A couple of times, I've attempted a fairly large gaming feat: to play through all the Final Fantasy games in order (with the exception of MMO XI, whose time-consuming nature means that "completing" it is a multi-year project that even many of the most dedicated players haven't finished) and observe the series' evolution over time.
For one reason or another, I've never made it right through the series, and consequently there are a couple of installments right in the middle that I've never played to completion, these being Final Fantasy V and Final Fantasy VI, both of which are regarded as some of the series' finest work with regard to game mechanics (in the case of V) and story (in the case of VI). It's not that I've never wanted to play these games through to completion, it's simply that I've allowed myself to get distracted by various other things and ended up losing my rhythm partway through a playthrough.
I've decided that I'd like to give it another go. This time around, I want to do something slightly different, however: this time around, I'm going to whack all the possible installments I can on my Vita and play them as handheld games. This means that I can do stuff like play through them on my lunch break at work as well as in bed, on the toilet or when I'm away from home. Final Fantasy wherever I go — an appealing prospect, being something of a fan of the series as a whole.
I'm also not going to get too hung up on each one being the only game I play at any given time, too. I will try and get through them in a timely manner, yes, but I'm also conscious of the fact that Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth2 is out soon and I very much want to play that, and I'm also conscious of the fact that I have an astronomical backlog of games to play, many of which contain doe-eyed moe girls that I just can't resist the allure of for too long before giving in. So if I do feel the need to give in and play something like Akiba's Trip (which I own but haven't booted up yet) I'm not going to feel guilty about "betraying" my Final Fantasy mission.
I do, however, want to try my best to work my way through all the main Final Fantasy games (and possibly Tactics) too, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I think it'll be an enjoyable, cool thing to do: a journey through the very long history of one of gaming's most recognisable series. Secondly, there are a number of installments in the series that carry a strong degree of personal significance to me — fond memories of my younger days, and the way I felt when I first played them. Thirdly, although there are a couple of installments I've played several times — most notably VII, which I think is the game I've played through the most times to completion in my entire gaming career over the years — there are also some that I've only ever played through once (such as IX, X and X-2) that I'm keen to revisit, in some cases many years after I've played them. And then, of course, there's the matter of V and VI and the fact I've never beaten them at all.
What's brought this on, then? Well, aside from Final Fantasy XIV's love of referencing old games through both subtle and very obvious means, I got a copy of Theatrhythm Final Fantasy: Curtain Call for Christmas, and it's just reminded me that this is something I've wanted to do for quite some time now. And if I keep putting it off, I don't think I'll ever do it. So there's no time like the present, I guess; I've ordered a big-ass Vita memory card which should be here over the weekend, and then I'll be jumping right in with the first Final Fantasy very soon. I'll be chronicling my thoughts over at the Squadron of Shame forum as I progress through the various games; watch out for a link once I get underway.
So I mentioned yesterday that this last year has been a pretty bumper crop for great games, and I gave a few examples of some titles that I've particularly enjoyed, primarily in the last couple of months or so. I thought I'd continue today with some thoughts on some other games from throughout the year that have stuck in my mind for one reason or another, and which consequently I feel are probably worth your time.
Velocity 2X
The original Velocity, a PlayStation Minis title, put Brighton-based developer FuturLab well and truly on my radar. Blending an Amiga-style aesthetic with some modern, interesting gameplay, Velocity was something I hadn't really come across before: a puzzle-shmup. It combined elements of vertically-scrolling shoot 'em ups with the mind-frying dimensional manipulation of games like Portal to create something enormously enjoyable, very distinctive and hugely addictive. I liked it so much I played through the whole thing again when they rereleased it with enhanced visuals on Vita under the name Velocity Ultra.
So it's fair to say that I was very much intrigued by the possibility of a sequel, particularly after I had the opportunity to get my hands on an early version at the Eurogamer Expo a while back, and test-drive the new side-scrolling platform sections. When the full game finally came out, I was delighted to discover that it very much lived up to its potential — and that even more so than its predecessor, it was a game that continually "evolved" the further through it you went, with each new level gradually introducing new mechanics to the player until the game you're playing in the latter stages is almost unrecognisable from how it was at the beginning.
It has a lovely aesthetic, some excellent music and some supremely tight controls — utterly necessary for a game so focused on speedrunning as this. It's a great addition to the PlayStation Vita's library of more "quick-hit" games that are good for pick-up-and-play fun when you have a few minutes to spare — seriously, fuck 95% of mobile phone games nowadays — and it's a supreme challenge for even the most skilled gamers out there.
Assault Android Cactus
I'm not sure this counts, given that it feels like it's been in development forever and is still in Early Access, but I've certainly played it a whole bunch this year and really enjoyed it. Moreover, it's been wonderful to see how the game has continued to grow and change as its development continues — not to mention the fact that its small development team are lovely people who are a pleasure to talk to, also.
Assault Android Cactus, even in its unfinished state, is an extremely solid take on the twin-stick shooter genre. Taking inspiration from Japanese bullet-hell shooters as much as more Western shmups such as Geometry Wars, Assault Android Cactus features an array of unique characters, each of whom have their own distinctive ways of attacking and fending off enemies. Some are conventional enough, others are… less so. For some players, it'll be a matter of pride to master the more offbeat characters like Aubergine; for others, they'll want to chase high scores with the more "traditional" characters like the eponymous heroine Cactus.
Assault Android Cactus benefits from a clear and easily understood scoring system — something which many of its Japanese influences cannot boast! — and there's a strong emphasis on chasing the elusive "S+" rank for each level by attempting to chain all your kills together into a single combo while avoiding death. This is easier said than done on some levels — particularly the challenging boss encounters, which will give even the most seasoned veterans of the 8- and 16-bit era a run for their money.
I'm really looking forward to the finished version of this great game… and I'm especially looking forward to being able to take it on the go with me thanks to the upcoming Vita version!
Demon Gaze
I'm not going to pretend Demon Gaze is the best RPG I've ever played, but I have to give it an enormous amount of credit for getting me into a subgenre of RPGs that I've never really "clicked" with: the grid-based dungeon-crawler, or "gridder" to some.
Demon Gaze was enjoyable and unusual. Its Vocaloid-heavy soundtrack gave it a very distinctive audio-visual aesthetic, while its environments were varied and a lot of fun to explore. The Demon's Souls-style online features, whereby other players could leave messages on the floor for you to discover, were a lot of fun and occasionally helpful, even amid all the distinctly… inappropriate messages that were also left adorning the dungeon floor at times. The level design was wonderful, making use of simple but effective mechanics like one-way doors, forced movement panels, floors that damaged you and other staples of the genre to create some challenging levels that taxed your brain. And the combat, although simplistic, was enjoyable and nicely streamlined.
It had a surprisingly enjoyable story, too. My past experience with dungeon-crawlers is that they've tended to skimp a bit on the narrative front, which is one of the things I tended to find most offputting — I'm a narrative junkie, after all. Demon Gaze, however, managed to strike a good balance between the mechanics-heavy dungeon crawling and the somewhat fantasy soap opera-esque happenings that went on back at the inn any time you accomplished something significant. The memorable cast of characters with whom you'd interact between forays into the dungeons more than made up for your custom-created party members' relative lack of personality, though pleasingly, the game at least made an effort to incorporate said party members into "background narration" of numerous scenes just so they didn't feel completely irrelevant to the narrative as a whole.
It was a challenging game, too, though arguably a little inconsistent with its difficulty level. It starts incredibly tough, gets much, much easier as you level — so much so that I had to whack up the difficulty level to its highest to have any sort of challenge whatsoever — and then gets monstrously difficult again right at the end, particularly if you choose to pursue the optional post-game extra ending, which you really should if you want to say you've had the full experience.
Demon Gaze was definitely one of my biggest surprises this year, and it makes me much more inclined to seek out other dungeon-crawlers in the future — something I wouldn't have thought to do prior to giving it a shot.
It's getting to that time of year where it's time for everyone to start considering their own personal "Games of the Year", as if someone declaring something their Game of the Year is in any way meaningful or impactful on the experiences of others. Regardless, many of us still do it, if only as a means of celebrating the experiences we've found the most memorable over the course of the last twelve months.
This year I don't really have a single Game of the Year as such, but there are a number of titles I feel are worth making specific mention of. So I'm going to mention them right now.
Steins;Gate
Previously, I knew Steins;Gate was a well-respected visual novel and anime series, but little else about it. When visual novel specialist JAST USA picked it up for localisation and publishing, however, I knew that I should probably to play it, if only to know what it was all about.
I wasn't disappointed.
Spinning an interesting, exciting but plausible sci-fi tale, Steins;Gate is an unconventional time-travel/parallel dimensions story featuring an extremely memorable cast of characters, a very well-realised setting (Akihabara and the surrounding area in Tokyo) and a compelling story that, although lengthy, certainly didn't outstay its welcome.
Steins;Gate will likely prove frustrating to some due to its pure visual novel nature, and the fact that the choices you make throughout are handled in a somewhat odd manner by interacting with the protagonist's phone. If you treat it as a multi-path story rather than a "game" as such, however, you're in for an absolute treat: it's one of the most exciting, thrilling and thought-provoking sci-fi stories I've had the pleasure of experiencing for quite some time.
To say too much more would be spoileriffic, but suffice it to say that Steins;Gate blends fantasy and (obviously well-researched) reality together to create a very coherent, solid whole that is eminently worth your time.
Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn
This one doesn't really count as it came out last year, though I have been continually playing it since last summer, which is noteworthy in itself. Moreover, it's seen four major content patches since its original release, expanding the content on offer to players to nearly twice as much what was in there at launch. Pretty impressive stuff.
The reason why I'm still enamoured with Final Fantasy XIV is the promise for the future. The next major patch promises to wrap up the 2.0 storyline with some sort of Exciting Happenings, then after that it's into the expansion Heavensward (teased above),which promises all manner of new things going on — most noteworthy among them being whole new zones to explore, because although Final Fantasy XIV's patches have greatly expanded the number of dungeons and boss fights available for players to take on, the game's rather small world (by MMO standards, anyway — it's still pretty sprawling if you go around on foot) has remained the same size throughout, with only the town of Revenant's Toll in the Mor Dhona region undergoing noticeably significant renovations over time.
It's been interesting to play a game such as this at high level for such a long period of time. I feel I know the game very well by now, but there are still things I am learning, and the most challenging stuff in the game — we're currently working through the raid dungeon The Second Coil of Bahamut — is still genuinely challenging, even with high-level gear and a party of players that knows the encounter at least reasonably well. I'm looking forward to seeing what the future holds for Eorzea and its surrounding lands.
Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth1
Regular readers will know all about my love for the Hyperdimension Neptunia series, despite its numerous flaws. Re;Birth1 is, to date, the best game in the series, bringing in the solid gameplay of Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory and coupling it with a retelling of the first game's story.
Neptunia's core appeal for me is twofold: firstly, it's simply fun to play. The battle system is hugely enjoyable — if occasionally unbalanced — and it's that rare thing: an RPG where it's a pleasure to grind.
The second core appeal element is to do with its cast of characters, all of whom I absolutely adore. Neptune's hyperactive, childish nature is wonderfully contrasted with the tsundere personality of Noire, the quiet-but-occasionally-prone-to-rage Blanc, the "older sister" Vert and the other supporting characters, and the story, while silly fluff for the most part, is told in such a charming manner — featuring frequent fourth-wall breaking to bring the player into the experience alongside these cute girls — that it's difficult not to sit there with a huge smile on your face while playing through it.
I'm reliably informed that Re;Birth2 and Re;Birth3 are even better, so I can't wait to try them for myself: Re;Birth2 is coming West very soon indeed, and Re;Birth3 hit Japan recently, so we can expect it over here sometime soon-ish, hopefully!
Senran Kagura
I first encountered the Senran Kagura series early this year, and I'm absolutely hooked. Burst brought me an updated version of a game genre I've always been fond of — the 2D side-scrolling Streets of Rage-style brawler — and combined it with cute anime girls and a surprisingly strong story. Subsequent installment Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus — which also made it out this year — brought the gameplay into 3D fully intact, from what I can tell so far, and has cemented my love of the series. And as for Bon Appetit… well. All I can say is "L-lewd!"
The core appeal of Senran Kagura for me is not the fact that its cast is exclusively attractive women with massive knockers — although I'm certainly not complaining about this. (Aside: I actually rather like the fact that Senran Kagura's cast is, on the whole, somewhat on the more "curvy" side than many other video game and anime characters — and not just in the boob area.) Rather, it's about the fact that these characters are actually all very well-defined personalities, and the game explores them in great depth over the course of its unfolding narrative.
Knowing nothing about the game before playing it, I was very surprised to discover numerous levels opening not with short cutscenes then getting straight into the action, but with half-hour-plus visual novel sequences narrated from the perspectives of various different characters. By presenting the story in this manner, the player gets a uniquely personal perspective on the unfolding events as well as the opportunity to "hear" what they're thinking as well as saying. Normally in visual novels, we only get to hear the innermost thoughts of the protagonist character — normally, though not always, intended to be a self-insert for the player and consequently deliberately rather bland. Here, conversely, we're not playing "as" the girls; we're getting the opportunity to learn about them by effectively riding along inside their head as they come to terms with growing up as young shinobi, often on different sides to their friends.
My experiences with the three Senran Kagura games I've had the pleasure of playing to date means that this series is now right up there with Hyperdimension Neptunia in terms of games I'll happily rush out and buy without a second thought the moment they're released. Not bad for a game best known for T&A.
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These are just a few of the games I've had the pleasure of playing this year. They're mostly games I played recently, I'm aware, so over the next couple of days I'm going to rack my brains a bit and think about some of the other games I've played that are particularly noteworthy, and share the joy with you lot a little bit.
That and frantically wrapping presents. It's nearly Christmas, after all.
Today I participated in something that I had only previously heard about: an entire online community coming together to pay its respects to someone.
That "someone" was a person whom I only knew as Codex Vahlda, a Final Fantasy XIV player on the Gilgamesh server whom I became aware of this morning after a casual browse of Twitter.
I didn't know Codex at all. I don't even play on his server, so it's unlikely I would have come into contact with him unless he randomly showed up in a Duty Finder group for running a dungeon, since those pull players from several servers to make complete groups.
Sadly, I'll never have the opportunity to know Codex, as he passed away recently due to complications from renal failure. Both he and his family and friends seemingly knew that he was going to pass on, and it was as he lay on what was to become his deathbed that Final Fantasy XIV players from around the world, and from several different servers, all gathered in the same place — the beach in Ward 1 of the player housing district Mist — and held their own vigil for our fallen adventuring comrade.
Normally, this sort of thing is an event that you tend to hear about after the fact, but I happened to be online just as someone on Twitter was posting about the vigil taking place on Ultros, the Final Fantasy XIV server which I call home. Largely out of curiosity, I logged in to take a look at what was happening, ran down to the beach and, sure enough, found a line of players facing out to sea, "wind-up sun" minions out, bathing the group in a soft light, contemplating whatever they chose to be contemplating as they paid their respects to Codex. I joined them.
After a moment of quiet reflection, people spontaneously began letting off fireworks and balloons — these are items you can acquire in the game and are intended for use upon celebratory occasions such as seasonal events or the newly added "Eternal Bond" wedding system. It was a celebration not only of Codex's life, but also of how one stranger could bring all these disparate people from all over the world together in one place to do the same thing. It was a really, really beautiful moment, and extremely moving.
It's easy to think of the Internet at large, social media and online games in particular, as utterly "toxic" (that's a favourite word of critics at the moment) environments in which everyone is constantly at one another's throats. But every so often something happens that reminds you that an awful lot of human beings are fundamentally decent people, and that regardless of where you're from or what — if anything — you happen to believe in spiritually, the cycle of life and death is, pretty much without fail, something that will always bring us closer together with one another.
Rest in peace, Codex; I never knew you, but I hope wherever you are now, you feel the love of all the strangers who came together to celebrate your life today. May you forever walk in the light of the crystal.
I was pleased to see the other day that Julian Gollop's reimagining of his ZX Spectrum classic multiplayer strategy game Chaos has finally hit Steam. The version of Chaos Reborn currently available is, sadly, only an Early Access version containing nothing but online multiplayer and 7 levels of progression — no sign yet of the ambitious-sounding single-player mode and massively multiplayer/persistent elements — but despite this, it's already looking really rather good.
The original Chaos, for those unfamiliar, was a turn-based strategy game for up to 8 players, both human- and computer-controlled. The aim was simple: destroy your fellow wizards via any means you had available to you, be it direct-damage spells or an array of weird and wonderful creatures you were able to summon.
The "Chaos" of the title came in the form of a balance meter that tipped either towards law or chaos according to the specific spells that various players cast. As the balance tipped in one direction or another, the spells of that respective alignment became easier to cast, while their polar opposites became more difficult. Canny players could manipulate this to their advantage, though the ability to summon creatures as illusions meant that you could never quite be sure if your opponent had really summoned that Manticore or not… were you willing to potentially waste a turn attempting to "Disbelieve" it?
Chaos Reborn stays remarkably true to this original formula, albeit with a few changes. The maximum number of players is now 4 rather than 8, for one thing, and this is primarily to keep play sessions short and snappy — not a pair of adjectives you'd typically associate with turn-based strategy games, but having played a few games today, this particular approach is very welcome indeed, especially when I bear in mind so many multi-hour multiplayer Civilization games that never, ever reached any sort of satisfying conclusion.
Another core difference is the way spells are distributed. Rather than being given a random selection at the game's outset and then tasked with using them as effectively as possible, you now have a deck of "cards" depicting various spells and summoned creatures, and as you level up you'll gain access to more of these — though it's worth noting that these cards aren't necessarily "better", just different, so a level 1 player can still take on a higher-level player without the confrontation necessarily being a foregone conclusion.
This "cards" aspect looks to be interesting, as it promises the ability to build your own decks of spells as you unlock new creatures and attacks. There's a lot of potential to build your own personal play style, and it will be interesting to see how different people approach the game, how to build their decks and how to use the cards therein most effectively.
Chaos' roots are very much in board gaming — the original Spectrum version was even published by Games Workshop — and this aspect very much comes to the fore in Chaos Reborn. Between the deckbuilding and the ability to play games in an asynchronous manner as well as against live opponents, the game has a huge amount of potential, and I'm very much looking forward to seeing how it develops over time. For now, the Early Access version is a decent, if slightly limited package, but exciting things are on the horizon.
Longstanding Internet friend Matt Mason sent me this link earlier. For those too lazy to click, it's an article about an app called Roll20 that is, so far as I can make out, designed for two main things: to facilitate online "remote play" of tabletop role-playing games between players who are scattered around the globe, and to support the "local" experience of those playing together in the same room by making the housekeeping and paperwork required for playing and running a tabletop role-playing game electronic.
It's a good idea, and indeed many role-playing groups already use various electronic solutions to support their sessions, whether it's simply firing up iTunes or equivalent to provide a musical backing to a dramatic encounter, or having an indexed, searchable copy of the rules on hand to save leafing through weighty tomes in the midst of what is supposed to be frantic combat.
The Kill Screen article is a little confused, so far as I can make out; it goes on to mention what it calls "Boardgamegeek-type board games" (with the implicit definition that these are things somewhat more complicated than entry-level fare like Ticket to Ride and Settlers of Catan) and suggests that an app such as Roll20 would provide an adequate solution to what a "pain" many modern boardgames are.
I can't argue that there are certain games out there which are a bit of a pain at times. Stuff like Arkham Horror and Descent have so many cards, chits and tokens that it's 1) difficult to keep the box organised and 2) rather time-consuming to set up and put these games away. Arguably, though, the setup and pack-away time is part of the experience: there's the tactility of punching out all those tokens in the first place, and the satisfaction of laying them out in pleasing arrangements on the table during play — there are plenty of people out there who "pose" their game boards to make good photographs. There's also something inherently satisfying about picking up and playing with physical items: slamming down a card in front of an opponent when you pull off a satisfying move; shuffling through a treasure deck to get your reward from a tough encounter; hoping that the deck of event cards will be kind to you this time around.
I also have mixed feelings about electronic versions of board games. It's cool to be able to play many titles online with far-off friends, but the experience just isn't the same, particularly when playing asynchronously. A single game of Ascension or Carcassonne can take weeks if you let it — and it's very easy to let these things slide, even when they're right there in your pocket on your phone — and it just ends up feeling more like work than fun, particularly if you have a number of games on the go at once. These days, if I'm going to play a board game, I want to do it face-to-face.
That doesn't mean that apps like Roll20 don't have a place, however. In fact, we're already starting to see some interesting examples of technology being used to support — not replace — game components, the most notable of which is the upcoming board game adaptation of classic PC strategy game XCOM, which effectively casts an app in the role of the antagonist "player" or "game master", deals with all the heavy lifting with regard to tracking things and provides suitably randomised elements for which no-one can complain that the decks of cards haven't been shuffled well enough.
There's scope for plenty of other types of things, too; the aforementioned Arkham Horror and Descent would both benefit enormously from phone or tablet character sheet apps, allowing players to keep track of their health, fatigue, equipped items, treasure and all manner of other things without having to gradually take over their corner of the table with cards, chits and all manner of other gubbins. Games like Mage Knight would benefit from their randomised elements being automated and made truly (or as near-as-dammit) random.
I'd never want to give up the physical element of board games altogether. But I think we're starting to move into an interesting new era where traditional physical components and digital elements will come together to produce truly interesting experiences. I'm excited to give them a try.
Alongside Senran Kagura Bon Appetit, which I talked about a bit yesterday, I've also been playing some Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus. I haven't delved into it particularly deeply so far, having only played through three of the Hanzo girls' short mini-arcs (effectively an "arcade mode" of sorts, challenging you to complete five stages of gradually increasing difficulty in succession while working through an eminently silly side story) and spent far more time than I'd care to admit gambling in-game currency on the "Lingerie Lottery", but I've enjoyed what I've played so far.
The thing I liked about Senran Kagura Burst on 3DS is that it was a thoroughly modern take on Streets of Rage-style brawlers — you know the kind: walk from left to right punching things in the face and trying not to get punched in the face yourself. I was a little worried about Shinovi Versus, to be honest; I liked the simple but satisfying button-mashy gameplay of Burst so much that I was concerned the shift to 3D wouldn't be quite as enjoyable to play, what with those pesky extra degrees of freedom to worry about.
Turns out I needn't have been too worried. While the 3D gameplay does have its own idiosyncrasies — the camera can be a pain on occasion — at heart, it still feels very much like Senran Kagura. That means obscenely huge… combos (it's not at all unusual to see combo counts numbering into the hundreds or thousands — though with the more sprawling nature of most stages now, it's significantly more challenging to chain one long string of connecting attacks together without a break), single characters wading into swarms of enemies and punching them into orbit, special moves that range from the faintly plausible to the utterly ridiculous and, of course, ninja girls fighting until each others' clothes fall off.
Senran Kagura Burst felt a tad button-mashy at times, with the Hanzo girls in particular suffering a little from the "hammer the light attack button" syndrome. To be fair, as the girls levelled up, new combos became available that often required you to carefully time your use of the heavy attack button as well as the light attack, but for the most part you could get through a lot of the game with a single button.
Shinovi Versus initially feels a little like this, but try a few different characters and their differences start to become apparent. Poster girl Asuka is very much of the "hammer the light attack button" mould and consequently is suggested as a beginners' character, for example, while Hanzo's resident adorable character Hibari serves up an array of difficult-to-use but effective close-range slap and kick attacks, plus the strange little quirk that it's actually quite tricky to get her out of the air and back onto solid ground once she's up there, thanks to the fact that her aerial light attack appears to cause her to trampoline up and down on whoever happens to be unfortunate enough to be underneath her.
Your opponents are more than simple damage sponges, too. They block, they parry, they counterattack and you need varying approaches to even get near them in some cases. Unlike Burst, there's not really one simple strategy that will serve you well for the whole game; instead, you'll have to assess the situation on the fly and determine whether you're best off charging head-on, trying to get behind them, attacking them from above or waiting to counter them when they approach you. It makes for some enjoyable and thrilling battles that are a lot of fun to take part in.
I haven't got far in the story yet but the early chapters of the Hanzo girls' narrative appear to pick up nicely where Burst left off, with the group's now well-established character traits now more evident than ever before. The rather quiet Yagyuu's obsession with Hibari is kind of adorable to see, particularly as Hibari is a complete contrast to her in almost every way: Yagyuu is reserved and uncomfortable with expressing her emotions, even as it's clear she genuinely loves Hibari, while Hibari is very loud, emotional and open with her affections. I can see there being some potential for interesting situations between the two of them as the story progresses, and I'm looking forward to seeing it.
So far it seems to be a worthy successor to a game I ended up enjoying a lot more than I expected — a game whose appeal goes far deeper than the fanservice and smut it's primarily known for. It's a fine addition to the Vita library, and a great example of how to use a recurring ensemble cast very effectively. I feel it's going to keep me busy for a good few hours yet.
Been playing a bit of Senran Kagura Bon Appetit! over the last couple of days as a precursor to delving properly into Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus. And I've been pleasantly impressed.
For those unfamiliar with the series as a whole, here's a breakdown: Senran Kagura Burst on Nintendo 3DS was the first game in the series released in the West, encompassing what were two separate releases in Japan: Senran Kagura: Skirting Shadows, and Senran Kagura Burst, which incorporated the story of Skirting Shadows and another full story with the five "antagonist" characters from the original. The two stories run in sort-of parallel — there are a few differences in terms of the events which occur, but they end up in the same place and conclude with the same events from different perspectives. The game itself is a modern-day take on brawlers like Streets of Rage and its ilk: you run from one end of a level to the other, beating up groups of enemies in order to proceed, occasionally squaring off against bosses.
Vita installment Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus is regarded as a "spinoff" — the numbered sequel Senran Kagura 2 is a 3DS title — but it follows on from the events of Burst and introduces numerous new characters as well as following the stories of the original cast further. It's still structured like an old-school brawler, but this time gameplay is in full 3D, lending the gameplay a feel somewhere between Streets of Rage, Dynasty Warriors and Power Stone.
Bon Appetit, meanwhile, is a "true" spinoff in the sense that it's not intended to be "canonical" to the main storylines of the other games, which are all fairly serious affairs about what it means to be a ninja, and how difficult it can be to grow up with all manner of difficult responsibilities and expectations thrust upon you. Bon Appetit, conversely, is about cooking, boobs and arses. Pairs of girls from the previous games pair off and engage in a cooking battle against one another, represented as a rhythm action music game played over the course of three rounds, with the loser of each round suffering the indignity of damage to their clothing — the iconic feature of the series as a whole is clothing destruction — and a comprehensive drubbing resulting in being stripped completely naked, covered in tactfully-placed whipped cream and chocolate sauce in order to pose provocatively atop the world's largest cake.
Bon Appetit has absolutely no shame whatsoever, and it's immensely enjoyable as a result. It's lewd and it's rude, but it's also a lot of fun to play, feeling very much like PS1-era rhythm games such as Parappa the Rapper and its ilk. There's a decent selection of catchy tracks — all originals, once again calling to mind PS1-era music games, particularly those with "character songs" such as Bust-a-Groove — and these vary from the fairly straightforward to the extremely challenging, with the two-lane note charts often being composed in such a way as to deliberately confuse you, a process made significantly easier by the backdrop occasionally being filled with giant gyrating bottoms and titties, particularly if you hit the single "heart" note in the song correctly.
In many ways, Bon Appetit is absolutely indefensible. It's pretty much fanservice in its purest form — in fact, it's striking a double fanservice whammy by being a particularly fanservicey game in a series already notorious for its fanservice — but in being this way it's doing exactly what it sets out to do: to provide a fun, silly and enjoyable opportunity to play with a cast of characters who are genuinely beloved by many in a context significantly far removed from their normal situations. The game states up front that it's not intended to be taken seriously, but manages to provide the player with an addictive and strangely compelling experience in the process, even once the initial appeal of "life and hometown" wears off.
So whatever you may find yourself thinking of it after what I've written above, I'm having an absolute blast. And you know what? I think I'm going to go and play a bit more right now.
One interesting thing I've noticed in several games I've played recently — primarily those of Japanese origin that err towards the moe/fanservicey end of the spectrum, unsurprisingly — is what appears to be, or what I'm choosing to interpret as, inspiration from the theatrical world.
Take Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth1, for example, which I finally achieved the Platinum trophy for last night and consequently am (probably) done with for the moment. The Neptunia series as a whole is pretty self-referential, with protagonist Neptune in particular frequently breaking the fourth wall to address the player directly, and various other characters making it abundantly clear that they're aware of the numerous tropes that they embody and that the narrative as a whole is based around.
In spite of all this, though, it plays things fairly straight (well, as straight as it can when Neptune is involved) right up until the final encounter between the goddesses of Gamindustri and the villainous Arfoire. Spoiler: the heroines prevail, justice is served and peace returns to Gamindustri, with a happy ending for all — even more so if you pursue the "true" ending — prior to the credits. And in typical Neptunia tradition, the credits roll is a loving pixel-art homage to classic games of yesteryear, simultaneously recapping several major points in the main game's story while demonstrating the developers' encyclopaedic knowledge of classic game titles.
It doesn't end there, though; after the credits comes a wonderfully heartwarming little sequence in which all the major characters in the game address the player directly and thank them for playing. It feels very much like the video game equivalent of a "curtain call" in the theatre, with each character stepping forward in turn to, effectively, take a bow and allow the player a sense of closure — at least until the next game they feature in. Once that sequence finishes and you save your clear data, that's it; the curtains go down, the lights come up and it's time to leave the theatre.
But like the best theatrical productions and the actors who bring them to life, Neptunia's cast is bigger than the individual games they star in. Rather, despite the games not really having a coherent, canonical chronology of what happens when — the series is very fond of rebooting itself on a regular basis — these recognisable characters simply come together to do different things every so often, whether it's another big RPG adventure, attempting to make it as idols or fighting bad guys in a distinctly Senran Kagura-esque fashion.
The idol game Hyperdimension Neptunia: Producing Perfection in particular is an interesting take on the series in that it's the first in which rather than the characters glancing sidelong at the player and making witty asides to them, the player is actually a participant in the ongoing story. In many ways it's an opportunity to "meet" your favourite characters in a far more intimate manner than previous installments have offered; in fact, it's rather more of a dating sim than an idol management game, since it largely revolves around building up your relationships with the four goddesses as opposed to actually trying to make their careers a particular success. To continue the theatrical comparison, it's like having the opportunity to appear in a production alongside a high-profile star — though the game does take great pains to note at its outset that its events are not "canonical", insofar as anything in the Hyperdimension Neptunia series is "canonical".
I mentioned Senran Kagura above, and this, too, presents an interesting example of how a stable of characters can be reused in a variety of different situations. First game Senran Kagura Burst — actually a compilation of the first two Senran Kagura games originally released in Japan — tells a self-contained story whose visual novel sequences give us some uniquely personal insight into the way the various characters think and feel about what is going on. This format is continued somewhat in Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus, officially a "spin-off" but actually following on from Burst's story.
And then you have Senran Kagura Bon Appetit, also known as Dekamori Senran Kagura. This game is, like Producing Perfection, a spin-off that is not intended to be taken seriously. An overblown, dramatic introductory sequence mirrors that seen in Shinovi Versus, before quipping at the end that you probably shouldn't take everything quite so seriously, so here is a game about large-breasted girls attempting to cook each other's clothes off in time to music.
Yes, you read that correctly; although Senran Kagura is most notorious for its large boobs and clothes-ripping mechanics, for the most part the storylines in Burst and Shinovi Versus are fairly serious in nature, exploring everything from young people coming of age, with everything that entails, to finding the true meaning of one's chosen path in life. Bon Appetit, meanwhile, does have a story — one that I haven't delved into yet, having only tried the "Arcade" mode so far — but largely revolves around the aforementioned cooking so hard your opponent's clothes fall off. And then admiring them covered in chocolate sauce and whipped cream afterwards.
It should be jarring; it should be weird, but somehow — assuming you're already on board with the series — it's not. It works. These characters are being treated more like "actors" performing different roles, albeit as the same people. It brings a sense of comfortable familiarity to the game — like seeing a favourite actor on stage or on TV — even as the games go into all sorts of weird territory, both in terms of subject matter and game styles.
I think right here is one of the reasons I find myself gravitating so strongly towards this style of game more than anything else: I'm a sucker for good characterisation, and if I find a particularly loveable group of characters that I enjoy spending virtual time with, I'll happily take that time together in any form it might happen to take — be it fighting monsters, training to be an idol, being a ninja or having a cook-off. Fortunately, I don't see the Senran Kagura or Hyperdimension Neptunia series going away any time soon, so I look forward to spending many more hours in the company of these virtual young ladies as time goes on.
Sad? Perhaps. But here's the thing: I've come to regard all these characters with genuine affection, even with the awareness that they're all exaggerated anime-style tropes on legs. And that, really, is the essence of moe: the feelings of love or affection towards fictional characters who are specifically designed to elicit such a response. I'd say their creators have done a pretty good job on that front, really.
I was browsing Twitter earlier when I came across the following quote, retweeted by someone I follow.
"If you're a writer writing about video games, I recommend you get your face in front of a camera to prepare for the future."
My initial reaction to this was a fairly straightforward "fuck that", but then I contemplated it a bit further.
I still don't agree with the premise. The written word is a powerful medium and to unequivocally declare, as some people do, that its days are very much numbered is to show that you're extremely blinkered. Yes, there is a large audience out there who enjoy video-based content, but they're just one group who occupy the somewhat younger end of the spectrum. And while this is an important group to court — particularly as they're one of the key demographics for the video game industry — this doesn't somehow mean that all the 30-40 year olds who have grown up with computer and video games since their inception are immediately irrelevant. What it should really mean is that content should be provided to cater to these different audiences, who have very different wants, needs and expectations from media relating to their favourite things.
I'm not sure how representative an example of a 33-year old gamer I am, but personally speaking, I'm not a big fan of video-based content for the most part. I can't stand Let's Plays, for example — I'd rather play the game myself, and there's no way I'm going to watch someone play The Binding of Isaac or Minecraft for literally hundreds of episodes — and I'm not a fan of the numerous variations on the "angry dude shouting about something" formula that proves quite popular.
Exceptions for me are things like TotalBiscuit's "WTF Is…" series, in which he spends 20-30 minutes giving a good overview of a diverse array of PC games, including everything from the options available in the menu to how the game itself actually works; Yahtzee's "Zero Punctuation" series, which doesn't rely on game footage at all and is instead actually more of a well-written comedy series that happens to explore specific games as its central premise; and Extra Credits' (usually) intelligent discussions of all manners of game culture. These are all carried by strong personalities and well-written content, and for me represent the best that video game videos (you heard) have to offer.
Thing is, though, I'm not always in the mood to sit down and watch a video — particularly longer stuff like TotalBiscuit's 20-30-minute affairs. I'm not always in a particularly ideal situation to watch a video, either; perhaps I'm on my phone in an area of poor signal or in an environment where I can't put sound on — in both those cases, this makes video almost completely useless as a medium of delivery, whereas text is absolutely fine in both scenarios.
Despite all this, though, I can sort of see why more and more people are turning to these video content producers. The overall quality of video games writing is rapidly going down the pan, to my eyes, and it's at least partly due to the continuing reliance on the clickbait advertising model. The need for page views has lead to many individual writers (and even publications) jumping aboard the insidious and obnoxious "social justice" train, stirring up pointless Daily Mail-style moral panics and controversies at every turn under the guise of cultural criticism. Long-form pieces such as those that Polygon used to be renowned for clearly don't draw in readers in the same numbers as a table-thumping opinion piece about how terrible it is that you can kill prostitutes in Grand Theft Auto V — and, by the way, let's just recall that the games press a few years ago was quick to quite rightly point and laugh at any mainstream publications that pulled this still exceedingly stupid line of criticism — and thus we get more and more of these perpetually outraged pieces driving frustrated readers away from sites and towards personalities who don't subscribe to these ridiculous, borderline hysterical viewpoints.
But it shouldn't have to be a case of one or the other. There should be a range of different opinions and writing styles; those of us who enjoy the written word shouldn't be pushed away from it in the direction of video by the fact that all these issues are only ever explored from one single sociopolitical perspective. That's what's happening, though, and unfortunately I don't see it getting any better any time soon.
I'm glad I got out of the games press when I did. I don't want to sit in front of a camera — I don't look good on camera: I'm fat, I have bad hair, I'm perpetually unkempt (even when I try to be… kempt), I have terrible dress sense, I have dry skin on my face that flares up when I'm stressed and, moreover, I find it terribly difficult to act naturally when being stared down by a camera — and, on the writing side, I have absolutely no desire to become a source of further moral panics or fuel the perpetual outrage machine. So there doesn't really feel like there's a place for me anyway.
It's sad, really; there's a clear gap in the market here for some old-school media — magazines! — of the ilk we had in the '80s, '90s and early '00s, but no-one seems to actually want to fill it. I can't be the only one hungry for this sort of thing, can I?
