Metroid Marathon: The Little Things (MP1)

[Part of a series of posts in which I discuss my favourite videogame franchise: Metroid. Today, a look at the incidental details in Metroid Prime that are so easy to overlook, but enrich the experience when noticed.] 

If three big moments characterized Metroid Prime’s transition from 2D to 3D for me personally, then it is the little things that form the game’s unique personality, give it its atmosphere and constantly surprises almost wherever you turn. It’s the little things that, when combined as a whole, give Metroid Prime a level of detail that few other games can achieve, and when separated provide a subtle, if even unnoticed, addition to the game’s immersion.

Attention to detail isn’t new in videogames, however, the effort some developers put into their games to create an experience that is unlike any other often being the key contributing factor as to whether the overall product -- the end result of a carefully considered vision or idea -- is successful or not. Games like the Uncharted series, Grand Theft Auto IV and BioShock all take care to include the little details, minor additions that will cooperate and assist major ones in forming a particular point of view, understanding or atmosphere, each enhancing the overall experience rather than detracting from it.

A Sap Sac hanging on the side of a wall.

But Metroid Prime’s attention to detail is, I would argue, a lot more subtle than the aforementioned games -- and it’s worth pointing out that they’re all current generation games, too -- using existing features of the game’s world to enhance the immersion. Rain droplets fall onto Samus Aran’s visor if she looks up towards the sky, whilst other drops splash and bead on her infamous beam cannon. Flamethrowers in the Magmoor Caverns area of Tallon IV -- initially something to be avoided -- can be frozen once the Ice Beam has been acquired, progress beyond them now achievable with relative and quick ease. The electricity of Samus’ Wave Beam pulsates whilst the Ice Beam leaves a tiny, cold fog as she moves her beam cannon around. Juice from a Sap Sac drips once it has exploded, whilst acid from a mindless creature’s attack splashes on Samus’ visor upon impact. Fish gently swim amongst the water, quickly scurrying as Samus draws near; a reflection of Samus Aran’s eyes and face can be seen as a burst of light emanates from a nearby explosion; steam clogs up her visor and limits visibility for a brief period of time. When submerged underwater -- particularly before the acquisition of the Gravity Suit -- movements become slow and subdued, with a pleasing sense of weight and a floaty feel making for a nice contrast to the usually quick, agile movements enjoyed on land; the morph ball’s bomb jump ability also shares a similar feeling of weight and casual buoyancy, bobbing up slowly rather than bouncing immediately as on land. Continuing the underwater theme, it actually feels like you truly are submerged when traversing its many depths, the cold, blue and translucent water stretching out beautifully while the aforementioned movement and the game’s clever use of sound enhances the feeling and ensures its effectiveness. Few other games can achieve this submerged feeling -- BioShock 2 is one of the only other examples that comes to mind -- keeping the immersion high and the game’s unique attention to detail amazing.

Fish scurrying about as Samus approaches.

Enemies also receive this level of attention, with a variety of ways to kill them coming to mind. The environment plays a part, a carefully placed shot on a nearby Sap Sac instantly killing something upon its explosion, whilst an idle defense turret can explode on impact from a missile or be disabled by a few shots of the Wave Beam, collapsing it in confusion. The Space Pirates aren’t immune either, their weaves and dodges of one beam quickly turned around as you freeze them, their bodies crumbling to pieces upon another concussive shot. Even boss battles contain subtle ways in which to attack, allowing for strategies that might not be immediately obvious.

The little things may not be unique to Metroid Prime nor might they be instantly apparent, but they all combine to enhance the game overall and assist with immersion, leaving a tiny but acknowledging smile on the face of those who notice them, and indirectly improving the experience of those who don’t.

Beautiful Disaster

Destruction caused by war is fascinating, but what if Mother Nature caused it instead?

War. Death. Destruction. Turmoil.

These are all things that videogames are synonymous with, so much so that brown and grey textures, muddy environments and charred ruins are, perhaps brazenly, more common than colour itself. But most of the time this significant imagery -- the “Destroyed Beauty” of Gears Of War; the apocalyptic ruins of Washington D.C. in Fallout 3 -- is the result of war, the remnants of the past now nothing more than ruins. Why is this? Obviously war and combat are important from a gameplay point of view, justifying these settings, but what if there could be other causes behind the destruction? What if the perdition came not from humanity’s struggle or fight against an enemy but from something out of our control? What if Mother Nature was responsible instead?

This is something I have been considering for a while now and something that I’m reminded of every time another game with an environment impacted by disaster comes along or, this year, another tragedy in real life occurs. In fact, this year’s sheer quantity of natural disasters has been so significant that I have felt compelled to delay this post out of respect for those who have suffered from them or, worse, lost their lives. The floods and cyclone in Queensland; the Earthquake in Christchurch, New Zealand; Tsunami (and subsequent nuclear disaster) in Japan; floods in Brazil; the Californian fires or, indeed, the recent tornadoes in America, including the recent one which wiped portions of the city of Joplin off the map -- all of these and more have been exceptionally serious, extremely unfortunate events that, when combined, make this year absolutely horrific and inherently depressing. I put off this post because I felt uncomfortable publishing it -- much like the creators behind those games that were either delayed or cancelled, I imagine -- when so many things were happening and where so many people were being affected. But I can’t put it off forever and, forgetting the tragic brutality we’ve seen so far this year, for a moment at least, I think that natural disasters in videogames could be something important and definitely an area worth exploring. Allow me to explain.

Videogame spaces, in this generation in particular, have come alive, with thematic settings, incredible atmosphere and multiple stories to tell. Discovery has been particularly strong, finding an abandoned shack in Fallout or a messy room in BioShock an intriguing affair, both because it gets us, as players, asking questions -- why is this room like this? What happened here? Where did the owners of this shack go? -- and because it adds weight and meaning to the environment we are exploring, the locations we get to inhabit. More than any other generation the combination of visuals, sound and atmosphere allow for videogames to take us anywhere, to places we can’t go. Mass Effect enables us to travel the galaxy and mingle with other species; L.A. Noire and Mafia II take us back to a time period long ago and incredibly different to our own today. Red Dead Redemption, finally, showed us what it was like to exist in a Western setting, enlightening us, indirectly, to how things were back then and how far humanity has come. But all of these settings, all of these locations that games allow us to visit -- both ‘real’ and fictional -- are static, mostly unchanging environments, only alive when our consoles are on and only existing to serve a story, mechanics or a particular intended experience. Rapture is, bless its soul, already in ruins when we get to see it, the levels built to convey the narrative and service the combat dynamics rather than to demonstrate how things can change, how characters and civilians alike can leave their mark or have an impact on the city or proceedings. If something changes it is because it was supposed to, a scripted moment to benefit or influence a particular facet of the overall experience. A good example of this is Mafia II’s transition from Winter to Spring: snow and blustery conditions give Empire Bay one kind of atmosphere (which, I might add, is quite charming) while the brighter, more positive aura of a warmer season gives the city another. What if this changed? What if Mother Nature’s ferocious but beautiful power -- if weather -- changed an environment or setting in a meaningful way? What if a tragedy in a virtual world could impact gameplay, the story, or the demeanor of a game’s characters in really interesting ways, changing our experience in the process and reinforcing our connection to that world and everything in it?

Just imagine if rain flooded Liberty City, and just what that could mean.

We’ve already seen how a thunderstorm in Red Dead Redemption or showers in Liberty City can change their respective games, even if it’s momentarily. It changes the atmosphere, makes driving (for example) harder because things are slippery, and breaks up the pace and alters the dynamics of our session. But what if Liberty City was flooded, its rivers overflowing and spilling onto the roads? What if the weather was so ubiquitous and ongoing that the streets were covered with water, buildings inundated and the result was a different city -- even if it did eventually recede -- than the one we’re already accustomed to? It would force us to reassess our approach to what we were doing or how we’d do it, and test our knowledge of the space we have inhabited for so long, making us find alternative routes or different means of travel. Furthermore, narratively, it could affect the people who we come to know, showing us sides of their personality we couldn’t see previously and how they would deal with such adversity. What if these quest-givers -- because, let’s face it, that’s all they really are -- couldn’t offer us things to do or tasks to perform because they simply had more important things to attend to? What if, god forbid, these characters -- some of whom we might actually have a connection to or relationship with -- died because they weren’t prepared for an excess of water to come and flood their houses, their home? What if, to go in a slightly different direction, Liberty City was hit by an earthquake, unexpectedly, because like the weather it was dynamic, unpredictable and unforeseen?

Such scenarios can pose many questions and, if done effectively, really impact upon a game world and the things inside it in meaningful ways. Part of the reason Heavy Rain resonated so much with me is because it used rain as a significant, serious part of its narrative -- something that hadn’t been done before. From a technical standpoint serious events and tragedies in games might be unrealistic to do, but surely there is incentive in trying if it can add weight to a world, make our connection to it as players more meaningful, and ultimately ensure that games as a whole can be as deep, emotional and affecting as products in other mediums? Mother Nature’s fury in real life is nothing more than a negative, unfortunate and unpredictable series of events, where loss is prevalent everywhere and the need to rebuild is essential. But in a virtual sense her wrath could be absolutely beautiful, especially if it engrosses us into our games more thoroughly than ever before. The result might not be pretty but it sure beats having yet another war be the justification for why all of our games are always... well, in ruins.

Space Invaders: BioShock's Rapture, Part Two

[Part of an ongoing series of posts exploring the way videogames use their spaces to convey their overall experience, ranging from design and dynamics to aesthetic and artistic appeal, and everything in between. Be warned, there are spoilers ahead.]

Yesterday, I took a look at the Welcome To Rapture level in BioShock to explain the ways in which it introduces us to its story, characters, gameplay and atmosphere. I discussed things like the subtle visual information the level contains -- such as the protest signs that lay on the floor when you first arrive in Rapture -- which enrich the experience and leaves the impression that this isn't just a level in a videogame, but a real place, one with a history, personality and culture that is now slowly meeting its demise. Every element that can be found in that level sets up the rest of the game superbly, and there are very few other opening levels in videogames which draw the player in as effectively as that one does. But it's not the only level in BioShock that uses its space in fascinating ways. A few of the other levels are really clever with the way they define Rapture as a fully-fledged city. Allow me to explain.

Aesthetic Ideals

An interesting thing to note is that each level provides an attraction to see or exemplifies a particular person's personality. Two in particular, the Medical Pavilion and Fort Frolic, stand out to me as really effective -- both in terms of how they flesh out Rapture as a whole as well as the ways in which they explicate the characters who essentially run the two places.

In the Medical Pavilion, Doctor Steinman is the prominent figure, and the level does what it needs to in order to ensure that the player knows this. As progress is made through the Medical Pavilion, we start to get the impression that Steinman -- a plastic surgeon specialising in rhinoplasty if posters on the walls are anything to go by -- has an obsession with perfection. Not necessarily in his craft but rather in his subjects and what he can achieve with them. Bound by no morals or fear of judgement from Rapture's fellow citizens, Steinman has the freedom to experiment, meaning that he has no shame in sculpting them until they are deformed to the point of no return, and it's quite common to come across his ex-patients dead on the floor of the Pavilion, surgical instruments still inserted into their bodies. Other artifacts such as framed photos showing "before" and "after" shots of patients; messages written in blood suggesting that the existence of Adam means there's no reason not to be beautiful; the frozen pipes and oil spills that remain unattended to; and the ramblings about precision and "surgical artistry" found in Steinman's many audio diaries all combine to convey the sense of an obsession that has gone too far, as well as the insanity that is derived from it. This obsession is most obvious when we eventually meet Steinman and find him working on a dead patient, with three others all hanging above him. As we watch he talks about how his patient doesn't stop moving and all he wants is for them to be beautiful, eventually ranting about how the three above him are too fat, full and symmetrical. After that he notices us, the player, and believes we are an intruder who is too ugly, engaging us in the mini-boss battle that ensues. You could argue that this moment is poignant, as we must fight and kill him just as his mentality has completely gone insane due to his obsession. Whatever way you look at it, it's an intriguing end to a character who we learn about through visual and aural clues found throughout the Medical Pavilion.

Fort Frolic is another level that superbly elaborates on its central character, Sander Cohen, through what we see and do within. A man of the theater, the eccentric, vain Cohen is obsessed with performance, and the level demonstrates this in a similar way to that of the Medical Pavilion. Interestingly, Fort Frolic is a hybrid level, catering to shopping enthusiasts as well as featuring a focus on the arts and entertainment. It is the latter that is Cohen's area of expertise, and we see his influence over the place the most in the Fleet Hall, which is situated in the middle of Fort Frolic. It's in here that we start learning about the man, his reluctance to meet us until he is ready suggesting he's not one to be seen in public unless it is under the right circumstances. Shortly thereafter, we watch as a pianist (splicer) called Fitzpatrick loses his mind due to constantly messing up the melody that Cohen is forcing him to play repeatedly, the objective that follows being to take a photo of his corpse and place it on 'Cohen's Masterpiece'. For the rest of the level, our goal is to track down Cohen's disciples, kill them and add their picture to the masterpiece in order to complete it. While doing this we learn more about him through what we hear in various audio diaries as well as what we see -- sculptures of Splicers in various poses; advertisements for his many shows; performance masks lying on the floor -- and, by the end of the level, we've got a clear idea of who Sander Cohen is, not just in terms of his personality but also his place within Rapture's community. *

It's a perception gained through the environment and our actions, and it's this detail that goes a long way in showing that Rapture isn't just about the ideals and motivations it was built on, but also the individuality and unique characteristics of its residents, providing insight into those whom we will meet later, as well as how they operate within Rapture's society. It's clever, effective and enforces the values that continue to define Rapture's walls.

The Sweat Of Our Brow

The levels discussed above are also interesting to think about from a design standpoint. The Medical Pavilion, for example, introduces us to the ways in which we interact with the Little Sisters, our choice to either save or harvest them defining our experience with the rest of the game. Shortly thereafter, the first Big Daddy that can actually be fought is seen stumbling around the level, Little Sister naturally in-toe. What's interesting to note is that the area in which you first meet him is relatively large, with multiple obstacles littered around the level to both help you once you've engaged him in battle (structures that slow his aggressive charges at you while also providing beneficial cover) as well as challenge you and your focus as you continually try to avoid his attacks and get the upper hand. The lack of confinement doesn't just make the initial fight potentially easier to prepare for, it also gets the player thinking about their approach to the fight -- a crucial component to future Big Daddy fights when added weapons and Plasmids allow for a variety of ways in which to engage the combat situation.

The Medical Pavilion also sees the player obtain their next couple of Plasmids, with oil spills and a tennis ball launcher allowing them to test their new-found Incinerate and Telekinesis abilities instantly after acquisition. But it's not just immediately that these Plasmids get used, either: access to the funeral parlour Twilight Fields is blocked by the aforementioned frozen pipes, requiring incineration before the small area is available to be explored, whilst a new form of enemy -- the Nitro Splicer -- throws grenades (and later the more effective Molotov Cocktails) as his main form of attack, Telekinesis providing the chance to catch them and throw them back for explosive, ironic damage. Combined with the Electro-Bolt Plasmid obtained in the Welcome To Rapture level, the player is slowly but surely introduced to the many varieties with which they can play the game, the Medical Pavilion's many locations ripe for experimentation. Throw in the introduction to hacking -- including security bots, vending machines and health stations -- and the level paves the way for the gameplay dynamics that will come in the future. The important thing is that these introductions are not overwhelming and go a long way in demonstrating what the player will be able to potentially do in the future, while also allowing them to play around and form their ideal playing style. It's subtle, but it's effective and continues the intrigue and compulsion for the player to continue as initiated by the opening level.

The remaining levels don't necessarily work to introduce the player to new gameplay elements or mechanics, but they are designed as a way to flesh out the perception that Rapture is a real place, once lived in by a civil society and now falling into chaos and ruins. It makes sense that there's a segregated yet accessible Medical Pavilion, complete with places for surgery, dental and even death; it makes sense that there's a garden-like level (Arcadia), providing a place for Rapture's people to be reminded of the simple pleasures of nature, as well as an attractive place to socialise; it makes sense that there's a shopping mall district (Fort Frolic), where the industry side of Rapture can combine with the creative, and where artists can mingle with consumers; and it makes sense that there would be a place specifically created for people to live in (the upper class apartments of Olympus Heights, as well as the lower and middle class residential areas of Apollo Square), or for people to work in (the industrial complex that is Hephaestus). It all adds up to suggest, indirectly, that Rapture isn't just a city full of people conditioned towards a certain mindset or particular ideals, but that it is also a fully-functioning city as efficient and productive as any of the ones you will find on land.

Whether these inclusions are necessary in terms of how BioShock plays is irrelevant; they exist as a means of creating a space, one that doesn't just project an atmosphere and personality onto the player, but one that is interesting to explore, has a history that's easy to relate to or understand, and one whose existence is entirely possible to believe, should the player allow their suspension of disbelief to accommodate Rapture's many pleasures. The end result, in my view, is a videogame place like no other, one that was at once dreadful and delightful, and one that was unlike anything else I had ever seen before.

The attention now turns to BioShock 2, and while I am interested in the improvements the sequel will no doubt bring, my anticipation and excitement isn't necessarily for the gameplay or exposition of the story, but rather the mere fact that I get to return to Rapture and see more of it. I couldn't ask for anything more, really, as it is exactly the kind of utopia that I'd want to visit -- it's up to you whether you deem it as paradise, or as perdition.

*We also learn a little more about Cohen in another level later on in the game, giving BioShock even more cohesion that's subtle but effective.

Space Invaders: BioShock's Rapture, Part One

[Part of an ongoing series of posts exploring the way videogames use their spaces to convey their overall experience, ranging from design and dynamics to aesthetic and artistic appeal, and everything in between. Be warned, there are spoilers ahead.]

When I last wrote about it, I referred to BioShock as a tour of Rapture: a game whose overall experience shows a dying city, each location illustrating a history, sense of community and utter insanity, as well as hints towards what used to be a once prosperous place, one which thrived until political and social turmoil caused chaos amongst its citizens -- the remnants of the past clearly obvious amongst the destruction and violence that seeps throughout the underwater tunnels now. That was then. Now, just before the release of the sequel, I have played through BioShock again as a way to reflect upon the game with the Vintage Game Club.

My description of Rapture above highlights what I believe to be BioShock's best character. The game wouldn't be anywhere near as good as it is if it weren't for the incredible attention to detail, design and personality that emanates from Rapture's foundations. Andrew Ryan, Fontaine and Doctor Tenenbaum may all seem like they are the key characters of the game -- and plot wise, they are -- but my interest in them doesn't come out of respect for who they are or what they might represent, but rather the parts they played in the creation, history and personality of Rapture. Their influence over the underwater city, as well as many other people, can be seen all over and its this ubiquitous presence that not only defines Rapture, but allows the player to be immersed in its atmosphere and gives them the sense that this is -- or was -- a living, breathing city that is as real as any of the ones you might find up on land. It's this overall perception of Rapture that fascinated me the most and is undoubtedly one of, if not the, main reasons why I love BioShock so much. Allow me to elaborate by using the opening level in the game as an example.

Welcome To Rapture

Bias towards the game aside, the opening level of BioShock has to be one of the best out there, doing everything it needs to in order to set a tone, atmosphere and fictional setting that compels us to continue. From the opening discovery of the bathysphere to the onslaught of Splicers at the end, the entire chapter not only communicates the information crucial to our experience, but demonstrates everything the player needs to know about BioShock's gameplay, the city of Rapture, the central characters within, and how to deal with the deranged Splicers. Not only does it do this with confidence and respect, it also nails the atmosphere that permeates the entire game, enticing you with its unique personality and instilling feelings of isolation, fear, wonder, and amazement at what is being seen. Throughout the entire chapter you are uncomfortable with your surroundings, experimenting with what you find whilst wondering just exactly what it all means -- exactly the kind of reaction to this weird, surreal place that you would expect anyone foreign to Rapture to have as they familiarize themselves with this unbelievable place. It's visceral, in a remarkably beautiful way, and it immerses you into the game like few others manage to achieve. It's also cohesive, which I believe is crucial to its success.

Right from the get go the game hooks you in, the "Would You Kindly?" phrase whose deceit we'd later discover clearly visible on the note that comes with the 'package' from Jack's parents. The plane's tail slowly sinks into the murky depths below, re-appearing a little later when we walk through Rapture's many tunnels. We learn about the political ideals that guide Rapture's civilization, propaganda banners serving as constant reminders -- but we also see the revolt against this, abandoned protest signs suggesting to us the turmoil that led to the chaos and destruction we now get to explore. We see signs of commercialism with the posters on the walls, the dollars we find and the neon signs we can see outside Rapture's many windows. The sea itself gives off the illusion of being distant, but water seeping in and leaking through cracks in the glass remind us of the reality that this is a city built under water, flooding and ruins only a moment away if the buildings we're in start to give way. Life and death is everywhere, the fish outside passing by as another body is found on the ground, blood everywhere and his/her belongings spread out across the floor. Elements of humanity contrast with insanity: the relationship between the Big Daddies and their Little Sisters highlighting the importance of companionship while deranged splicers are controlled by a mind that has lost its way. We're guided by Atlas, his articulate Irish charm explaining our surroundings as we progress, calming our anxiety and helping us through this uncomfortable environment. We learn about Andrew Ryan, influenced to believe he is our antagonist through what we're told and shown, our impression of him reinforced when Ryan himself speaks to us, questioning our presence in his domain and accusing us of being spies for the CIA or KGB -- he isn't sure yet.

Within this chapter are so many subtle moments that not only setup the game, but the whole experience: the mechanics we'll be using to interact with and explore Rapture; the prominent rivalry between Ryan and Fontaine, our own presence causing concern for the former whilst the latter secretly controls our every move; the personality the place once had demonstrated by things like the New Years Eve party that was held in the Kashmir restaurant, the billboards advertising products and events on the walls, and the artifacts (left-over bottles of wine, cat food, luggage strewn across the floor) showing the consequences of a once civilised city; the history of the political rivalry as well as the ideals and desires that formed the foundations of Rapture's signature; and the reality that the destruction of this city doesn't just leave it in ruins, it leaves it as a memory: the beautiful waters outside flooding the once prosperous society.

It's a remarkably powerful opening and really lays down the foundations of what the rest of the game's experience will be. This introduction alone is enough to make Rapture as a whole compelling to explore and really intriguing, but it's not the only element to do this, either. Tomorrow, I'll elaborate on the other areas of Rapture that define its society, as well as our tour throughout.

For a similar but different perspective on Rapture's opening chapter, I suggest you read Michael Abbott's take.

Similar Experiences

GTPod is not the only one experiencing what he deemed the Pre-Order Blues at the moment.

As he alluded to, a lot of people are going through it at the moment and yes, I am one of them. I certainly don't get the 'condition' to the extent that others do, but I do get it and my gaming habits change considerably right up until the release of the game in question that I'm anticipating at the time. At the moment it is Grand Theft Auto IV, but in the past it has been big titles like BioShock and smaller titles like Test Drive Unlimited and Shadow of the Colossus.

I can't explain why I, or even we, experience such a thing but it's there and it definitely happens. Naturally it depends on the game in question, a gamer's taste in titles and things like that but on a simple term if you are a gamer than you have probably experienced it at some point.

Personally, my experience of it consists of lack of enjoyment of my other games. I still play them and I still try to make the most out of these games and enjoy them, but my mood while playing is certainly different to what it would normally be. The games I play aren't as compelling as they normally would be, my attention span wanes rather quickly and the only game I can think about is the one that is upcoming. I also seem to have hassles with choosing a game to play and I think that comes from a sense of disinterest; a distaste (if you will) of content from games that I already know about and what to expect while at the same time maintaining a desire to get my hands on and experience the new, not to mention the unexpected.

So why do gamers go through this stage with some games and not others? Is it simply because of the hype surrounding a particular game and the excitement as the release date draws near? Or is it because we as gamers have our preferences and anticipate these particular games because that's what we love and cherish the most? Or is it both?

Perhaps it's none of the above and perhaps it's a different reason altogether. I know it is certainly something I'd like to explore in the future but right now my mind is rather incoherent because it is absolutely flooded with thoughts and excitement about GTA IV. It's only three days away and damn it, I cannot wait to lose myself within the guilty pleasures of Liberty City.

Revisiting Rapture

I recently revisited the ever so beautiful Rapture as I played through BioShock for the second time, this time playing on Hard as I tried to obtain the last two achievements I needed from the game. When I first started the playthrough, I wasn't expecting to do anything in the game other than do what was necessary to obtain the achievements, but it wasn't long before I was completely hooked on Rapture again.

Now some may question why one would get hooked on a game's location after having already seen it once before and in some cases, their questioning of it would be completely justified. But Rapture is different; it's not just a location formed to assist a gameplay mechanic, storyline or to show off the graphics. It is infact all of these and yet, that's not the reason Rapture draws you in. It draws you in because it isn't just a game location. No, instead it's absolutely real. When you're playing BioShock, you are IN Rapture.

Sounds ridiculous doesn't it? How can something you see and hear on a TV screen feel real when it's just a bunch of pixels? Well, I honestly don't think there is any other way to describe just how much Rapture (and therefore BioShock) draws you in while playing.

The attention to detail in the game is amazing. It can be something as big as seeing buildings of the city outside as you look through the windows, or it can be something subtle like a small stream of water running down the wall because of a crack in the ceiling. It doesn't matter what it is, everything as a cohesive whole draws you into the city of Rapture and there really is no other place you would want to be while playing the game. Every room, hell, every corner of every room seems to tell a different story which only further draws you in. You are, after all, seeing Rapture dying. There may be blood stains on the floor potentially suggesting that someone had died there. There may be water coming through a hole in the window, suggesting that a fight may have taken place nearby. Or there may be something as simple as food and drink on a table suggesting that people had recently dined there.

As I said before, it doesn't matter what it is, everything combines to draw you in the world and it absolutely works. It is also one of the reasons I love BioShock so much. It is easily one of the most atmospheric and immersive games I have played. When you consider that I have played some great atmospheric titles like Metroid Prime, Silent Hill and Condemned - that's saying a lot. I won't deny it, I was biased towards the game before it even released (the whole underwater city thing was just too cool for me to pass up on) but luckily for me when I finally got to experience the brilliance that is BioShock, I was presented with a game that wasn't just that, a game. It was more than that, it was an experience first and foremost and secondly it was a tour. A tour through a dying city that had a history. A history that was interesting, compelling and most of all obvious. Obvious in the sense that, well, people lived there. Some still do, but it was once a city like New York or Sydney and now it's turning into ruins. A memory. History and nothing more.

The fate is sad, actually. Perhaps not as sad as some of the events that occurred to particular residents of Rapture, but sad all the same. The game was touted for having the moral choice (do I save or harvest the little child, otherwise known as the Little Sister?) of good and bad, but to me the game shone through a different light. Or should that be plight? The plight of Rapture and its denizens. To me, seeing a city of such strength falling into nothing was more involving, immersive and important than any amount of ADAM could ever have been.

What I'm Playing

I originally intended the What I'm Playing entries to be weekly, detailing what I was playing for that week and also offering thoughts on a few things. Obviously, it hasn't been a weekly entry and I apologise for that, but I do still intend on keeping it a regular thing and here's hoping I can find a way to balance my time so that it can be a regular piece.

Anyway, this week I have been playing the following:

Burnout Paradise

Picked this up on Friday night and according to the in-game timer, have already played it for over 25 hours. See what I mean about time getting away from me easily?
Anyway, I have been playing it so much because it's just so damn awesome. Whether it is doing the races, Road Rages, Marked Man challenges or Stunt Runs; Or whether it is mucking around online with friends, Paradise is an absolute blast to play and I look forward to playing it some more in this coming week.

Mass Effect

I have returned to this game after a short break, this time playing through it for the second time. I decided to re-use my character from the first run although this time I'm being a bit more of an arsehole while I go for the Renegade achievement. I'm also going to try some other options in the game but I won't detail them here to save for spoilers. It's still a brilliant game though and it actually feels weird seeing different things happen in the game knowing that it was different the first time.

Undertow

I finished this in Co-Op with my friend a few weeks ago but I am still playing this gradually because I am an achievement whore and only need one achievement to 200/200 the game. The final achievement is 10,000 kills although thankfully it is nowhere near as hard as the 10,000 kills achievement (Seriously...) from Gears of War. I won't be dedicating 8 months of my gaming life to Undertow, put it that way.

Forza 2

I will always be playing this. At least, until either Forza 3 releases or I get a PS3 and Gran Turismo 5. I'm still setting various lap times for various reasons and I am also still playing it online every now and then. I just recently purchased some Microsoft Points too, so next time I fire up the game I will be buying the two DLC tracks - Motegi and Road America - and setting lap times on those as well.

Rez HD

As I mentioned above, I picked up some MS Points recently and there is just no way in hell I was going to pass up on the opportunity to finally play this game. I have been wanting to do so ever since learning about original version and I now finally have the chance to experience it for myself. Awesome times ahead!

In other news, I just recently finished my second play through of BioShock and despite having finished it once, I was still blown away by just how real Rapture feels and how immersive the game is. So expect a post on that (I suppose it was only a matter of time considering this blog is inspired by the game...) in the near future. You can also expect one on Mass Effect, Burnout Paradise and possibly even Rez.

And those are just the posts on particular games...

Welcome to Raptured Reality

Ahoy and welcome to Raptured Reality, a blog created as a place for me to rant about various things.

If anyone actually ends up reading this (ha, yeah right) then I guess you should know that this blog will be mainly focused on gaming, music, TV shows, Motorsport, Cars and anything else I happen to be interested in.

If you happen to be a gamer, then the influence for this blog may be obvious to you. If it's not, the influence comes from what is easily my favourite game of 2007, BioShock. Rapture is the underwater city in the game and I added reality because I thought it sounded decent enough. I could be a smart arse and say that the 'reality' part comes from just how real Rapture (and as an extension - BioShock) feels while you play. But it doesn't really matter at the end of the day does it?

Ever since playing the game, I have been calling myself "Mr. Bubbles" which is also from the game. The Little Sisters refer to the Big Daddies that help them as "Mr. Bubbles" sometimes and that's why I'm using it as an alias (if you will) here as well. I'm not the only one who calls me by the name though; My girlfriend does as well. But let's not get into that. ;)

Well yeah anyway, this place will be used for rants on games, cars, music - whatever I feel like at the time. If people end up reading it (and regularly), great, but if they don't I won't mind too much as long as I get to rant somewhere.