#oneaday Day 175: I picked what to play for #DOScember

As you will know if you’ve been reading for the past few days, I’ve been mulling over what to do for “DOScember” this year on my YouTube channel. I was fairly firmly set on doing another full adventure game playthrough, but hadn’t quite settled on what.

Well, after being recommended the excellent looking The Crimson Diamond, I’m… not going to play that right away. Instead, I’m going to play at least one of the games it cribs extensively from, and a series of adventure games I’ve always wanted to check out but never got around to: the Laura Bow mysteries from Sierra.

I’ve spent a little time familiarising myself with the first game The Colonel’s Bequest this evening, and I think I’ve got a feel for what to expect now. This was a highly experimental game for creator Roberta Williams, and modern commentators tend to agree that it doesn’t quite succeed at what it’s trying to do, but it’s a thoroughly interesting game nonetheless. That sounds like ideal fodder to play, talk about and discuss. Plus, like I say, I’ve wanted to play both Laura Bow games for ages and never made the time to do so.

For the unfamiliar, The Colonel’s Bequest is a mystery-themed adventure game in which you play the 1920s journalism student Laura Bow, who has come along to provide moral support for her friend Lillian while she attends a family reunion of sorts. Said reunion is taking place on the plantation of Colonel Henri Dijon, a former war hero, and is, for maximum creepiness, in the very depths of a bayou in the southern United States.

Upon arriving at the mansion, Laura notes that despite the Colonel announcing that he has left an equal share of his fortune to everyone present (except Laura, obviously), all the family members immediately start being absolute dickheads to one another, and it’s clear that mischief is about to be afoot. What then follows is a curious twist on the usual adventure game formula, where you, as Laura, must wander through the mansion and its grounds, attempting to gather pieces of evidence and knowledge that will allow you to leave the situation 1) alive and 2) with a full understanding of what happened.

The Colonel’s Bequest mostly lacks conventional puzzles, aside from a couple of instances. Instead, the game is mostly about being in the right place at the right time to witness or discover things; the game is split into hour-long Acts, which in turn are split into 15-minute time blocks, and discovering something significant causes time to advance. It’s possible to advance time before gathering important items or speaking with certain characters; indeed, it’s possible to “finish” the game with almost complete obliviousness to what happened around Laura, and you are not penalised for doing so, other than receiving a low “Sleuth” rating in the finale.

What this effectively means is that The Colonel’s Bequest is a game in which taking notes of what happens when, where, how and why is quite important, particularly if you plan to replay the whole thing. Having pieces of evidence or knowledge to ask or tell people about can lead to learning more about what’s going on, and you’ll need to follow all these threads to their various conclusions as much as possible to get the best rating.

I stopped playing for this evening because I don’t want to spoil too much for myself. I suspect my playthrough won’t conclude with me getting the elusive “Super Sleuth” rating at the conclusion of the playthrough, but I’m looking forward to giving it a go anyway. In typical Sierra style, there are some delightful characters involved, along with some fun narration, and this is what I’m really looking forward to: having an excuse to do some silly voices.

Anyway, yeah. So that’s the plan. The Colonel’s Bequest, at the very least. And if I get through that fairly quickly, on to The Dagger of Amon Ra. And if I beat that before December is through, then I’ll look at The Crimson Diamond. After all, I felt like I should probably familiarise myself with the “source material” before jumping into something that is a direct and unashamed homage to it, right?

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.

1857: Video About Vidya

So I took the plunge today and experimented a bit with making some videos. They’re rough-and-ready affairs, recorded live with no special effects, editing or indeed budget, but they gave me an opportunity to practice what it’s like to be playing a game and talking about it at the same time. (It’s harder than you might think!)

First up, I took a bit of time to highlight a Steam Early Access game that I’m terribly fond of: Witch Beam’s Assault Android Cactus.

(This video runs at 60fps if you whack it up to 720p resolution! Exciting! And, moreover, entirely appropriate for a video about Assault Android Cactus, since the devs are very pleased with how fast and fluidly it runs.)

I didn’t find this too challenging to do because I know the game very well already. (In fact, several earlier takes of this video where the mic level was all wrong saw me talking for even longer than the 9-ish minutes in this version; I felt I should probably avoid breaking the 10-minute barrier, though.)

The video was recorded using nVidia’s ShadowPlay software that I mentioned yesterday. It’s supremely easy to use, though there are some slight limitations: it doesn’t work in certain games that don’t use “true” fullscreen or that don’t use DirectX, and the audio recorded from the microphone is compressed somewhat, leading to the slightly “digital” sound of my voice you may be able to hear on the above video.

Still, I’m pretty pleased with how it came out.

Next up, I decided to try something a little more experimental: a blind playthrough (i.e. trying it without knowing anything about it) of a game from my Steam backlog, in this case the indie platform puzzle game 1000 Amps, which I acquired from some bundle deal or other a good while back and promptly never played even once.

This turned out to be quite an interesting little game, and the blind playthrough with commentary was an enjoyable means of exploring it. I don’t know if it makes particularly compelling viewing, but it was fun to sit there and talk about what I was thinking about and how it was making me feel as I was exploring and discovering it. It was kind of like sitting with a friend trying to figure something out for the first time, only the friend never said anything.

Actually, one thing I do quite want to try at some point is combining elements of the Squadron of Shame SquadCast, in which we discuss games in considerable depth, with this sort of thing. I feel going in “blind” but guided by someone who knows the game a bit better might make for some interesting discussions and an enjoyable format to explore. I shall put it to the relevant people and attempt to experiment with it while I find myself with a bit of time on my hands!

I fully intend to continue experimenting with these sorts of videos — and some other formats I have in mind, too — over the next few days and weeks. As I noted yesterday, I’m under no illusions that I’ll be able to make any money out of these, but you never know what grows from the seeds of ideas. It’s something I’ve been meaning to try for a while, and, well, no better time than the present, huh?

If you enjoy what you’ve seen here (assuming you watched them), do please feel free to share them around, like them, comment on them and whatever it is you kids do with the YouTube these days. There’ll be more to come soon, and having now dipped my toe into this crowded marketplace, I’m actually pretty keen to get back to it, if only for fun.

1791: Future Press

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?

1315: Twitchy

I’m still thoroughly baffled by the phenomena that are Let’s Play videos and livestreaming of video games.

In the latter case, I sort of get why it would be useful for e-sports — it allows audiences to watch matchups between skilled players, just like real-world sports — but in the former case… hmm.

The argument tends to run that Let’s Play videos and livestreaming allow people to get a feel for games they might not have tried. And that’s a fair point, with one fairly major-ish issue: the popular Let’s Play and livestream feeds are all for the same games all the time… and they’re popular games that people already know all about. (“Hey guys, DarkPhantom123 here; welcome to part 527 of my Let’s Play Minecraft video!”)

The current trend is for people to post videos of them taking on Spelunky’s Daily Challenge, a randomly-generated level that is the same for all players worldwide. This can occasionally be amusing, but when there are hundreds of people all posting these same videos, I have to confess I find myself feeling like I’d just rather play the game for myself. Perhaps you can learn something from watching someone else’s run, but in my experience, most of these videos tend to be characterised by blind luck and fluke, with genuine skill only entering the picture relatively occasionally. It might just be the people I’ve watched videos of though.

The thing that strikes me the most about all this, though, is that it feels like such a massive waste of time. I love games; they’re my go-to form of entertainment, and I’m fortunate enough to be able to call playing the games I like my job, too. However much I love games, though, whenever I look at, say, the Twitch front page, I feel no desire whatsoever to watch other people playing games; I would rather just get on and play myself. I have lots of games I want to play; it simply, as I say, feels like a massive waste of time to watch other people doing so, particularly when a lot of these streams appear to be nothing more than vanity projects.

I clicked on a few streams on Twitch the other day out of curiosity and felt no desire to keep watching. The first was a guy playing Blizzard’s new World of Warcraft-themed card game Hearthstone, and featured a picture-in-picture webcam view of him playing — hardly the most interesting thing to watch, since he wasn’t talking or looking at the camera; all you saw was him looking engrossed in the game. The second was someone playing the free-to-play MMO Ragnarok Online 2, which featured some dreadful backing music and footage of someone apparently just running around doing random solo quests. Again, why would I watch that? Particularly when Ragnarok Online 2 is free-to-play, even, meaning that if I was genuinely curious about it I could just, you know, download it and actually try it out for myself?

Perhaps this is a generation gap thing; maybe I’m just too old to understand why people would want to treat games as a spectator sport when they’re not designed to be — e-sports excluded, obviously. If I have some free time to devote to games, I want to spend it playing games, not watching other people doing so. Other people apparently disagree, and that’s cool — I just wish I understood the phenomenon a bit better. Can anyone explain it to me?