2493: Japan’s Great Games, and Their Lack of Coverage

This tweet from the Editor-in-Chief of gaming news site DualShockers caught my attention earlier tonight:

As regular readers will know, I’m a big fan of Japanese games and visual novels and will frequently wax lyrical at great length on the subject of my favourite titles. Hell, I even set up a whole new website — MoeGamer — to have a convenient place to put my more in-depth commentary on games that I’ve found particularly interesting.

Over the last couple of years — in particular since I started my JPgamer column on USgamer, and subsequently moved on to my MoeGamer project after I was laid off from the site — I’ve gotten to know a fair few “faraway friends” on the Internet thanks to a mutual love of games from Japan. And all of them — including me — feel the same way: it’s sad that almost the entirety of a whole country’s output gets thrown under the bus, usually in the name of “progressiveness”, and usually with woefully little understanding of the works they have cast aside.

Sure, the Final Fantasies (except XIV) and Souls games of the world still get plenty of column inches, but the rest, as Nelva points out in his tweet, is ignored at best, and treated appallingly at worst.

I found Nelva’s tweet noteworthy because it’s the first time I recall seeing a member of the games press (aside from me) come out with sentiments like this, outside of sites that specifically dedicate themselves to this sort of thing. As such, I thought it worth talking about a bit, and to draw particular attention to a number of noteworthy developers, publishers and series that are well-regarded and regularly praised among players, but which receive less than stellar treatment from the press.

Let’s talk about the Vita

Dear old PlayStation Vita. One of my favourite platforms of all time, and declared “dead” roughly every two months by some idiot who sees that there hasn’t been a Call of Duty game on it since the atrocious Call of Duty: Black Ops Declassified.

As a handheld gaming machine, Vita is never going to match the big boys in terms of power, and it doesn’t need to: when you’re playing something on the go, aspirations of being some grand cinematic masterpiece are largely wasted on a screen the size of an envelope. And this is why we don’t get any triple-A games on the platform.

ss_46a23fc88e8dcba5f08d62533038e4820875fac1

What we do get is an absolute shitload of Japanese games. What we do get is an absolute shitload of Japanese role-playing games — a genre frequently and erroneously declared “dead” alongside the Vita by people who don’t know what they’re talking about. What we also get is a bunch of visual novels and strategy games. And this is just Japan we’re talking about, remember; all this is on top of all the great indie titles we get from Western developers.

There are a number of developers out there who put out their games on Vita as their lead (or only!) platform. And if these games got any coverage, it would be plain as day to see that the Vita is far from dead; there are plenty of great new games coming out for it on a monthly basis, many of which hail from Japan.

Let’s talk about “progressiveness”

It’s the current fashion in the games press to be as “progressive” as possible. That is to say, it’s fashionable to berate any games that feature attractive women or any kind of provocative, adult-leaning content as “problematic”, in the hope that frequent use of that word will make these critics look somehow educated and intelligent. In practice, all it does is undermine the other big argument these people make, which is that “games need to grow up”. You can have one or the other. You can treat gamers as adults and trust them to handle provocative content, or you can sanitise the medium to such a degree that everything becomes generic, inoffensive waffle.

The ironic thing about the supposed “progressive” arguments against these games — particularly against the ones that feature attractive women — is that they completely fail to explore the game on anything other than the most superficial level. It is, quite simply, “this game has women in short skirts with big boobs, so it’s bad”. This isn’t an exaggeration; this is a paraphrase of several Senran Kagura articles I’ve read from “progressive” games journalists.

SENRAN KAGURA ESTIVAL VERSUS_20160427172247

As I’ve written at great length over on MoeGamer, I find it interesting that a lot of these games from Japan actually handle some pretty weighty themes throughout, and do so sensitively and enjoyably. In some cases, games, much like anime, allow creators to explore aspects of society that are still somewhat “taboo” in parts of Japan, such as homosexual relationships.

Others set a great example by having an all-female cast, often with no mention of men or romantic entanglements whatsoever.

Others still have a point to make with their erotic or quasi-erotic content; a while back, for example, I wrote a lengthy piece about how Criminal Girls uses its S&M-themed ecchi content to reinforce the narrative’s key message about trust. Or there are works like visual novel The Fruit of Grisaia, in which its erotic content is used as part of the characterisation process, particularly when it comes to the character Amane, who is an aggressively sexual individual for reasons that become apparent later in her narrative arc.

In damning the majority of Japan’s cultural output on the grounds of “progressiveness”, the self-proclaimed “progressives” are ironically missing out on some of the most progressive games out there.

Let’s talk about Falcom

Let’s talk a bit about Falcom first of all. Falcom is a developer who has been around since pretty much the dawn of gaming, with its long-running Ys series arguably playing a defining role in the modern action RPG.

Of perhaps even greater note, meanwhile, the most recent installments in the Legend of Heroes series — Trails in the Sky and Trails of Cold Steel — are absolute masterworks in how to blend the best bits of Western and Eastern RPGs. They’re well-written with excellent characterisation (though admittedly too wordy for some), they have some of the most astonishingly detailed worldbuilding I’ve ever seen in a game through a combination of their visuals and their texts, and they’re simply great games, to boot. And yet, it’s rare to hear them mentioned, even by self-professed JRPG enthusiasts in the press.

ss_8cdb7a4dc5289c6f75ca678bd03486446aae3497

Why? Well, at least partly because they were on PSP and Vita as their lead platforms, though Trails in the Sky’s two currently available localised chapters have made the jump to PC since then. It goes back to what we said about the Vita before; it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you don’t cover the games, the platform withers, though at least in the case of the Trails series, there’s the formidable combination of XSEED’s enthusiastic social media team and plenty of fans who are more than happy to promote the series via word of mouth.

But it saddens me that there are probably a whole lot of people out there who have no idea that these games exist, or have no idea quite how good they are. That, surely, is the press doing these games a great disservice.

Let’s talk about Neptunia

And Idea Factory in general, while we’re on.

Idea Factory and its label Compile Heart have been very prolific over the last few years, and it’s fair to say that in the twilight of the PS3 era it took a while for them to find their feet. Titles such as Trinity Universe and Hyperdimension Neptunia were very much inferior to much of the platform’s other fare in technical terms, though those who played them will happily attest that they are both overflowing with charm to more than make up for their technological shortcomings.

Unfortunately, some people have never got past a bad experience they had with a game a few years back, and seemingly outright refuse to cover new titles from a company that has grown astronomically in popularity over the last few years — and, moreover, a company that has clearly learned from its mistakes, with each new game being better than the last by a considerable margin.

ss_506f8073bfe353ec56691e857ca5ea49406d027c

This is most clearly demonstrated by the Neptunia series, which has gone from unknown niche-interest JRPG to full-on cultural phenomenon over the course of the last six years or so. People online love Neptunia. There’s fan art everywhere, there are role-players on Twitter, there are mods for popular Steam games to insert the characters, there are people using Source Filmmaker to create their own Neptunia dioramas and videos — and, of course, there are the games, which tend to enjoy solid sales on console platforms (typically Vita, though the most recent mainline installment jumped to PS4) and then again a few months down the line when they hit PC.

Neptunia games still aren’t the most technologically advanced games on the market, but what they have always had since day one is an absolute ton of soul — not to mention the aforementioned progressiveness thanks to homosexual characters and a strongly capable all-female main cast — and something which is very much underexplored in gaming as a whole: satirical humour. Their developers know what the players want from a Neptunia game, and they provide it. And they are widely loved as a result.

Coverage? Some idiot on Kotaku writing about how the animated Live2D character sprites in the dialogue sequences freak them out. And little else.

I love Neptunia, as you know. But even if I didn’t, it would seem very strange to me not to acknowledge something that is so popular on the Internet at large that it’s frequent meme fodder. And yet that’s exactly what happens with today’s games press: it doesn’t fit the unwritten criteria, so it doesn’t get explored.

Let’s talk about overlooked games

I played through the visual novel Root Letter recently and had a great time with it. I only knew about it because it happened to catch my eye one day when I was browsing the publisher’s other works. I’ve barely seen a peep about it on other websites. I, meanwhile, wrote a bunch about it here.

e2889aletter_20161113191512

In the case of Root Letter, the press can’t even play the progressive booby card to refuse to cover it: Root Letter has no ecchi content whatsoever, instead adopting an art style that features hand-drawn characters and “painted” backdrops of real locations in Japan. On top of looking beautiful, it’s the start of a new series from a fairly major publisher in Japan (Kadokawa) and, judging by the speed we got an English version over here, it looks likely that we’re going to see the other installments shortly after their native versions, too. Not only that, it’s noteworthy in that it focuses not on a group of teenagers as many other Japanese works do, but instead on a group of 33-year olds.

Let’s talk about why this happens

We all know why this happens: clicks. What games critic has time to cover obscure Japanese games when they could be raking in the clicks by posting meaningless, needless “guide content” for Watch Dogs 2 or Call of Duty? know, I’ve been there, done that.

The thing is, this approach to content strategy becomes a vicious cycle. These games remain popular at least partly because they’re always plastered all over the major gaming sites, and the relentless pursuit of This Tuesday’s Article On The Big Game That Came Out Last Week does damage to gaming criticism as a whole because it gives needless amounts of attention to titles that already have a ton of attention on them thanks to their astronomical marketing budgets.

ss_0550d39236a87c6e219389ad101b8375db035488

What I’d really like to see is more sites making a specific effort to go out of their way to cover games that are a little more off the beaten track, but which still have cultural significance of some sort — whether it’s the popularity of something like Neptunia, or the self-conscious maturity of Root Letter — and helping to broaden the medium for everyone. Some sites already make an effort to cover Western indie games in this regard, and while there are occasionally some questions to be asked over whether certain games would be covered if the developer and the writer weren’t friends with one another, I feel it’s more important to note that this is a start.

While we’re on, what I’d also like to see is a complete end to the mockery of Japanese games in the press, particularly by those who clearly have no intention of attempting to engage with a game. No-one should be mocking anyone else’s taste — particularly those in positions of power as “tastemakers”; live and let live.

The insufferable “progressive” crowd are always going on about “diversity”, so what I would very much like to see is an acknowledgement of Japan in 2016 as part of that diversity. There’s still a rich flow of quality games coming out of that country on a monthly basis, and as Nelva noted in that tweet that sparked off this whole entry, very few of them that don’t have Souls or Fantasy in their title get a look-in. Wouldn’t it be great to see that change?

I’m not going to hold my breath, mind you. In the meantime, well, I’ll do what I can with MoeGamer — so please, show your support if you like what you see.

1165: Endless Infinite Discussion

Around this time of year in 2011, one Mr Tom Ohle, a fine upstanding gentleman at the forefront of promoting games you might not have heard of quite so much as the games you have heard of a lot, wrote this post, named The Case of the Great Game Nobody Saw.

Lest you’re too lazy to follow the link, allow me to summarise: Tom works in PR for video games. The titles his company Evolve PR has represented over the years include things like CD Projekt Red’s The Witcher series, the deep strategy games of Paradox Interactive, TimeGate Studios’ Section 8 series, the Anomaly series and numerous others. As all good PR people should, Tom believes in the games he’s paid to promote — some more than others. Sometimes games come along that are genuinely excellent — games that, in Tom’s words, are “magical, revolutionary, disruptive or otherwise worthy of consumers’ awareness” — and, as you’d expect, Tom and co. would very much like to see these titles succeed, and they do their utmost to try and convince various outlets that these games are worthy of coverage and promotion. When these games don’t get the coverage they deserve — either because of “bigger” games monopolising the front page or simply through being rejected outright — it’s enormously disheartening, not only for Tom and co. but also for the makers of these games.

“At its core, this is an issue that pervades entertainment and consumerism as a whole,” writes Tom. “People stick with brands they know. Everyone craps all over themselves (myself included) when a new Rockstar game is announced. That’s fine; they make great games. But in an industry that so often complains about derivative sequels, soulless big-budget productions and a lack of risk-taking, isn’t it about time we started focusing on quality? Shouldn’t those companies looking to push the boundaries of the medium begin to reap the rewards? If things keep going the way they are, we’ll never shed the $60 price point, we’ll get sequels to major franchises every year, and we’ll all keep complaining and wishing things were different.”

Almost two whole years have passed since Tom wrote that post, and I don’t think things have improved at all since then. If anything, I think they’ve got worse. For all Polygon’s posturing about reinventing games journalism and for all Kotaku’s posting of random bullshit only tangentially related to games, we’re still in a situation where an alien visiting the games industry would believe there were only a few interesting games released every year, and that they’re often entries in the same series. Call of Duty. Battlefield. Assassin’s Creed. And so on.

Most recently, I’ve been becoming somewhat frustrated with Bioshock Infinite. I have no doubt whatsoever that it’s a fantastic game, and everything I’ve heard seems to indicate that it is, in the words of a friend of mine, “intelligent Hollywood… a ‘The Matrix of gaming'” and that is, on the whole, a good thing. We need creators like Ken Levine in the mainstream of the industry to push things forward and prove that there’s a market for intelligent experiences as well as Mildly-Racist Brown Michael Bay Manshoot #327. I am glad that Bioshock Infinite exists, that it is apparently living up to the hype and that, I imagine, it is probably selling quite well as a result of all that hype.

What I’m less thrilled about is the fact that it’s not really solving the problem Tom was talking about in his post. Bioshock Infinite may be “intelligent Hollywood”, but it’s still Hollywood. It’s still a single game from a high-profile creator monopolising press coverage and social media, completely dwarfing smaller-scale experiences that — shhh — might actually be more interesting. Do we need videos explaining “why you should play Bioshock Infinite on Hard mode”, articles about its ending, articles about why Ken Levine doesn’t believe in Utopias, articles about how to edit the INI files, tips articles, articles about why having it spoiled didn’t matter, articles about… have I made my point yet? This is a disproportionately large amount of coverage for one game — one very good game, admittedly, and one which has a lot of expectations to live up to, yes, but still just one game, and one game that people were already very much aware of in the run-up to its release. I’m already absolutely fucking sick of hearing about it, and the more I hear about it, the smaller the already-miniscule chance I will ever play it becomes — a phenomenon I discussed in this post.

The standard response to this is, of course, that this is what the greater audience is hungry for. Millions of people are going to buy, play and love Bioshock Infinite, and they should be catered to, as those millions of people are probably also going to want to read lots of things about Bioshock Infinite.

However, here’s my (slightly selfish) question. What about me? What about people like me? What about all of the people out there — I’m sure I’m not the only one in the world — who didn’t really like the first Bioshock all that much (I played System Shock 2 almost immediately beforehand, which just made the fact that Bioshock wasn’t System Shock 3 all the more painful and frustrating) and consequently are not all that interested in this new one? What about the people who are more interested in other types of games? Don’t we deserve some quality and wide-ranging coverage of the things that we’re interested in? (Where’s my “Tips for playing Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory post, hmmm?) We have fan communities and enthusiast blogs, sure, but where’s our high-profile professional outlet covering this stuff that’s a bit off the well-worn path? (Besides Games Are Evil, of course, which I’m not going to pretend is anywhere near as big as I would love it to be!)

The gaming medium has grown up enormously in the last few years. With constantly improving software and hardware technology providing more and more flexibility for interactive artists to realise their digital dreams, and the rise of the indie space and Kickstarter allowing game makers to break free of the shackles of corporate culture, we’re most definitely undergoing the “Cambrian explosion of possibilities” that SimCity, The Sims and Spore creator Will Wright talked about back in 2008. It’s a great time to be someone who enjoys playing games.

But the games press has not evolved alongside the medium as a whole. The medium as a whole is now, as I’ve said numerous times in the past, far too broad for one outlet to be able to do justice to all of. And yet pretty much all of the big outlets choose to focus on the same part of this massively diverse medium. It’s the part with the biggest audience, the biggest budgets and the biggest amount of money involved in it, yes, but it’s still just one part of a whole. Read the news pages of one big site and you’ve read them all. Read the reviews section of one site and you’ve read them all. The sheer volume of things on display at events like PAX East and GDC help a little, but more often than not you still just hear about the same things from slightly different perspectives. Or you hear about Battlefield 4.

Why haven’t we got to a stage where big outlets can feel confident enough to distinguish themselves from one another yet? Don’t give me a reason to stick with one outlet, give me a reason to read all of them because of their completely different content. (Right now, I don’t read any of them with any degree of loyalty, because very few of them provide coverage of the sort of thing I’m interested in any more!)

It’s massively frustrating, and I don’t even work in PR. I can bang my drum all I like about the types of game I’m interested in and want to experience more of… but is anyone really listening?

#oneaday Day 773: Off the Beaten Path

20120301-225122.jpg

The astute among you who follow my gaming posts (which, yes, I’m aware constitute an overwhelming majority of these entries — I am a passionate gaming enthusiast and an occasionally-professional games writer, after all) will be well aware of the fact that over the last few years, I’ve been drifting further and further away from the “mainstream” in terms of the titles I’ve been playing. This initially wasn’t a particularly conscious decision, but rather a reaction to the fact that I just wasn’t enjoying myself with the supposedly “big” titles of the day. I haven’t made it through any Halo games except the original and Reach, for example, and my few forays into Call of Duty have left me feeling by turns underwhelmed and insulted. Similarly, I’ve given up all hope of ever making it through the Assassin’s Creed series since it seems as soon as I think about playing through the older titles, Ubisoft goes and announces another one. You know, like they did today. Bastards.

I can’t quite pin down exactly when this shift in attitudes happened, but I do know that I’ve come across some truly remarkable games in the process. One of the most memorable of these is Recettear: An Item Shop’s Tale, which I picked up as part of one of Steam’s characteristically generous Indie packs during one of the service’s many sales, and promptly played all the way through for 40 hours. This was something of a difference from my expectation, which was that the game would be a shallow, social game-style experience with little depth and no long-term appeal. How pleasantly surprised I was when it turned out to be quite the opposite — deep, fun, well-written (kudos to Carpe Fulgur’s wonderful translation efforts — we’re talking PS1-era Working Designs-quality work here) and immensely satisfying to play. And not an Achievement in sight, either.

The attitude that I’ve decided to take as a result of discovering brilliant titles like Recettear and numerous others like it a little way off the “beaten path” is to simply say “fuck it” to the mainstream, and explore the things that I’m interested in, rather than the titles which the media makes it seem you’re “supposed” to be interested in. It’s been a very long time since I consulted a review prior to purchasing a new game, instead relying on a combination of word-of-mouth, intuition and simple, immediate, visceral reactions to screenshots, descriptions and other media.

This philosophy has also been born from the original ideals of the Squadron of Shame way back in the 1up days. Our original remit as a group was as follows, and I quote directly from the original 1up club page, which still stands today:

Games of Shame. You know you have them. They sit in your closet, collecting dust: Little jewels that you always tell yourself you are going to play, but never get around to. Well, that’s about to change, soldier. You’ve been drafted to join the Squadron of Shame. Here we, the elite members of the 1UP Radio boards, paratroop into the bargain bins and rescue the unappreciated games that deserve to be saved. From there we battle through the trenches as a squad. At the end of the day, we take a moment to break down what made the whole experience worth fighting for by sharing war stories, reflections, and cigars. But the fight isn’t just on the front of retro games: Any game deemed “fit for duty” by command can be put on the pile. At the end of the day, the reason we fight isn’t just to discover new experiences, it’s to answer that simple and fundamental question: “Why do we play?” Now suit up. The pile awaits.

I’ve pretty much stuck by those ideals as the years have gone by, always preferring to check out things that are outside of the mainstream, far from the things that everyone is talking about. I can’t help but feel you can have too much of a good thing in terms of game coverage, and this is a problem which is only compounded by the explosive growth social media has enjoyed over the last few years. By the time a big-name game comes out, there are very few surprises left due to the constant PR trickle of new screens, exclusive reveals, teaser trailers, live-action videos, behind-the-scenes developer diary videos, blog posts, interviews, features, podcasts, multiplayer betas and all manner of other things besides. And when the game does come out, everyone is talking about it on Twitter and Facebook, putting you at serious risk of spoilers — or at the very least, of a feeling of “saturation”.

So rather than bitch and moan about the state of the mainstream, the iron-fist rule of unscrupulous PR agencies and publishers destroying interesting, outlet-unique coverage and games that I have little interest in playing, I’m simply going to ignore stuff that doesn’t interest me and focus on things which sound intriguing. (I’m aware that this post may well constitute bitching and moaning about the state of the &c &c but… but… FUCK YOU, that’s what. WAIT I DIDN’T MEAN IT, COME BACK, I STILL LOVE Y—)

And, subsequently, I’ll cover them myself, right here. I may be late to the party on some titles, but in many cases, things don’t stop being relevant just because of their age, particularly with the number of HD remasters, portable remakes and backward-compatible devices we’ve seen recently. Providing these games with a little exposure here — “little” being the operative word, since I’m well aware of the relatively miniscule amount of traffic this blog generates, and am perfectly happy with that fact — will make me feel better, because then I then know that there’s someone out there (me) appreciating and giving some much-needed attention to titles which maybe don’t have a massive marketing budget or an omnipotent PR organisation managing and coordinating all their coverage. And, as small as my audience here is, if I write something, then there will be people reading about these titles, too. And if just a few of those people think “hmm, that does sound interesting” then I can feel like I’ve done a good job somewhere along the line.

So if I blog about something which sounds interesting and you decide to check it out for yourself, be sure to let me know. I’d love to hear your reactions to titles such as Katawa Shoujo, To The Moon, Recettear, Xenoblade Chronicles, The Last Story and numerous others. Over the course of the next few days/weeks/months, I’m intending to catch up on a variety of PSP titles, starting with Corpse Party and following with the portable Persona remakes. So watch out for those entries soon, and be sure to let me know your thoughts on those games if you’ve also sampled their charms.

And if you’re excited for Mass Effect 3, Assassin’s Creed III or, God forbid, the rumoured Call of Duty: Black Ops 2, then don’t let me stop you being excited — I’d actually love to hear about those games, from you, too. Just be aware I probably won’t be joining you in playing them!