb move in that mindset. 

Alright, alright, I slag the game off a lot, but credit where it's due, besides how Phoenix acts, the game pretty much nails the first 2 cases. While a lot of people do just write the entire game off, it's important to recognize that the old AA magic is still very much present in a lot of the game. The setting may not be your cup of tea, but the first case has an excellent and engaging opening unlike any of the other games, and the 2nd case is more of the same old AA excellence in a lot of areas.

Alright, I'm not here to give every detail on this game, as much as I would enjoy that. Just remember that I'm not saying as much about the good aspects of the game because of this fact. What I'm about to say is an analysis of what went wrong in the 2nd half of the game, not what I personally think about it. Just remember that most of the stuff I don't mention I like quite a bit (Especially the music oh my god). 



So, case 3. This is widely considered a bad case by many, and it's an excellent example and word of warning to all story writers wanting to follow in the footsteps of crime stories. It's clear to me here that the separate elements of this case were almost certainly thought of separately, with no cross checking between them to see if they would work well together. It's easy to imagine such a scenario, too.

They come up with the basic idea of the scene being a concert, and they've already got a performer in the cast, so it already fits. They then think of the elements of this case, a defendant who can't speak English, a gun as the weapon, a “locked room” scenario, and the defendant can even be a kid. Maybe we can incorporate international smuggling, and undercover agents too!

Now, all this stuff sounds fine, but the details muddy it up, details that were clearly not , let's say, cross-examined. How is a kid supposed to fire a powerful gun? What motive would a kid have? How would an international smuggling operation fit into the overall story? How do we get the kid to show any personality, since all we really have is text?

All these elements, when you lay them out, look ridiculous if you try to combine them (Seriously, just throwing in international smuggling isn't a good idea). We can see how ridiculous this seems now, so why not back at the conceptual level? I can't say definitively, but the most likely scenario in my eyes is that they created the story in a modular fashion. By the time the separate parts started to grind up against each other badly, it was likely too late to change the fundamental parts of the case. It's a lesson in being sure to check and double check all the important beats in your ideas before expanding on them.

And, finally we arrive at case 4. No, that's not what I'm really wanting to talk about here. Case 4 is fine. Let's discuss MASON.

MASON is the most ambitious thing Ace Attorney has ever really tried. I'll be blunt; it didn't work. I'm not talking about the story, I'm talking about how it was conveyed. MASON, for those of you who don't remember well, is supposed to be a database of sorts where the jury is supposed to trawl through it and come to their own conclusion on the proceedings.

Sigh

I could literally write a whole article about this system, and why in the game universe it makes no goddamn sense. From conflicts of interest to half the stuff in it being seemingly irrelevant to the case, there is no way this would be greenlit. But let's assume for a second that it could get by (With the crazy legal systems in place it wouldn't be too surprising), and examine why it fails the player specifically.

For all the heat I give it, MASON could have worked in theory. A system where we jump between recorded events to try to piece together a story? Sign me up! But the issues are too glaring here to ignore.

It's linear to a disappointing degree. Yes, Ace Attorney isn't known for story paths or anything, but it doesn't let you discover clues and evidence on your own. Rather than using your own logic to figure out what you need look for next, it is in every way like a tightly written investigation sequence, just hopping between time periods. Yes, it still works, but why would we even need to go about figuring out this in such a convoluted manner? In such a story driven game, every piece needs to have a purpose, otherwise it's just fluff and not valuable to the story.

Of course, everyone's biggest complaint with MASON is how it seemingly allows you to transport evidence from the future into the past. Again, if you don't remember, often you would gain evidence from some recorded event in the future, but then go back to a recorded event in the past and still being able to use it. This is handwaved as not being a 100% accurate representation, but that's just not good enough. In a game built around logic and reasoning, such blatant lazy storytelling should not be allowed. It makes no sense, and even if there is a good reason it's confusing to the player, the death knell for any story.

MASON is the sign of the biggest problem with Apollo Justice: things just weren't fitting together well. You can see all the signs of good ideas underlying the problems at every step. Apollo is an interesting idea for a character. The music is SO GOOD (It's my favourite OST in the series guys it's that good).



The problem they hit looks very much to be scheduled related. Many of the ideas and characters were never given enough time to be expanded upon, and a lot of the plot beats simply needed more thought put into them. Apollo Justice is the victim of running out of time.

But it's not all bad, and I want to end this little look back on a positive note, because Apollo Justice is not a train wreck. Not by a long shot. Apollo Justice has excellent side characters, on par with the other games easily. I know everyone hates some of them, but they stick out and are very clear, and you're not supposed to be comfortable with Spark Brushel anyway guys. Seriously.

The game also has engaging cases, something I think a lot of people ignore. Yeah, looking back there are plot holes, but in the moment they've got a great pace to them, and ensure you're always engaged. The game has very clear signposting and good indicators for what you need to do next, something the older games did often fail at.

Regardless of what it does right and wrong, this game is likely going to remain contentious for a very long time to come. And that's fine by me. Every game series is gonna have one of these, right? I still recommend this game to any Ace Attorney fan despite all this, and I encourage you to try the upcoming mobile port if you haven't gotten a chance to play it yet.

And the music guys oh my god can we just talk about this again it's so amazing holy cow


Saturday, 2 July 2016

Some Unique Mechanics

Game mechanics. Oh, the wonders of game mechanics. I love em', you love em', they're what make games tick. So, I figured, why not take the time to appreciate the more unique ones out there? So, I have 3 games lined up here, 3 games that do some different and unique stuff with their mechanics. Without further ado:
Splatoon


Okay, I have issues with this game. BIG issues. But I cannot ignore just how good the core mechanics of the game are, because I have no idea how the devs at Nintendo came up with this. So, for those not up to speed with the game, you do 2 basic things in the game: spray ink with a variety of weapons, and then swim through that same ink in a squid form. You can only swim through your own ink, and the objective of the game is to cover the most ground with ink (In the main mode, anyway).

Not only is this really novel and a great spin on the typical shooter formula, but it is a perfect example of 2 separate mechanics working perfectly in harmony. You shoot ink to swim in, but you have a limited supply, and the way you refill it is to swim in the ink. But you need more ground to swim in, so you spray more ink, which means you need to refill by swimming, and so on and so forth. One mechanic simply cannot exist without the other, and you constantly combine the 2 in interesting ways while you play. Whether that be cutting an enemy's route off with your ink, or spraying a small patch to hide and refill in undetected, these 2 simple ideas; shoot and swim; form the cornerstone for one of the most colourful, explosive, and special shooter games that have ever come out.

And I really can't stress how special indeed this is. Think to all the shooter games out there, how many truly put a spin on the typical shooter formula? Barely any deviate, and the only example I can think of that kind of fits this is Tribes: Ascend. The point here is how unique this is, and how badly this genre needs a mechanics shakeup more than anything else around it. Hopefully Splatoon's success is a good start.

Undertale


You may or may not be screaming in your head “Undertaleohgodwhypleasenomore”, but fear not! This shall not be me going on a ramble about the amazingness of this game. I want to talk about something seldom mentioned, the actual gameplay. More specifically, the bullet hell like mechanics you use to dodge attacks.

Genre mashing is something I wish we saw more of. I have my issues with how the word “genre” is used, but overall it's a handy sorting tool in many circumstances, and a good jumping off point if you're unsure how to describe a game. Genre mashing is the process of taking 2 genres and things from them, like, say, a first person shooter and an RTS, and putting them together into one game. It's a risky move, but I still think it's a shame how segued and cut off the different types of games often are in the industry.

So Undertale is a great reminder how good this practice can turn out. It mashes together the menu and general feel of a standard RPG, while having you dodge attacks through a bullet hell minigame a la Touhou (It's not THAT crazy though). It really lends the game a different feel, as most of your skill involved comes from mastery of this minigame and not the RPG aspects. Those are mainly just a way to interact with the world and choose what to do. It's so simple and elegant, you wonder how nobody thought of this before.

So while Undertale is most certainly not the first game to mash genres, it's a good reminder in this often oversaturated market how there are still many, many untapped ideas and mechanics out there. I'm excited to see them.

Zero Escape: Virtue's Last Reward


Ok, this game is very story heavy and I'm loath to spoil it. I'll be talking about the mechanics and the scenario, so if you consider those spoilers, stop here. No plot beyond that, however.

So VLR (How I'll be abbreviating Virtue's Last Reward) does one thing for mechanics that is truly unique. It takes an age old psychological problem and turns it into a gameplay mechanic. And it is brilliant.

So said problem is the Prisoner's Dilemma. For the uninitiated it goes such: 2 prisoners are brought in on a minor crime, and the police think they did a large one. So they separate the 2 and give them 2 options: rat the other out or stay silent. If they both stay silent, they each get 1 year in jail. If one rats but the other stays silent, the betrayer goes free and the silent one gets 4 years. If they both rat the other out they each get 3 years. It's a system designed to logically designed to make both betray, as if there is even the slightest chance the other will betray you should too, or else you get screwed. In reality when mockups have been made it's not so cut and dry, with prior relationships and the implications of betrayal beyond the jailtime playing a large role. And VLR plays this beautifully.

The game runs off this. The 9 players are trapped in a facility and forced to play a sort of Prisoner's Dilemma. They each have a watch with a point value on it, and every “round” they have to play the Dilemma with another person, and choose ally or betray. If both ally, they each get 2 points. If both betray, no points are gained or lost. If one betrays and one allies, the betrayer gets 3 points and the victim loses 2. If your points hit 0, you die. The goal is to escape through the #9 door after your points hit 9. The catch is that the #9 door can only be opened once.

So VLR locks you in with 8 other people and forces you to choose: Ally, or Betray? It's not just a simple cooperation situation, as the stakes are constantly rising and nobody is quite sure what lies ahead. So if one person decides to be a lone wolf and choose betray, they could get out and screw everyone else over, ensuring their own safety. But if everyone thinks this and chooses betray, nobody gets anywhere.

But points aren't everything, no sir. VLR makes damn well sure you know what betrayal means outside of this point system. Characters will react appropriately if you're a cooperative saint or a betraying jerk. For example, if you try to game the system and get as many points as possible by betraying, the group will turn on you very quickly. If a character confides in you how much they trust you and you stab them in the back, your relationship fractures. It will affect the story and ending you get, big time.

And finally, this retooling of the Prisoner Dilemma works very well in tandem with the multiple endings and routes. You'll start to pick things up and notice character traits that apply in every route. You'll learn stuff that you can apply in the future, and predict how characters will vote and how they'll react to your vote. For a single example, Dio's a dick, big time (apparently Dio is a name that inspires such behavior in media), and you have to take that into account when voting against him.

This perfect blend of high stakes, a psychological question, characters, and the game mechanic of multiple routes makes an amazing experience. The voting in VLR is one of the tensest experiences in gaming simply because of all this. I have spent a full hour agonizing over my choice because there is never a right answer with all these factors at play. It's an assault on your morals and a test of your trust with these fictional characters, and heartbreaking decisions will surely lie ahead.

So, to recap that crazy ramble, this is just so unique because of how it retools an age old question, and how it interacts with the usual visual novel mechanic of multiple routes. But the sheer idea behind it is what impresses me the most. Would you have thought of a game relying on the prisoner's dilemma like this? Most likely not, and we need more ideas out of left field like it. It makes for more interesting games, stories, and experiences. And play the Zero Escape series if you haven't. It's literally one of the best stories in gaming.


So, I hope you enjoyed this small trek through the more inventive side of gaming. I certainly love checking the odd and different areas of it out, and I hope you give some of these games a try, they're all very much worth your time. Thank you for reading, and have a great day.