#oneaday Day 77: I’m not sure I’m enjoying New Doom

A little while back, I felt the need to start something new and not RPG-shaped, so I thought I’d finally get around to giving the Doom reboot from 2016 a go. After several nights of playing it and being roughly halfway through the single-player game, I’m not 100% sure if I’m enjoying it or not.

This is not a slight against anyone who does think it’s good — I know how annoying it is when you love something and someone turns up to shit all over it. But I wanted to pop my thoughts that I’ve had about the game on paper so I can make better sense of them, and perhaps get a better idea of whether or not I actually like it.

The fact I’m asking this question at all can be looked at in one of two ways. Firstly, if you have to ask if you’re enjoying something, you’re probably not. Alternatively, secondly, if you’re not sure you’re enjoying something but you hesitate to say that you dislike it, you probably are enjoying at least something about it. So my opinion is somewhere between those two extremes, I guess.

First, let’s ponder the things I do like. I do like the way the weapons behave and the overall “feel” of the game. There’s a really nice fluid sense of movement to how you move around, defeat enemies, clamber up onto platforms and perform Glory Kills. The way enemies are highly reactive to how you shoot them and blast into bloody chunks feels entirely appropriate for a modern take on Doom, but also reminds me of older games such as Sega’s The House of the Dead. This is a good thing.

It’s nice to play a first-person shooter that moves at speed, has levels that aren’t linear corridors, and which doesn’t kill the pacing of its combat with constant reloading. Doom 2016 has all its weapons act like its classic counterparts, where direct analogues exist — that means no reloading ever, with the exception of the shotguns, but there it’s just part of the overall firing animation anyway, so no harm done. The chaingun is particularly great; the original Doom’s chaingun always felt rather weedy (at least partly because it just played the pistol sound effect in rapid succession) but Doom 2016’s is an absolute beast — as it should be.

Now, onto things that I am less crazy about. Chief among these is the game’s overall pacing. Whereas progressing through a classic Doom level feels like it always keeps you on your toes, in Doom 2016 it feels like you’re moving from “encounter” to “encounter”. It has that thing where you’ll be clambering through the environment and come to a wide open area, and immediately your brain will think “I’m about to get swarmed by enemies”. It’s inevitably right. It’s predictable, and it doesn’t quite feel right. It makes the levels feel like you’re jumping from “exploration mode” to “battle mode”, whereas classic Doom felt like it integrated the two aspects much more elegantly.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing in and of itself. The Shadow Warrior reboot from a few years back was also designed like this, and I think it worked rather well there. It just doesn’t feel quite right for Doom.

The one thing I don’t like at all is how it clearly thinks it’s being some sort of witty anti-corporate satire, but it’s so absurdly over-the-top about it I just find myself being pulled out of the experience. Any time you hear the UAC pep talks over the computer systems on the Mars base, the things being said are increasingly ridiculous, and it crosses the line between plausible satire and just being stupid for the sake of it. I don’t come to a Doom game for the plot in the first place, so this aspect of things feels incredibly ham-fisted and I do not like it at all.

The parts I can’t quite make my mind up about are all the bits where it’s not being a fast-action first-person shooter. The levels are all huge and quite interesting to explore, particularly with all the hidden collectibles around the place, but it also feels like it brings the “explore, battle, explore” cycle into even sharper focus than it already is — at the end of a level, you’ll typically find the exit door sitting there ready and waiting for you, and the rest of the level open for you to explore almost completely unopposed in most cases. Sometimes a few enemies are tucked away off the critical path, but more often than not the secrets are concealed behind traversal puzzles rather than combat encounters. This doesn’t feel very Doom.

I do, however, like the fact that every stage has a reasonably obvious terminal where you can download the full map data for the level and thereby see which areas you have already explored and which you haven’t. Collectibles are also marked on the map, so there’s no farting around pressing the “Use” button (why on Earth is it R3, by the way?) against every wall in the hope something might open up somewhere.

Parts I’m leaning towards disliking are the presence of an upgrade system and “Challenges”. There are times when Doom 2016 almost feels like it wishes it was Diablo or something of its ilk, whisking you away to a completely separate environment to complete a self-contained challenge and rewarding you with some sort of “loot” if you are successful. Some of these challenges are incredibly irritating to complete, such as one where you have 1 point of health and have to defeat 8 increasingly tough enemies using just the basic Shotgun weapon. They’re optional, yes, but once you’re in one if you’re anything like me you’ll likely feel like you have to complete it before you continue on your way.

The mods for the weapons have some quite interesting effects, but I think I’d rather just have an alt-fire mode for each weapon and not have to faff around with upgrading it. Because upgrading it involves acquiring “upgrade points”, which you get through killing enemies in a stage and finding secrets. I guess if one is being charitable, one can look on it as a modernisation of the “Kills / Items / Secrets” breakdown you get at the end of a classic Doom stage, only here it actually has a tangible benefit on your game. But still, unlocking abilities doesn’t feel very Doom.

Same for upgrading your health, armour and ammo maximums. The former two almost feel worthless given how quickly monsters batter down your entire health bar (and how quickly you can restore the whole thing with a Glory Kill or two) and the latter just makes the early game frustrating as you’re constantly running out of ammo in a game where that shouldn’t be an issue.

I understand there is an “Arcade Mode” available in the game and I’m now wondering if I should have just played that from the outset, because it’s all the extra bells and whistles that have been added atop an attempt to modernise the classic Doom formula that feel like they’re annoying me to varying degrees.

On the whole, I don’t hate the game. The bits that annoy me aren’t putting me off enough to not want to play it through to completion. But the game as a whole is reminding me what a beautifully polished, finely honed game the original Doom is — and how, without a doubt, I would probably still rather play that than this, particularly now its recent 576th rerelease, this time running on Night Dive’s excellent Kex Engine, has a bunch of new levels (again) in it.

I’m going to see Doom 2016 through to completion. But I don’t think I’m inclined in any way to want to “100%” it or spend any additional time with it beyond that required to beat the single-player campaign. And I guess that’s fine. I only paid about a fiver for it, after all, so I can’t really complain all that much.

Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.

#oneaday Day 70: Attention Deficit Gaming

There’s a guy (I assume it’s a guy) in a Discord I’m in who is the most attention-deficit gamer I think I’ve ever seen, and I cannot imagine living life like he does. His entire contribution to the Discord in question is announcing what he has bought from a digital storefront today (and he buys a lot seemingly every week) and what he is reinstalling for presumably not the first time.

I get actual anxiety if I have more than one or two games on the go at once. I start feeling like I “should” finish one of the things I’m playing before I start something else. This is an entirely self-inflicted scenario that has come about at least in part from the habits I picked up while working in games journalism and running my own website, but I’m not particularly mad about it; the way I feel about things means that I’m much more likely to play things through to completion and get what I believe to be a full appreciation of them.

If there’s one thing that doing my “Cover Game” thing on MoeGamer for several years taught me, it’s that a significant proportion of games out there have considerable hidden depths that only truly reveal themselves to analysis when you’ve spent a protracted amount of time with the game. I like being able to talk about things in that much depth — even if, as I’ve bemoaned frequently over the last few years, it’s fucking impossible to get anyone to give a shit these days — and thus I don’t have any particular desire to change.

Being in those habits, though, just makes me confused as to what this person is getting out of their gaming time. By jumping back and forth between big games like Fate/stay night, Utawarerumono and numerous others, he’s surely dooming himself to never making any substantial progress in any of them. And when you’re talking story-centric games or visual novels like that, that seems like a… sub-optimal means of enjoying them.

Perhaps I’m the weird one. I know plenty of people who flit from Game Pass game to Game Pass game and think nothing of it. I just think it’s a bit sad that the norm these days seems to be to get a surface-level look at something and then move on to the next new shiny thing. One could say that some games could stand to be a bit shorter — and that’s certainly true — but that doesn’t mean the long ones have no value or aren’t worth sticking with over the long term. It just seems less and less likely that people will actually stick with those longer titles.

I hope that doesn’t mean that we end up with a gaming sector that eschews long-form experiences altogether. I don’t think that will happen — not least because the triple-A studios seem obsessed with “player retention” over the long term, even in single-player titles — but I would say, if you recognise yourself in what I’m describing here: take the time to focus on and complete one game. You might just be surprised what a rewarding experience it is.

#oneaday Day 69: A Grand Day Out

We had a work day out today. Despite us not being based in London and none of us living in London, we went to London.

I haven’t been to London for a very long time. For context, the last time I went to London they had not introduced the ability to “touch in” and “touch out” on the Underground with a credit or debit card.

My work colleagues went to The Crystal Maze Live Experience first of all, but I passed on that as I suspected I probably wasn’t physically fit enough to take part. A shame, because it sounds like it was fun, but I don’t mind too much. I’m knackered enough as it is!

Instead, I joined everyone for lunch at Covent Garden. We went to an “Asian fusion” place with touchscreen tables that didn’t work very well, and had a selection of Japanese-style tapas. Pretty tasty, though I have been left with foul smelling burps.

I suspect that may have been more to do with the cocktails we had at our next destination, an arcade bar just off Oxford street. This was a dingy basement with lots of blacklight and some great arcade machines, though a few clearly needed a bit of TLC on the displays.

There was a great mix of classic stuff, including oldies like Galaga, Pac-Man and Donkey Kong, along with later large scale stuff like OutRun 2 and all three Time Crises. It wasn’t free play, sadly, you had to buy tokens (£9.50 for 15, and a lot of games took 2 tokens) but the CEO was kind enough to provide us a generous allowance. There were also plenty of consoles equipped with Everdrives and equivalents, and those were free for anyone to play.

It was an enjoyable hangout. A little loud for decent conversation — from the music rather than the machines — but there was a nice vibe, and it seemed to pick up and become quite lively as afternoon turned to evening. The gaming-themed cocktails were great, too, even if they were all at least £11 a pop.

I am, however, as previously noted, absolutely pooped, so now it is time to sleep. I suspect I will sleep well tonight!

#oneaday Day 68: YouTube thoughts

I’ve been pondering my YouTube channel ever since I wrote this post. Indeed, I’m still firmly of the opinion that Not Everything Has To Be Content, but I also think I work best when I have some sort of “structure” to proceedings, to know what I’m doing when. So I’ve come up with something for myself.

This is not intended to be a completely rigid structure of [x] videos per week or anything like that, but more some guidelines for me to work within that allow me to cover my diverse interests, celebrate a variety of games and still focus on the things that I’m most passionate about.

So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to work on a four-week cycle, which will go as follows:

Week 1: Atari 8-bit. One or two videos on Atari 8-bit games. Now I’ve covered all the built-in games of The400 Mini, this will be pretty much anything.

Week 2: Atari ST. I love the ST, and there are sections of my audience who love it too, so I want to make sure I make some time for it. Like the Atari 8-bit week, this will be one or two videos on Atari ST games.

Week 3: Public Domain and Magazines. This is relatively “open” to interpretation each time it rolls around, but in this week I’d like to either take some time to read through a magazine on camera, or to cover some of the Page 6 Public Domain Library disks for Atari 8-bit and ST, as I enjoyed the few videos I made on those a while back.

Week 4: Wild Card. This can be absolutely anything I feel like doing. If I feel like playing some DOS games, I’ll do that. If I feel like playing some SNES games, I’ll do that. If I feel like playing some Amiga games, I’ll do that.

I feel good about this; it lets me cover the things that I definitely want to keep covering on the channel, as well as the flexibility to do other stuff. And at any point, I won’t feel guilt if I want to take a week off due to fatigue or the weather or anything like that… I’ll just pick up where I left off!

So that’s that. I’m going to start implementing this from this coming weekend and we’ll keep moving from there. I hope you enjoy!

#oneaday Day 65: Retro Games Aren’t Bad

It seems we’ve reached the point in gaming history where everything over a certain age is automatically “bad”. I’ll be honest, as an enthusiast of gaming from the 8, 16 and 32-bit eras, this is a massive bummer to see, because it makes it a huge uphill struggle to convince people that it’s worth exploring gaming history.

I’m sure this is a temporary thing, and that the people who would get something from acknowledging and exploring gaming history will always find their way into the classics of yesteryear, but it’s still frustrating and annoying. Particularly when people start spouting their opinions as fact.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the realm of home computer games rather than console games. Home computer games were of massive importance to the games industry in Europe, but to see folks so casually write so many of them off because they are perceived as “worse” than console titles from the same period is a huge fucking bummer. Plus we get the old “inverse hype” problem: games that were popular back in the day are now lambasted as “actually not being that good after all”, rather than any consideration being given to why they might have been popular and so well-received back in the day.

A good example is pretty much anything by The Bitmap Brothers. On their original release, to home computer fans, a Bitmap release was an event. These were games that were slickly produced, good-looking and, particularly unusually for the period, sounded great, too, thanks to their use of sampled intro music.

Yes, there were cases where the hype definitely got the better of everyone, with Xenon 2: Megablast probably being the best example of this, but there are other cases where hate is thrown for reasons I genuinely don’t understand. Probably the best example of this is Gods, a well-presented platformer with some interesting levels, plenty of secrets and a lot of replayability.

Speak to someone today about Gods and chances are they’ll brand it as “bad”. Having been playing Gods quite a bit recently due to the impending release of The Bitmap Brothers Collection 2 for Evercade, though, it absolutely is not “bad” at all. To say so is ridiculous. Are there elements of it that might be an acquired taste, or for which game design has moved on? Absolutely. It has stiff controls, an inexplicable inability to jump straight upwards and some of the most obtuse secrets in all of gaming. Like most European-developed platformers, it has no concept of invincibility frames other than immediately after respawing. And it doesn’t scroll or move as smoothly as games developed for console.

But none of those things make Gods a “bad” game. They might make it a game you need to put a bit of time in before you understand it, sure, but again, that’s not “bad”.

There are plenty of other examples of this, too. The James Pond series springs to mind. This is a series that certainly does have a stinker in its midst in the form of The Aquatic Games, but the most commonly cited game from the range that people think is “bad” is James Pond 2: Robocod, which is probably the best of the bunch. And it’s a game that is still pretty good to this day.

Again, though, context is everything. You have to understand that in Europe, console ownership was by no means the “norm” — and those folks who did have consoles maybe only had three or four games. For those who didn’t have a console at all, Robocod was a revelation. Here was a scrolling platform game that, to ST and Amiga owners, offered many of the same appeal elements as titles like Super Mario Bros. and Sonic the Hedgehog. Is it as good as either of those games? No. But that absolutely doesn’t make it “bad”, either. It makes it especially noteworthy that it was among the best platformers we had on 16-bit home computer platforms at the time.

I guess a lot of this is a side-effect of the way that online discussion seems to have precisely zero nuance to it these days, whether you’re talking politics or video games. Everything is an us-vs-them situation, and there are accepted “correct” and “wrong” opinions. And the lack of nuance means that it’s near-impossible to have a viewpoint that takes a little from column A, a little from column B, because both columns want to hand you a flag and make you stand in line glaring at the other group.

I won’t get into political examples, because that’s a sure-fire route to starting some arguments — though I will say that Disco Elysium, which I played recently, handles the “shades of grey” quite nicely — but in the case of video games, there’s very much a divide between those who think console games are the only retro worth preserving, and those who acknowledge that home computer gaming is a thing that actually existed, and in many cases prefer it to what consoles offered.

I occupy a space between those two viewpoints. A lot of my online work focuses on home computer games precisely because there’s not nearly enough discussion about them compared to console games, but that doesn’t mean I reject console games altogether. On the contrary, in more recent years in particular I’ve had a lot of fun exploring parts of the NES, Master System, Mega Drive and SNES libraries that I never had access to back in the day. And those systems are technically superior to the general-purpose home computers of the time.

But that doesn’t mean home computer stuff should be rejected either. There’s value there. There’s cultural history there. Sure, they might not scroll as smoothly, sound as nice or play as well as some console games, but they’re not “bad”. They are part of gaming history, too. And it’s starting to genuinely annoy me when people just reject things they’ve arbitrarily decided are “bad” for one reason or another.

So if that’s you, knock it off. And if it’s not you? Well, I’ve got a bunch of videos you might be interested in…

#oneaday Day 63: Late-Night Disco

Finished Disco Elysium this evening. I think I will save more in-depth thoughts for a proper write-up on MoeGamer, but I came away very satisfied with the whole thing, and impressed that the game as a whole managed to successfully carry a highly replayable 30+ hour RPG without a single combat sequence. If you’ve been hanging fire on giving this one a go, don’t; it’s absolutely great, particularly if you enjoyed Planescape: Torment’s approach to the CRPG: dialogue-heavy, emphasis on the story and on having the flexibility to really “play” your character in a number of different ways, despite following a canonical storyline that focuses on them.

Anyway, that has… been the majority of my day, to be perfectly honest. It’s the last full day of my week off work, so I thought I’d take a day to just do “nothing” in particular, just enjoy something. So I did. And I’m glad I did; it’s always satisfying to reach the conclusion of an enjoyable game, and especially if you can do so while not under any real sort of time pressure to do anything else.

Tomorrow I might go into town for a bit to have some lunch with Andie and a couple of her friends, then I think I might record a few more videos. I had sort-of planned to make a bunch of videos during this week off, but that didn’t happen for one reason or another. I’m not annoyed about that, mind; part of the reason for having this week off in the first place was just to decompress and unwind somewhat from the daily grind and stress of work, so loading myself up with self-imposed “work” to do may not have been the best thing to do.

But anyway. Now Disco Elysium is safely ticked off the list, I can think about other things. I got a few retro treats through the post today — Jungle Strike and Urban Strike for SNES (I already have Desert Strike), Golfamania for Master System and Rad Racer for NES. I’m excited to give all of these a go for various reasons. But that can probably wait until tomorrow. For now, I need a poo, then to go to sleep. So that’s what I’m going to do. In that order.

#oneaday Day 60: Not everything has to be “CONTENT”

I’ve gone on the record numerous times about how much I hate the word “content” to describe individuals’ hard creative work online, but that’s not what I want to talk about today. Instead, I want to talk about a somewhat related matter that has arisen as self-publishing your own writing, videos and all manner of other creative material online has become more and more straightforward.

And that is: not everything you enjoy has to become “content”. Not everything you do has to turn into a video or an article or a blog post or even something on social media.

I am saying this primarily to myself, because I’ve definitely felt myself veering in that direction at times. Indeed, a significant portion of my game collection consists of stuff I picked up because I thought it would be fun and/or interesting to write about at some point — though this was back when I was working an incredibly boring job pre-COVID and had both the time and mental energy to be able to post something substantial about video games nearly every day.

The trouble with thinking that “everything has to be content” (and I’m using that phrase as a shorthand, not as approval of the term) is that it gradually makes it more and more difficult to just enjoy yourself — to such a degree that it can lead to a form of analysis paralysis where you end up discarding certain experiences on the grounds that they won’t be “meaningful” enough. And by “you” in that sentence, I mean “I”.

I am proud of what I have created online: there’s this blog, which might be of interest to someone; there’s MoeGamer, which features a wealth of in-depth articles about games that don’t get much attention anywhere else; and there’s my YouTube channel, which focuses primarily on retro platforms that don’t get as much love as others.

But my brain is always going. It’s always thinking “oh, yeah, wouldn’t it be cool to make an in-depth video about Disco Elysium?” or “go for it! You absolutely can write one article for every single game on Evercade!” or “don’t start playing something else until you’ve finished what you’re playing, because you might not be able to write about it otherwise”.

These of the words of someone who is at risk of turning his hobby into work, and I have become increasingly conscious of it over the last few years. The trouble is, I am increasingly aware of how I’m growing older, and thinking about what sort of “legacy” I want to leave behind. My wife and I aren’t having children — by choice, I should probably add — but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to leave anything behind. I would love it if some of my writing and videos were useful to someone down the road, even if they only have something of a niche interest audience now.

But that doesn’t mean I should spread myself too thin and try to cover everything. That’s simply unrealistic. So I think I should probably try and impose some restrictions on myself to keep my “ambitions” under control, because otherwise I risk 1) overwhelming and burning myself out, and 2) never being able to “just enjoy” something ever again.

So for now I think what I’m going to do is I’m going to keep my YouTube channel focused near-exclusively on Atari stuff: primarily 8-bit and ST, perhaps with some 2600 stuff thrown in here and there if I can be bothered. MoeGamer I’d like to get back to doing some stuff a little more regularly with, so I think I will continue to use that as a means of posting in-depth thoughts on games I’ve actually finished in the case of narrative-heavy games, or spent enough time with to be able to comment on in the case of gameplay-centric titles. That may mean updates are sporadic, but there’s nowt wrong with that. It’s not a professional site, and I’m not in a position where I need or want to use it as a “portfolio” of sorts right now.

Evercade stuff is my day job, so any time I’m tempted to write something or make a video about Evercade stuff in my free time, I should instead channel that energy into doing something about it during working hours, particularly if I hit a period of “downtime” between major time-sensitive jobs. Of course, there are things I can’t do or say when doing things from a “professional” perspective, but honestly it doesn’t really matter too much; if I was doing Evercade stuff privately, I’d be wanting to explain why each and every game (yes, even the “bad” ones) is interesting and worth exploring rather than tearing it apart, and that’s not much different from taking a slightly more “marketing” approach. (Incidentally, if you want to see some of the stuff I’ve done professionally for Evercade, check out the official Evercade blog, and particularly the Evercade Game Spotlight, Evercade Cartridge Preview and Top 5s sections.)

Everything else? I should just enjoy it. Sit back, enjoy without guilt. Write about it or make a video if I feel like it, but don’t place undue pressure on myself to make everything into a video or an article. Sometimes a good time is just a good time and doesn’t need writing about. Sometimes a good time is something best kept to yourself. Sometimes it’s nice to try and forget that the Internet exists, and get yourself back into the ’80s mindset of just enjoying things because.

Anyway, that’s my ramble for today. I’m off to go put it into practice.

#oneaday Day 57: The evolution of interactive fiction

I’ve been playing Disco Elysium for the last couple of evenings. I finally got around to nabbing it in its The Final Cut incarnation last GOG.com sale, and I felt like playing something a bit “different”, so I fired it up. (I’d also been waiting until the hype surrounding it had died down so I could approach it with fresh eyes and zero expectations or prejudices.)

This is a very good game, although it’s also a game for a very specific type of person. Despite having console versions, it is very much a game for those who grew up with PC gaming in what old men like me tend to vaguely refer to as its “golden age” — around the turn of the century, approximately. No, I’ll be a bit more specific; it’s for people who grew up with text adventures and subsequently found themselves particularly enjoying CRPGs on PC in the late ’90s/early ’00s.

The reason I say this is because Disco Elysium has a significant text component. All of it is voice acted — and for the most part voice acted very well, I have to say — but at its heart, it is a role-playing game in which the majority of its major happenings are conveyed almost entirely through text rather than flashy graphics or even animations. It takes some strong cues from the legendary Planescape: Torment in this regard, but it also successfully distinguishes itself as something that builds on what that game was doing, rather than simply aping it.

For the unfamiliar, the big Thing with Disco Elysium is that it’s a role-playing game that focuses almost entirely on non-combat situations. I’m not even sure there’s a combat system at all — after playing for (checks GOG Galaxy) 8 hours so far, there has not been a single fight. Instead, everything has occurred through a combination of exploration and text-based interactions.

This isn’t to say that Disco Elysium is a kinetic novel, either. Not only do you have a lot of choices in terms of dialogue options in most conversations and interactions, but the wide array of skills your player character has play a significant role in almost everything that happens in the game. And, unusually, this isn’t just the form of “SUCCESS/FAILURE” rolls to perform particular actions based on your skills — although those do feature at various points — but rather the various facets of your personality actually “speaking” to you, offering suggestions and commentary on what is going on.

For example, if you’ve put points into the Empathy skill, at various points in conversations your Empathy trait will actually chime in to “conversations”, giving you greater insight into how the person you’re talking to is feeling, or how you might be able to get through to them. Your Perception skill will “speak” to you and notice little habits people have. Your Drama skill will flamboyantly point out opportunities where you might be able to express yourself. And there are tons more besides these examples, suggesting that playing Disco Elysium with a different “build” of skills and stats will end up being a markedly different experience; it’ll still cover the same basic plot beats and events, but doubtless you’ll end up resolving various situations in different ways.

This is really cool, and it feels very much like a natural evolution of interactive fiction. While you don’t have quite as much freedom as in a traditional “text adventure” style piece of interactive fiction by virtue of not having a text parser to type in whatever you want, there’s a really strong feeling that you’re seeing the world through the eyes of the character that you have designed. And, interestingly, that character is designed not as an “ideal”, but as an absolute wreck of a human being.

Amnesia is an overdone trope, particularly in role-playing games, but having your player character waking up with a raging hangover and no memory of what got him into the situation he starts the game in is a great means of bringing the player into the game almost in medias res. You, the player, are discovering things about the game world and the story as the protagonist character is (re)discovering them, and you have a lot of scope as to how you want to play that protagonist, who is canonically a policeman.

Do you play things by the book and attempt to impress your partner with how you get your life back together and work hard on solving the investigation that has brought you together? Do you lean into the “weird” and start freaking people out with how you behave around them? Do you start spouting particularly extreme political ideologies at every opportunity? You have the option to do all of these things in Disco Elysium, right up to deciding that you’re the one who is going to bring Communism to the people, becoming a massive racist or turning into someone whose sense of self-worth flew out of the window along with his shoe prior to us joining the narrative at the start of the game.

A lot of it is smoke and mirrors, I’m sure, but I can’t remember the last time I felt like I was so completely being invited to inhabit the role of a game’s main character. The way Disco Elysium works strikes a great balance between having some things that are canonical fact about the protagonist, and allowing you to mould them as you see fit.

I’m not sure it would have quite the same impact if you had a completely freeform self-insert protagonist, because the temptation there is always to go down the “idealised” route, and a significant part of Disco Elysium involves how one deals with one’s own flaws — whether that be accepting them, attempting to overcome them, ignoring them in the hope they don’t mess things up further for you, or leaning hard into them. By forcing us to inhabit this absolute disaster of a human being, we’re put in a position where we can explore how we might get out of a situation that is pretty much rock bottom. Will we rise to the challenges life has thrown at us — at least some of which are our own fault? Or will we crumble under the pressure?

It’s a game that I feel could have only been made these days. I’m looking forward to seeing how it develops — and if my take on the protagonist manages to survive to the end of proceedings.

#oneaday Day 52: To Be Forgotten is Worse Than Death

I finished Final Fantasy XIV: Dawntrail this evening. Or its main scenario, anyway; I haven’t gone into any endgame stuff such as the Arcadion raid series or level-cap dungeons as yet, but it’s late and that’s stuff best saved for another day.

I’m going to write something big about Final Fantasy XIV on MoeGamer at some point in the next few days, incorporating my thoughts about Dawntrail and the game as a whole as it exists in 2024, but for now I thought I’d share some immediate impressions.

On the whole, I liked Dawntrail. I particularly enjoyed how it felt like a proper “sequel” to the Final Fantasy XIV story that was told between A Realm Reborn and Endwalker rather than just a continuation of the story. This was always the stated intention, but it would have been easy for them to try and weave in stuff that had come before like the Ascians. They actually do weave in some of that past stuff in the latter hours of the story, but in a way that you would in a sequel, rather than a straight “next episode”.

Dawntrail’s main scenario felt quite long, which is probably a mixed blessing for some people. I went back and forth a bit on it as I played — there were days when I didn’t fancy playing it, so I turned to something else then came back fresh a few days later — but on the whole, I think its overall length and structure works effectively. Since it’s a “sequel”, it’s fitting that it is quite considerable in length — and even has a structure quite akin to PS1-era Final Fantasy games, with a notable tonal shift halfway through that absolutely would have been a “Please Insert Disc 2” moment in the Good Old Days.

One thing I think I’ve touched on in previous entries is how I feel Dawntrail’s narrative is curiously timely, given the overall state of our own world. And this feeling didn’t go away as I progressed into the latter hours of the story — but for different reasons. Without getting into spoilers, the first half of Dawntrail is about achieving mutual understanding and cooperation with people from disparate backgrounds and belief systems, while the latter half concerns what happens when it’s not quite possible to achieve that mutual understanding, based on the enormous gulf in culture (and technology) between the two parties.

It also touches on matters such as the energy and environmental crises we’re facing down — particularly if the techbros in Silicon Valley insist on jamming AI everywhere it isn’t wanted — as well as matters of life after death in an age of technological innovation. It’s no coincidence that the latter half of the game is heavily inspired by Final Fantasy IX, one of whose characters’ iconic taglines was “to be forgotten is worse than death”. I’m actually kind of surprised no-one actually said that line at any point in Dawntrail, because heaven knows several characters had multiple prime opportunities to do so. Perhaps they thought it might have been just a touch too on-the-nose.

I’m actually a little annoyed that the patch notes and promotional material for Dawntrail spoiled a significant feature of the game’s overall setting and tone, because I feel that reveal would have been far more effective had it simply come up without anyone knowing about it beforehand. (I won’t mention anything further about it for the sake of those who have deliberately avoided all promotional material for precisely this reason.) And there wasn’t really even a good reason for them to spoil it, either, aside from, presumably, the expectation from the fanbase that everything is laid out for them well before release. And I guess if Square Enix didn’t spoil it, the dataminers would have done so anyway.

Anyway, on the whole, Dawntrail was A Good. I enjoyed that it was possible to play the entire main scenario, including 4-player dungeons and 8-player trials, with NPC sidekicks rather than having to rely on other players, though it’s a bit of a shame that the final boss is a multiplayer-only affair. This resulted in me spending a good 50% of said boss fight lying on the floor while the two surviving tanks finished it off because the healers were also both dead. Not quite the climactic conclusion I had hoped for, but at least I got a good look at the mechanics without having to actually do them.

So yeah. Good job, Yoshi-P and company. You did another great thing.

#oneaday Day 51: The Art of the Thumbnail

I’m in a Discord with some other (relatively) low-subscriber retro gaming and tech YouTubers, and we’ve had some interesting discussions over there. One subject that comes up frequently that I think I’ve derived the most value from is that of video thumbnails.

To put this in context, prior to joining this Discord, and for quite some time, my YouTube channel looked something like this:

I don’t dislike this look. I was rather fond of how each “series” I was doing had its own distinct appearance, and I feel each thumbnail got nicely to the point: telling viewers that it was a video about a particular game on a particular platform.

But that’s not really how YouTube works. However nice it looks to have a lineup of games with lovely consistent thumbnails Criterion Collection-style, it doesn’t necessarily bring the views in. And so, with the advice and encouragement of the folks in the aforementioned Discord, I do things a little bit differently now.

This is how my channel looks today:

I’m pleased with this. Because I feel like these thumbnails do a much better job of intriguing and attracting the viewer’s attention without assuming knowledge — i.e. “what is ‘Atari A to Z’?” — while still allowing me a certain degree of consistency and coherence that makes my work immediately identifiable if you know what to look for.

Best of all, I haven’t resorted to any of the more flagrantly transparent “clickbait” techniques, and “YouTube Face” is nowhere to be seen. The videos I make on YouTube are not for the same audience as Mr. Beast, so I make zero effort to court the sort of people who respond to those sorts of thumbnails.

And it works. At least I think so. Some of my videos perform about as well as what I considered a “solid performance” two or three years ago — that is to say, breaking three figures in the view count — but quite a lot more of them exceed that by two, three or even four times. And I’ve had a few breakout successes: my Super Woden GP 2 video sits at 86K views to date, my look at Ultima love letter Moonring has 21K views to date (and a very long tail), my video covering the announcement of The400 Mini attracted 14K views, and most recently a video on Project Gotham Racing 3 brought in a relatively modest but still impressive-for-my-channel 2.5K pairs of eyes.

I don’t do this for the views, as I quite frequently state; I do it because I enjoy it. But I won’t pretend it’s not nice when a video does well — at least partly because it results in a bit of pocket money for me. That Super Woden GP 2 video made me over a hundred quid within a few days of it being posted. And now I get a small payout from YouTube earnings (i.e. the minimum payment threshold) every couple of months, whereas once it was a far-off goal I thought I’d never achieve. That’s nice.

The secret behind those thumbnails? It’s not really anything complicated. The most effective advice from the Discord I’ve followed is to keep text to just a few bold words, and present those words using at least two of the following: a bold outline around the letters; a bold drop shadow; and slightly rotating various parts of the complete text so that the eye is drawn to lines that aren’t quite “straight”. That’s about it. I don’t overuse colour; I don’t overdo the “big red arrow” or “circling the obvious thing” tricks (although I put in a big red arrow occasionally as an in-joke to the group, which refers to itself as the “Big Red Arrow Club”); and, as noted, I don’t do the “YouTube Face”.

It works for me. The result is a channel full of videos I’m proud to call my own, and which a gradually (very gradually) growing number of people are coming to appreciate. That’s pleasing to me.

YouTube and YouTube culture has myriad problems, but it’s still the best place to create and share stuff like this. It’s a valuable means of self-expression and sharing one’s interests, and it’s something I’m glad I decided to get stuck into exploring properly.

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