Tag: Atlus

1149: Let’s Begin the Operation

Page_1I really love the Trauma Center games, and have done ever since I first picked up Under the Knife on a whim early in the lifetime of my Nintendo DS. (As a matter of fact, it was a combination of Under the Knife and Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney that convinced me to pick up a DS in the first place, thereby proving that there most definitely is a market of at least one person for games based around relatively “mundane” things.) I loyally picked up all the subsequent entries that made it to the UK, these being the Wii remake of Under the Knife (known as Second Opinion) and the official sequel (on Wii again) New Blood. To my knowledge, Under the Knife 2 for DS never made it other here, and neither did Trauma Team. It’s the latter I’d like to talk about today, as I’ve had a brief play with it for the first time this evening.

The early Trauma Center games, lest you’re unfamiliar, were curious beasts, somewhere between medical procedural drama, simulation, visual novel, arcade game and batshit crazy sci-fi extravaganza. Essentially they unfolded with lots of talking head scenes between the main characters and others who were involved in the story, and were frequently punctuated with frankly terrifying surgery sequences in which you had to perform various lifesaving procedures with a considerable degree of gusto. Time limits were tight, vital signs were constantly dropping and the dramatic music didn’t help matters. To date, I’ve never played any games that set me so delightfully on edge.

The format didn’t change a huge amount between the three games that made it to the UK. Sure, it jumped from the touchscreen interface of the DS to the “pointer” control of the Wii (which I actually preferred, I think) but for the most part, you were doing fairly similar procedures. In a sense, this was a strength of the series’ gameplay — by learning how to do these relatively straightforward procedures (and learning to recognise when you needed to perform each one) you could eventually end up as some sort of lightning-fast surgery god by the end of each game. It was immensely satisfying to, say, complete a heart operation within the space of about 30 seconds while any astonished onlookers gaze, bewildered, at your frantically-wiggling hands. And by golly, did you need those skills by the end of each game. Each Trauma Center’s final boss (yes, they had final bosses — I told you they were batshit sci-fi crazy) was an immensely challenging piece of game design that forced you to use all the techniques you’d learned as quickly and efficiently as possible, and it felt good when you finally took them down.

A common criticism of the early games was their drift away from recognisable (if “arcadified”) medical procedures and a reliance on made-up diseases that were best treated by playing Space Invaders inside someone’s lungs. (I exaggerate. But you get my drift.) Trauma Team was set to be a rethink of the series, though. To quote Atlus themselves:

“Trauma Team is a subtle departure from the standard Trauma Center game experience. By moving the experience away from a sci-fi concept and making the situations more realistic, our new focus is on the characters and the sense of accomplishment that stems from having saved a life instead of simply beating a stage. It’s our intention to provide you with a medical drama more immersive and fulfilling than any you’ve ever experienced.”

Of course, two pages later in the manual we have this:

“This young surgeon was apparently involved in a biochemical attack on Cumberland University that killed several people, during which he lost his memory but not his impressive surgical skills. While serving a 250-year sentence for the atrocity he can’t remember committing, he was approached by the government with an unusual offer…”

…but then it just wouldn’t be Atlus if there wasn’t a touch of crazy in there. (See also: the orthopaedic surgeon who is also a superhero.)

Trauma Team takes the focus off the surgery (although that’s still present) and adds a bunch of different specialisms that you can flip back and forth between at will. In total, you’ll find yourself indulging in “regular” surgery (hah), first response (improvised surgery with limited tools and multiple patients), endoscopy (first-person perspective bowel ulcer-blasting), orthopaedic surgery (banging nails into things?), diagnosis and forensics. This evening, I tried a touch of the endoscopy and diagnosis, and both were pleasingly distinctive experiences.

In endoscopy, you take control of an endoscope and must carefully thread it through the patient by fine-tuning its angle with the Nunchuk stick and pushing it forward by holding buttons and pushing the Wii Remote towards the TV. Along the way, you’ll run into various symptoms that need to be treated — blood pools need to be drained, ulcers need medicine injecting into them, injuries need haemostatic forceps applying to them. While doing all this, you need to make sure you don’t bang into any walls, and on occasion you’ll find yourself having to thrust your endoscope through various pulsating sphincters without getting caught. The introductory mission wasn’t too tough, but I can see this being good old Trauma Center edge-of-the-seat stuff later on.

Diagnosis was really interesting, though. Rather than being “actiony” like the various surgery sequences, diagnostic sequences are much more adventure gamey. In the episode I played this evening, a teenage girl came in complaining of shortness of breath and it was up to me to determine what was wrong with her. Coming to a diagnosis is achieved through a pleasingly authentic-feeling procedure in which you must question the patient, point out statements that include abnormalities, perform an examination with a stethoscope, review CT, MRI and another type of scan I’ve forgotten the name of results and finally determine what the hell is wrong with the person. There’s even a fun House-style deduction minigame in which your computerised assistant presents you with a bunch of possible diseases, and you have to match the symptoms you’ve found with the various descriptions to whittle it down to a definitive diagnosis.

I’m yet to try the other specialisms, but I can already tell I’m going to like this game a lot. The past games had interesting characters and fun (if insane) stories, and I’m looking forward to seeing where they go with this one. Plus the Trauma Center team is one of the few series where I’ve found myself actively wanting to go back and improve my scores/ratings.

Before I play any further, though, I should probably complete something else. I’m coming up on the end of Kira Kira, so once that’s done I’ll be able to play Trauma Team without guilt alonside Ar Tonelico 2 and SimCity!

#oneaday Day 931: Pure Profit

The more doublespeak I hear from industry analysts and company executives on earnings calls, the more and more glad I am that companies such as Atlus, Carpe Fulgur, Xseed et al exist. (Though Atlus should really pull their finger out and open a European office. I’ll happily run it. Single-handedly. Gladly. Just bring fucking Trauma Team out over here and we’ll be cool, Atlus. Why you gotta be that way?)

Why? Because these are companies whose primary motivation is not profit, it’s pleasing their customers. They accept that they are catering to niche interests and accept that they are not going to create games that sell millions of copies.

Here’s an actual quote from Aram Jabbari of Index Digital Media, Atlus USA’s parent company:

“With the launch of the strategy RPG Growlanser: Wayfarer of Time, an iteration in the popular franchise never before released in North America, Atlus demonstrates the continuation of its proud heritage of supporting niche titles aimed at the core gamer. We are not intimidated by the challenges of servicing a smaller audience or pursuing more modest success with a given project. Our fans are excited for a new Growlanser title and we are excited to be able to bring one to them.”

What a great attitude to take. A bold, proud statement that Atlus specifically isn’t going after the quick buck, but is instead aiming to build long-term loyalty with its customers by giving them the things that they have been asking for.

Note: this is not the same as pandering to the whims of crybabies. It is a case of listening to your customers and providing them with things that they will appreciate, which in turn builds up a strong and significant base of loyalty which can be drawn upon in the future. I know plenty of people who will happily pick up anything that has the Atlus stamp on it purely because of the goodwill the company has built up over the years (goodwill which they’re at risk of losing with the whole Persona 4 Arena region-lock business, but that’s another matter entirely).

It’s the same with Carpe Fulgur, whose dedication to their craft shines through in every one of their three releases so far. While Recettear, Chantelise and Fortune Summoners may not be the most technologically-stunning or even best games in the world, they feature a top-quality localisation job the likes of which we haven’t seen since the days of Victor Ireland and Working Designs on the PS1. They work on niche titles that players might not have heard of, but built up a solid foundation of brand loyalty with Recettear and have continued to provide memorable experiences since.

Then there’s Xseed Games, whom I have to admit I’m not as familiar with, but who are noteworthy for bringing excellent PSP action-RPGs Ys Origin and Ys: The Oath in Felghana to PC, and are also handling the North American release of the fantastic The Last Story. (C’mon, guys, pick up Pandora’s Tower, too — your fans will thank you.)

And then there’s the even smaller niche developers and publishers like Mojang, Gaslamp Games, Zeboyd Games — too many to mention. Not one of these companies is responsible to shareholders and investors, which means they can take a much more “human” approach to business. Their team members can speak as individuals and freely give their opinions rather than stock, robotic “we do not comment on rumours and speculation” responses that frustrate journalists and public alike so. They can enthuse about their products in human terms rather than spouting bollocks like this actual quote from Ryotaro Shima, senior vice president the EML business department at GREE Inc and CEO of GREE UK Limited:

“The formation of a UK studio is strategically significant on many levels. Primarily it will allow us to focus on Western content, keyed to local social trends, as well as tailoring content for global propositions. It also reinforces GREE’s commitment to growth within European markets.”

Besides the fact that these smaller companies tend to have job titles that are less of a mouthful, there’s a clear disparity in the language used. Let’s take a look at another quote that is more roughly equivalent to the one from Jabbari I posted at the beginning of this piece — this one’s from Paul Nicholls, sales and marketing director at Koch Media, annoucing Andrew Lloyd Webber Musicals: Sing & Dance (yes, that is a game that is actually coming out, and you bet it’s a game being made primarily as something that will sell rather than a great creative work):

“This is a fabulous signing for us. Andrew Lloyd Webber and his creations are a British institution that have been enjoyed by generations across the world. The chance to bring this product to market for the Nintendo Wii is both an honour and hugely exciting.”

Note the difference in the language used. Jabbari refers to “our fans”; Nicholls talks of “bringing this product to market”. Jabbari speaks of “servicing a smaller audience”, “pursuing more modest success” and emphasises what Atlus is doing for its fans; Nicholls speaks of what a “fabulous signing for us” the Andrew Lloyd Webber license is — no mention of customers at all.

Obviously those two aren’t exact equivalents — one is a rather niche PSP release while the other is a Wii game based on the music of Andrew Lloyd Webber. But the point stands — personally speaking, I’m much more inclined to respect companies that have a “human” face; companies who make it clear that their first priority is not shifting as many copies as possible, but pleasing, surprising and delighting their fans.

Obviously it would be nice if the niche titles were multimillion-sellers, but that would somewhat diminish their “niche” status. What the continued existence of smaller outfits like Atlus, Xseed and the like proves, however, is that you don’t have to be focused on big business and the bottom line to be successful — it is possible to please your customers and have a company that performs well.

It’s also, I’d argue, a sign that going public is a terrible, terrible idea for a company supposedly based around creative ideas. As soon as “what would be cool?” becomes “what would sell?” or “what will make the investors happy?” I, for one, am no longer interested, because I’m being treated as a bag of money rather than a human being. For all I know, Atlus et al may be laughing all the way to the bank, but because they put such a human, consumer-friendly face on the way they do business, I’m more than happy for them to take all of my monies while I consistently give companies like EA, THQ and Activision the finger until they start speaking English.