Metroid Marathon: The Beauty Of Bosses (MP1)

[Part of a series of posts in which I discuss my favourite videogame franchise: Metroid. Today, some of Metroid Prime's bosses and how they are designed to teach players through intensity and strategy.]

The boss battles contained in each Metroid game are one of the franchise’s staples, their challenging but not impossible design sitting as some of the highlights of each installment. Metroid Prime’s bosses are no different and follow the tradition of offering some intensity to the isolated adventures of Samus Aran, not to mention ensuring that the skills learned prior to each battle and the abilities obtained throughout the game are utilized in an effective manner.

Combining organic creatures already native to Tallon IV and those created or influenced by the strong presence of the Space Pirates and their operations, the boss battles in Metroid Prime contrast nicely with the otherwise lonely journey of the game to create its diversity whilst simultaneously also appearing to enhance the game’s narrative, themes and overall outcome. Ranging from mutated (not to mention enlarged) creatures such as the Parasite Queen found on the space frigate Orpheon, to the giant, lumbering beast that is the Omega Space Pirate, each battle and each foe offers something new and distinct from what has been seen previously whilst also continuing the trend of more difficult and menacing foes as the player (and thus, Samus) progresses. What this means overall is three different things: first, the chance to test and master the skills that have been formed over the course of the game; second, moments to look forward to after long sessions of exploration and loneliness; and lastly, a change of pace (and intensity) after slow, gradual progress and enemies that pose little to no problems. It’s about challenge and strategy but not at the expense of progress or the other key elements that make up a Metroid experience, namely the exploration and discovery.

Interesting, too, is the way in which these battles take place -- and, perhaps more importantly, why. Right from the very beginning of the game, as players gently ease themselves into the 3D, foreign feel of a Metroid title viewed from Samus’ own eyes rather than from a side-on perspective, a boss battle exists, designed to teach a skill that will become key later on in the game: that of strafing from left to right (or vice versa) to avoid enemy fire. The battle is simple in that there’s hardly any strategy to defeating the Parasite Queen, with quick, rapid blasts or powered up singular shots from Samus’ beam cannon making quick work of the easy opponent. In fact, the only challenge the battle poses is from a spinning force field that protects the queen, but it has enough holes in it that it’s not a problem -- if there’s no gap, you don’t shoot, simple.

Samus staring Flaahgra down in the first major boss battle of Metroid Prime.

Contrast that with Flaahgra -- the mutated plant boss found in the Chozo Ruins and the source of the poisoned water that posed a small problem in traversing the remnants of a lost civilization -- who does offer a challenge and requires some strategy in order to attack. Not only is strafing important in avoiding Flaahgra’s acid attacks, confidence with locking onto the solar panels that is providing sustenance to the enlarged plant is key to efficient success as, later on in the battle, Flaahgra can knock them back down with one of its many stems. The goal of the fight is to knock the solar panels away so the sun’s rays are no longer providing energy to the plant boss, causing it to collapse with exhaustion and its tentacles to retract, allowing Samus to quickly morph into a ball so she can slip through the tunnels that were previously blocked and let off a morph ball bomb in the mechanical slot -- a technique learned prior to the battle not long after the ability was acquired -- in order to deal damage. Rinse and repeat the process -- a staple of Nintendo’s library of games and certainly not exclusive to the Metroid series -- and before long Flaahgra is down, alleviating the problems of a contaminated area by allowing the water supply of the Chozo Ruins to become clean and pure once more.

Future bosses provide even more complexity and challenge, the Omega Pirate and Metroid Prime itself standing out as the game’s most difficult boss fights, but regardless of whether it’s at the start of the game or at its end, the bosses in Metroid Prime serve a purpose in teaching, using (abilities) and changing (the game's pacing), even if only for a short period of time. They’re fun distractions more than anything else, but the lessons learned in fighting these monsters go on to serve the rest of the game, and in doing so only enhances the experience rather than hinders it. It’s a shame other games can’t get this process right more often, not to mention as elegantly as Metroid Prime does.

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.

Metroid Marathon: Metroid Prime's Magic Moments

[Part of a series of posts in which I discuss my favourite videogame franchise: Metroid. Today, a look at three moments in Metroid Prime that I believe are pivotal for why it went on to become my most cherished game. ]

One of my favourite things about Metroid Prime is how three particular moments define my personal experience with the game, and demonstrate why I believe the game went on to become so revered. These moments are small in comparison to the majority of the game, but they stand out because of their clever use of subtlety and implied storytelling; their demonstration of just how successful the transition from 2D to 3D actually was; and because of the way in which they compel you to keep on playing through the allure of exploration and discovery. They represent my fondest memories from the game and below I detail why.

Space Frigate Orpheon

As you may have gathered from my previous post, I found the opening segment of Metroid Prime to be quite amazing -- not necessarily for what it does or what it shows (though that is impressive), but because of how quickly it put you into its unique take on the Metroid universe, and how suddenly it allowed you to assume the role of Samus Aran. Practically immediately you enter that first-person perspective and see the world how she sees it, and this small but significant fact is why I think the game begins so well: it doesn’t waste time with exposition or trying to set up the differences between a 3D Metroid and the prior 2D ones but, rather, it puts you in Samus’ shoes so she (and therefore you) can resume her adventure. After all, this is Samus Aran: she doesn’t have the time to waste on easing players into her life or explaining why things continue to go awry; she’s on a mission to do her job as a bounty hunter and it’s up to us to engage with that fact, not the other way around. The whole reason she’s even on Orpheon to begin with is to investigate a distress call, not walk us through some tutorials and demonstrate how the rest of the game will play.

But that’s the beauty of this entire level, too: it does teach us how to play in what is, essentially, intuitively designed tutorials, but we wouldn’t ever know it because as soon as we gain control, we have inhabited the role of Samus Aran. Right from the get go we can move our (emphasis required -- Metroid Prime is a shared experience between Samus and the player) visor around to survey our surroundings, our reward for doing so being the large and beautiful Tallon IV that looms in the distance; a nice close-up of Samus’ gunship if we turn around; and asteroids gently hovering past just begging to be used as target practice. A quick couple of shots from the beam cannon reveals the level of detail we can soon expect to be the norm as they break apart, how efficiently our shots can dispatch whatever we line up in our sights, and how pleasing and simple it is to use our primary weapon. Switch over to the scan visor and we notice the distinct red and orange of objects that can be scanned, the boldness of the former suggesting important points of interest whilst the latter gives us information that might be relevant to our interests and/or objective. Like shooting, scanning is also basic and accessible, and it isn’t long before the force field gates standing in our way -- the first, proper hint at a tutorial -- are dealt with, allowing passage to the only door that provides entrance into the frigate.

Space frigate Orpheon with Tallon IV looming in the background.

All of these things are incredibly small compared to the rest of the game and, indeed, even the opening level -- we haven’t even gotten inside Orpheon, after all -- but they’re significant because of what they do to begin the experience. Straight away we learn about our main methods of engaging with the game, through clever but minor obstacles and subtle cues that entice rather than enforce, and almost instantly we are eased into the adventures ahead and our role as Samus Aran. But while these aspects of the opening segment are for the player’s benefit, we also see Samus approaching these unknown surroundings in the only way that she can: agility and acrobatics as she jumps from her ship and lands on the Orpheon; instant investigation as she scans her environment and starts to discover what is going on; and confidence as she moves past those simple gates, shoots a few asteroids and enters the frigate. She may be alone for most of her journey but within seconds of arriving she has already displayed why she is so effective at her job, and why she has as much respect as she does: put simply, she gets the job done, but does so in a way where she’s the most informed and where she can have the best approach -- nothing more, nothing less.

Tallon IV Overworld

Changing pace from the impressive beginning of the game, landing on Tallon IV for the first time stands out for its beauty, as well as the way in which it sets the tone of the adventure. Metroid Prime is organic, its environments coming across as alien but entirely natural at the same time, and our first visit to the Overworld is, perhaps, the best example of this. Flora dominates the landscape, the Red Starburst and Glowing Spidervine capturing particular attention thanks to their bright and (in the case of the Spidervine) luminescent appearance. There’s also a quaint waterfall and small pond in the vicinity, the latter of which is lined with another type of plant unique to the planet: the Tallon Fern. Combine such gorgeous foliage with the rain that saturates the landscape and beads down the sides of Samus’ beam cannon, and you have an arresting environment that is absolutely foreign and yet, at the same time, totally comforting to us (both as players and as Samus), too, given how natural it all looks. It looks like a wet jungle, feels like a rainforest and lends the game an atmosphere that is not only completely different to what was found on the Orpheon, but is much more relaxing and utterly awe-inspiring. In some ways, it’s even a poignant moment: a chance to catch a breath, take in the view, and contemplate before continuing the adventure -- how many other games offer such opportunities (and so early, too) to their players?

Tallon Ferns in front of a very prominent waterfall.

The wonderful thing about this particular moment, however, is how captivating it is upon reflection. It might be engrossing each and every time you experience it, but even more beautiful is how it stands out in the memory and defines your connection to the game. Its organic nature and relaxed atmosphere correlates with some of Metroid Prime’s core qualities: the ability to inhabit and explore new environments, and to do so at our own pace, not a predetermined one. Its immersion at its finest, then, and something that only increases as you progress and discover the intriguing fauna of the Tallon IV Overworld region, and what they add (and mean) to the planet.

Phendrana Drifts

No post about Metroid Prime’s most significant moments would be complete without a mention of the Phendrana Drifts and, in particular, the first time you get to see them. Many players highlight this moment as one of those true ‘gaming moments’ that seldom appear but always resonate, and I’m not one to disagree: it is one incredible moment -- most certainly my favourite -- and it stands out because of how perfect it really is. Everything about entering the Phendrana Drifts region for the first time is amazing, because of how cohesive it all is. The beautiful snow glistens under the sunlight whilst those gentle piano keys of the level’s wonderful theme tune begin to play. The camera slowly pans out away from Samus to reveal a relatively large room, full of new things to see. Obviously, a snowy area is a complete change from all of the levels that had been experienced thus far -- especially the fiery depths of Magmoor Caverns -- but, more than that, what is visible in these initial moments goes a long way in setting up the region as a whole. Standing tall in front of us are some rocky pillars, a small river winding through them. Atop a cliff reside some destroyed buildings, clearly of Chozo origin considering we have already visited the Chozo Ruins and learned that they once inhabited Tallon IV. Scattering about in the sky, hastily, are some bird-like creatures, whilst over on some ledges we can see some small life-forms crawling about -- new species that we haven’t seen before, and which continue to define and add personality to the planet as a whole. An icy lake also exists here, small fish scurrying around proving to be yet another example of the level of detail that can be found in the game.

Screens don't do it justice; this place is stunning.

By now we’re fairly experienced with playing Metroid Prime and certainly familiar with how to advance, what our objectives are, and how to approach whatever lies before us. This means that the Phendrana ‘moment’ doesn’t last long as we are quick to resume our adventure, but even so that doesn’t take away from its incredible impact -- it is this moment that defines the entire game, for me, and exemplifies why Metroid Prime as a whole is so remarkable and unique: it’s atmospheric thanks to the strong cohesion visually and aurally; it instills a sense of loneliness and even mild melancholy because of the minimal life, ruined structures and subdued tone; and despite the moment stopping us in our tracks, momentarily, it becomes nothing more than a memory as we quickly continue on our journey. Metroid Prime as a game is renowned for its atmosphere, isolation and discipline, and despite being quite a breathtaking, mesmerizing scene, we soon ignore the beauty to focus on the task at hand. Like a holiday snap on vacation it recalls a moment in time that was delightful, but as soon as you look away the impact is gone and things return to normal.

Proof, then, that small things can be just as important as their larger counterparts, if not more so, and that the execution of a moment requires incredible attention to detail. Speaking of which, detail is the subject of my next post, with specific emphasis on the little things that make this game such a delight to play.

Metroid Marathon: Remembering Metroid Prime

[Part of a series of posts in which I discuss my favourite videogame franchise: Metroid. Today, recounting my initial experience with Metroid Prime, a title that went on to become my most cherished game.]

Do you remember the first time you played Metroid Prime? I do.

Seeing Samus' Sci-Fi epic begin was an amazing moment, her 3D adventure leaving me in absolute awe as I first stepped into her shoes, but not before a marvelous display of her agility as she leapt from her gunship and onto the opening area: the abandoned space frigate Orpheon. Here to investigate a distress signal, assuming control of her was remarkably relaxing. The planet Tallon IV loomed in the distance, its rich blues and bright yellows standing out from an otherwise derelict, almost ruined frigate. Floating above were small chunks of space debris -- asteroids slowly making their way past, a carefully timed shot from Samus' beam cannon breaking them apart, revealing a neat example of the detail that would later be found throughout the game.

Entering the space frigate was eerie, the initially narrow hallways instilling a sense of claustrophobia (exacerbated by the uncertainty of what was to come next -- particularly for someone completely new to the Metroid franchise) that hadn't been felt in any other game prior. Discovering the first signs of disaster was chilling: a carcass of a test specimen lied uncomfortably across the floor, small parasites chewing at its lifeless hide. Scanning the environment revealed that Orpheon's escape pods had all been discharged, their destination somewhere on the planet below, whilst space pirate bodies were strewn across the room, their cause of death varying from the severing of a spinal cord to traumatic blows to the head. Farther into the frigate's desolate ruins was yet another room with a story to tell, this time containing another example of the specimen found before, safely in a state of hibernation, while helpless space pirates attempted to attack. Their last-ditch efforts seeming almost sad as we swiftly put them out of their misery.

Omnipresent humming sounds and sudden explosions as Orpheon's panels started to collapse ensured an atmosphere that was haunting, our isolation as we continued forward causing brief, poignant moments of hesitation yet interminable curiosity as we discovered yet another piece of information about what may have taken place here. The ship's computer systems provide some facts, an experiment with a substance called Phazon and some of Tallon IV's native life appearing to have played a part in the ship's devastation, while pirate logs reveal a hasty retreat, a reaction to the fall of the planet Zebes, and a fear about the possibility that "The Hunter" (clearly Samus Aran) may be following.

Metroid Prime's first boss may be easy, but that doesn't mean she isn't creepy.

Deeper into the frigate, yet more space pirate bodies and debris lay strewn across the barren floors, our wits tested once again as the ship's defense system, some mounted ceiling turrets, attack on sight. After a short elevator ride a cheeky space pirate drops from the ceiling, his attempt to unnerve us with his sudden appearance failing as a few shots lay the final blows to his fragile body. Then we find her, the Parasite Queen, crawling out of a duct and into the ship's reactor. Protected by shields she begins her attack, though the spaces in her defenses provide an easy way for us to fight back, her timely death causing her to fall into the reactor's core, initiating the ship's self-destruct sequence.

The following escape is intense, the frigate's structure collapsing as we run through its ventilation shafts and tunnels. More defense turrets attempt to impede our progress, but a quick scan of their control panels deactivates them and allows us to continue on our way. Farther along we find Meta-Ridley, a cybernetically enhanced and reborn Ridley after his defeat on Zebes, his fleeing an incentive to follow. Tracking his flight pattern, Samus escapes Orpheon and lands on Tallon IV, its heavy rain providing a distinctive change of atmosphere as we look around and see the lush but alien plant life. Attention to detail is rife here, as exploration and scanning starts to peel back the layers of the planet's ecosystem, its flora and fauna's appearance proving to be surprisingly compelling. Raindrops fall gently onto Samus' visor, an impressive technical feat back then, whilst mist hovers above a small pond. Everywhere you look there are neat little details that immediately make Tallon IV a captivating place, and they definitely make for a wondrous change of pace after the creepy, confined spaces of the now destroyed Orpheon. Instantly, a sense of adventure is instilled inside of me as I search my surroundings and learn, along with Samus, just what this foreign planet has in store for me. Preparing for the unknown, I take a moment to take in the beauty before firing off a shot at the nearest door and continuing on with my... no, our adventure.

All of the above happens in the first hour or so of Metroid Prime and, when compared to the rest of the game, it seems almost insignificant. But despite this, I thought it was worth reflecting on these initial moments, recalling the time I (and perhaps you) first experienced what Metroid was like in three dimensions, and when the game's atmosphere, mechanics and wonderfully alien art direction were revealed for the first time. Like Mario and Link's before it, Samus' transition to 3D was a special one, and it is an experience that will stick inside my memory forever. But it's not the only fond memory I have of this game; there are plenty more moments that deserve some attention, too, and I'll discuss those in my next post.

Preview Power: Donkey Kong Country Returns

[Part of a series of smaller posts that I'll be doing about various upcoming games. I don't jump on board the hype train too often, but when I do I like to think that there's a pretty significant reason for why, and in this series I will attempt to explain my anticipation for each game.]

Donkey Kong Country Returns. Bit of a silly name isn’t it? Yet it is also a name that breeds immense excitement and anticipation in someone like me, a guy who grew up playing the very franchise it hopes to revitalise. So while the series returning might sound silly, the arrival should be one of sheer pleasure as I reacquaint myself with the dopey but adorable monkey and his companions.

But to understand why I’m so excited for this new installment, first we must reflect back on its predecessors to find out why this rebirth is such an enticing prospect.

I love the Donkey Kong Country franchise for a multitude of reasons -- some of which I will perhaps explore in the not too distant future -- but the biggest one is also an industry staple: the games were just fun. While maintaining the familiar platforming formula of that era, Donkey Kong Country and its two sequels went above and beyond the norm to create a charming personality of its own and a style that was exhibited by everything ranging from its music to its characters to its level design. A good portion of this can be attributed to Rare (then known as Rareware) as their injection of charm and wit into the games plus their demonstration of technical proficiency and expertise allowed the three games to captivate audiences everywhere. Donkey’s foolish, almost Homer Simpson-esque approach to his banana collection ensured that the Kremlings’ continuous thievery of it was inevitable; Dixie’s elegant but forceful approach when she was enlisted to the Kremling fight ensured that things got done as required. The characters might be basic and they may be archetypical to a degree, but the variety demonstrated and the simplicity with which this was achieved guaranteed a series of games that were familiar but always changing. Throw in the incredible levels and the diversity they showed and it made for three games that kept you on your toes but teased you into confidence as you tapped into your repertoire of skills.

The games were good, then, and were enhanced even more by their timeless art directions and marvelous soundtracks. This alone is enough to make Donkey Kong Country Returns a must-have; another strong motivating factor is the people creating it.

Retro Studios are, in my opinion, one of the best developers in the industry today, and while their reputation for quality has been formed on one series of games alone, there’s just no denying the level of care, attention to detail and effort they put into their games. Like the series or not, I think it’s fair to say that Metroid Prime is one of the best games of all time, if not the best Metroid game, while its two sequels -- despite not reaching the same lofty heights as the original -- also exuded a quality that few other games can match. Now I won’t deny that I’m a Metroid fanboy. I’ve stated this a few times on the blog and countless times elsewhere, and I’ll continue to shout that franchise’s brilliance from the rooftops for as long as my voice will allow. But it was Retro who created that passion in the first place so the respect they have from me isn’t just strong, it’s inexplicable. Put simply, anything they make will have my interest; the fact they are making a game in a franchise that I hold dear to my heart is just mind-blowing. For years I have wanted what is essentially Donkey Kong Country 4. I didn’t care what system it was on, what time it came out or which characters it was based around, all I wanted was another installment in the franchise with new levels and challenges for me to see. For years that didn’t happen, and with each passing year and platform I was slowly coming to the realisation that my desires were to be unmet and that the franchise as a whole -- if not the characters too -- were to be left in the past, forgotten. Then suddenly, at this year’s E3 conference, a new one was announced and by the studio that didn’t just create one of my favourite games of all time but also a passion that I didn’t know existed. How can that not be incredibly exciting for someone like me?

As you can probably tell I just can’t explain how much it pleases me to know that later this week, finally, I will be playing a new Donkey Kong Country. My approach to the new game might be extremely enthusiastic but my confidence in Retro is justified. The reviews already confirm it; their talent ensures it.

Weapon Overload

Like it or not, guns are a significant part of the medium of videogames, as are other weapons like swords and hammers. As a result, fighting, combat and gunplay are also prevalent, allowing anyone and everyone the ability to enact violence and experience gore in the comfort of their own home. It has already been discussed at length as to whether this is a good thing or not, and whether such content in games has a strong impact on those who play them, but that’s not the issue I’m concerned with here. Instead, I’m concerned by the glorification and general “killing is cool” ideology that exists as a result of the oversaturated genre of first-person shooters, as well as brawlers and any other game that uses combat in any shape or form as a main mechanic. Allow me to explain.

Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while may remember that earlier in the year, I was playing through Yakuza on the PS2. I firmly intended to play it in its entirety, to see what kind of story the game would tell me, whether I’d be interested in the cultural elements it portrays, and the way it used Tokyo as its game space. At first, I found the game to be quite compelling, the story piquing my interest for a variety of reasons while exploring Tokyo was also great fun. I was even surprised by the accessibility and complexity of the combat, enjoying the fisticuff fighting a lot more than I expected. But that enjoyment didn’t last long and, once I realised that practically all I was doing in the game was fighting over and over again, I quickly found myself exhausted by the constant combat and disappointed each and every time a new fight began. The game is a brawler to be sure, but from what I had heard and saw it seemed like so much more than that. Of course, being a game focused on the Yakuza you expect violence to play an integral part, but I also expected a lot more given the emphasis on detail and atmosphere, not to mention the game’s generally positive reception both in Japan and abroad. The combat itself was fine -- as I said, I actually found it to be quite enjoyable -- but the repetition of each fight and the frequency with which they occurred -- it felt like every thirty seconds or so I was in a new one, the notion of simply walking down the street taking far longer than I believed it should -- grated, and the end result is an unfinished game that I am reluctant to return to because I know what awaits.

This combat fatigue isn’t Yakuza’s fault, necessarily; the fact that nearly every single game I play features combat of some sort -- be it by using weapons or shooting various guns -- has culminated in an exhaustion that I don’t think I can recover from any time soon. I mean, it’s obvious when you play a first-person shooter that you will be shooting things the majority of the time, but when it exists in my open-world games (Red Dead Redemption; GTA IV), my narrative focused games (Alan Wake; Heavy Rain) and even games centralized around Parkour (Mirror’s Edge; even Assassin’s Creed), you know there is something wrong. Why is the industry so obsessed with shooting, fighting and with violence? Why must games that have nothing to do with murder or melee contain weapons or the ability to inflict pain upon those you come across in your travels? Why does a game about Parkour even have useable guns in the first place?

It seems silly but really, it’s not surprising. Shooting things (particularly in the face) is fun, as is the ability to punch someone with a brute force that we just can’t imagine in the reality of our own lives. The violence we get to inflict upon our foes or even friends (in the case of multiplayer) -- sadistic or otherwise -- is extremely satisfying, and more importantly, it’s empowering. Part of the appeal of playing games is the fact that they can take us to places we can’t visit in real life, and allow us to do activities that are either impossible or unlikely. When faced against insurmountable odds, a few button pushes here and a well-timed reaction there can immediately give us the upper-hand, changing up the odds and pace of the gameplay and motivating us to keep on fighting back through adrenalin and intensity, not stopping until we are triumphant and subsequently rewarded with a new weapon, ability, item or just the fact that we defeated our enemies. This reliance on combat and the violence that stems from it is understandable, not just because of its ability to entertain us with fun situations but also because it’s a mechanic that is accessible, exciting and something the medium as a whole has experience with. From Wolfenstein 3D and Doom right up to the imminent Halo: Reach and Call Of Duty: Black Ops, we have been shooting things, and our ability to make the ideal headshot is something that has been refined and reformed with each and every game in between. Likewise, we’ve been punching and kicking our way through classics like Final Fight and Double Dragon up to modern titles like Tekken and Soul Calibur, perfecting our combos and maneuvers along the way.

Like it or not violence is here to stay in videogames and so it should, but while the aggressive and brutal actions may have their place, the glorification and endless justifications for it do not, as exemplified by GamePro’s recent “Shooter issue”, and Kotaku’s “gun week” currently taking place. The timing is poignant: the start of September means the start of the silly Christmas rush period the industry has each year and as a consequence of that, it means we also enter shooter season. It’s a time where all the big boys release their key franchise installments, and the aforementioned Halo and Call Of Duty titles are leading the charge. Each game will be vying to steal every consumer dollar possible, and somewhat ironically these titles will be fighting for the attention of the masses, hopefully at the expense of the competition. But I digress.

By centering a body of content -- in GamePro’s case an entire issue* and in Kotaku’s, a decently sized chunk of their posts this week -- around shooting games and the guns that we use within, the genre and thus the violence it revels in is emphasized, highlighted as something significant and more important than, say, the themes or morals trying to be explored. It implies that killing and the way in which we do it is to be celebrated, to be underlined as a crucial part of videogames, and that nothing else matters. It glorifies the act by suggesting that it’s worthy of our unabashed praise and reverence, and suggests to observers that the medium really is as juvenile as it is oft-claimed to be. And therein lies the problem: viewed from the outside, this lavish tribute and admiration is overwhelming and misleads the uninformed into believing that all we as gamers care about is our ability -- our right -- to shoot things in the face. It reflects on our medium by creating the perception that it’s juvenile, and it reflects on us by reinforcing the notion that people who play games are kids -- young, predominantly male teenagers who take immense pleasure in the violence, gore and absurdity -- when, in reality, this just isn’t true. Most unfortunate of all, it says to everyone who hasn’t played a videogame or doesn’t understand what all the fuss is about that we are immature, and that we are just not interested in spending our time with anything more meaningful than the amount of enemies we’ve killed, and the remaining bullets we have left in our guns.

While it’s true that gaming is only in its adolescence, the progress it has made over the years, particularly recently, has been amazing. We have gone beyond violence for the sake of violence, shooting for the sake of shooting, and we will continue to advance as we continue to explore not only the possibilities of the medium, but the potential that each game has to take us to unknown places and to do unforeseen things. It’s not about the perfect headshot or the sheer brutality of our kill anymore; it’s about the limitless freedom that can be gained from the fact that unlike other mediums, we’re not passive: we don’t just hear or see, we do, and that’s a power with force stronger than any violent punch or kick can achieve.

We wonder all the time why so many people don’t understand us and our favourite hobby, and we’re confused when we see yet another strange misconception about the medium, but really, when our own media decides to celebrate guns, shooters and combat instead of report on more important, more meaningful matters, we only have ourselves -- as a unified industry -- to blame. And so, as Kotaku’s gun week continues and gamers the world over mark the beginning of shooter season as they prepare for Halo: Reach’s imminent release, I sit back and wonder: is this just a gun club I forgot to sign up to, or are the bullets of progression yet to be fired?

*Note: I haven’t actually read the issue, living in Australia and all, so I’m unaware of what actually resides within.

Preview Power: Metroid: Other M

[Part of a series of smaller posts that I'll be doing about various upcoming games. I don't jump on board the hype train too often, but when I do I like to think that there's a pretty significant reason for why, and in this series I will attempt to explain my anticipation for each game.]

I absolutely love the Metroid series. It's easily one of my favourite franchises in gaming and I'm not afraid to admit that I prefer it to the more popular, more renowned franchises of Mario and Zelda. If you asked me why I loved the franchise, I'd respond with a reference to the exploration, a nod to the atmosphere, and a suggestion that isolation is one of the defining features of each game. I'd tell you about how Samus Aran inspires me: to play each game to the best of my ability; to get her through any and all situations she finds herself in, good or bad; and to ensure that no matter what, our perseverance will prevail. I'd also go on about how Metroid Prime is my favourite game ever and that nothing else, not even BioShock (think about that one for a second...) comes close to the love I have for that game. The Metroid franchise commands my respect but, more importantly, earns it from every single person who joins its loyal fanbase. It might not have the reputation that Mario does, or the sense of wonder that can be found in every Zelda title, but Metroid is a unique, wonderful take on science fiction that simply resonates with me.

It should be no surprise, then, that Metroid: Other M is high on my anticipated list. Here is a game that has a lot riding on it: like Metroid Prime before it, it's doing something new with the franchise, providing a different perspective that could be absolutely excellent, or a dismal failure; it's being made by Team Ninja, a development team that has a mixed reputation and who certainly don't have the respect that Retro Studios earned over the course of their fabulous Prime trilogy; and it appears to be emphasising things that usually take a more subdued focus in the series, such as narrative and action. The action focus is no surprise -- this is, after all, a game coming from the team behind Ninja Gaiden and Dead Or Alive -- but the narrative? That's something that, arguably, Team Ninja don't have much experience in and, as such, it's very easy to be skeptical.

Skepticism and hesitation surrounds the impending game and for good reason. Story in a Metroid game is usually discovered, the lore of the game's universe and exposition on everything ranging from the Space Pirates to the various species (enemies) you come across in your travels something to be found rather than told. Sometimes, story barely even exists, with just enough portrayed to set up a game and nothing more. In these instances, it's the atmosphere, discoveries -- ability upgrades; bosses -- and exploration that make up the plot of the game, leaving it all up for interpretation and in the hands of a player's imagination. Either way, both have defined the Metroid franchise since its inception and therefore a stronger focus on narrative, with cutscenes and conversations with other people, is cause for concern. Personally I don't have an issue with this and actually hold it as one of my reasons to be excited. While part of the fun of playing Metroid was finding out things at my discretion, finding out more about the Metroid universe and Samus Aran in particular is an enticing prospect, her history and experiences something I want to learn more about. It will be different to previous games, it will take some getting used to and, presumably, such a change will feel abrupt at first, but I'm willing to give Metroid: Other M a chance because I want to give Samus a chance: to tell her story and to make us understand why she is who she is, why she does what she does, and what the things in her past mean to both her and to us.

The action is also something I can embrace, so long as it isn't over done and doesn't come at the expense of the exploration and atmosphere the series is synonymous with. Boss battles are a core element of the franchise and so I'm willing to explore new combat options that may arise from the different perspective Other M will provide. Admittedly I can't actually get a grasp on just how the new game will play -- even after watching gameplay footage -- so it's hard to know where I will stand with it, but for now I am willing to give it the benefit of the doubt and approach it on its terms rather than any of my own.

All in all, as a self-confessed Metroid fanboy I can't not be excited about Metroid: Other M, but beyond that I am genuinely interested in it due to the changes it brings. The formula is nowhere near going stale, but that doesn't mean it can't be repackaged in a way that refreshes the franchise and, hopefully, brings in a new audience with it. The science has been perfected over the years. Now it's time for the fiction to get the same loving treatment. Here's hoping, anyway.

Showtime

My personal favourite surprise from E3: Donkey Kong Country Returns.

So E3 is over for yet another year and, as countless other people are doing, it’s time to offer the obligatory impressions on the show this year. I don’t want to dwell on my personal interests too much -- as frankly, who else cares other than me? -- but I figured I’d still jot these thoughts down in order to dump them somewhere and also have a record for future use.

Before I comment on the three conferences proper, there’s something I need to get off my chest.

What the hell was that “speech” in Sony’s conference by Kevin Butler? I’ll admit straight away that I do not and probably never will understand the appeal that he has garnered in recent months, but irrespective of that, the outburst of hyperbole he so confidently demonstrated on Tuesday was, in a word… baffling. I get the idea that it was done to inspire a certain demographic -- namely the hardcore -- and as a direct result, give Sony the attention and perhaps even ‘victory’ at E3 they so desperately want to achieve, but its presence in a conference clearly focused on new technology and dedicated to other, perhaps new demographics is not only ironic, it’s just simply discordant. The problem is that, as intended, the crowd responded positively, perhaps even egregiously, and so too did the fanboys. But shouldn’t that be a good thing? By achieving a reaction in both the hardcore and, hopefully, the “casual” -- or in other words, everyone else -- surely that makes their conference a success, as a demonstration they have products for everyone and as a clear, perhaps blatant, indication to their competition that Sony are coming? Well no, I don’t think it does. Like Microsoft -- and I’ll discuss this further in a minute -- Sony segregated the markets by allowing this tirade to feature prominently, and promptly did it again when they showed the video with the PSP kid. Where their boasting about their new technology and where they expect it to be in the next few years was intriguing but otherwise nothing extraordinary, their appeal to the hardcore was outrageous and elitist: an extreme example of Sony fueling the fire just for the sake of it. And really, what did they have to lose? Microsoft already separated the industry into two categories with their showing while Nintendo surprised with nostalgia; it’s not about the games anymore, it’s about the image, and, especially with 3D in tow, that’s all you’re going to hear about from Sony in the years to come.

Right, in an ironic twist (or not), my little rant is done; onto my own personal opinion of the three conferences.

Microsoft

It feels somewhat strange saying it, but not a single game (or should that be product?) that Microsoft presented on Monday was interesting. What was shown was intended for markets that, for now at least, aren't for me: starting with the shooters and ending with a variety of Kinect related software that I’m either uninterested in, have seen before or just can’t understand until I get to experience it for myself. I don’t care about Call Of Duty, Halo or even Gears (a series I have enjoyed in the past) nor can I care for Fable III or Metal Gear Solid: Rising when I’m still yet to thoroughly play their predecessors. I am burnt out by the industry’s emphasis on all things shooting, weapons and violence and all the supposed core titles shown at the start of MS’s show just weren’t for me.

As for Kinect, I’m intrigued by it but, like every other new piece of technology this medium has seen in the past, it will live or die by its software and right now, the software I saw is limited in its potential to capture appeal. Yes it will inevitably appeal to consumers already familiar with Nintendo’s recent offerings; yes, it could indeed captivate new audiences, increasing the popularity of our medium even further; and yes, it might even eventually have some really fantastic, unique, ways to enjoy interactive entertainment. But in the meantime, their persistence to chase the unknown, to go after markets that might not necessarily be there, winds up leaving the audiences they already do have behind, and I’m not sure that will be beneficial to them in the end. But then again, does it matter? According to them, we’re already two different industries anyway.

What I don’t understand, though, is why such a small crop of games? Yes this year’s demonstration was always going to be about their new technology, and yes, it was always going to feature the big three blockbuster franchises too, but even so, why did Microsoft choose to hold some of their games -- some of which we already know about I might add -- back, such as Crackdown 2? Just further proof that it’s not about the quality of games anymore but rather the experience these consoles can provide for you, me, and your entire family. I guess it’s up to you whether that’s a good thing or not.

Gorgeous. Definitely looking forward to this level.

Nintendo

Nostalgia sure does have a way to get everyone talking, doesn’t it? Whether it was the sighting of Nintendo’s three crucial characters -- Mario, Link and Samus -- or new additions to franchises we may have left in our memories, the variety of games they showed this year was an incredible grab for the hearts of those who have grown up with Nintendo or at the very least have a history with them, no matter how large or small. But it wasn’t just an appeal to the loyalists, the supposed hardcore, which made their conference interesting: it was a genuinely enjoyable demonstration to watch because, unlike the other two, there were no smoke and mirrors; it was just genuine product after genuine product.

Taking the time to show off the new Zelda first was a clever move. We knew it was coming, we weren’t sure what to expect, and within minutes we knew that, yet again, there was reason to be excited for a new adventure. I’ve already mentioned briefly in the past that my interest in the franchise isn’t as strong as others, but even I’m intrigued by what was shown and keen to learn more, so kudos for grabbing the attention of someone who usually just observes from the corner. Aside from that, focusing the conference on the games instead of the hardware was also clever, the 3DS sounding genuinely impressive but largely irrelevant to me until I can try it for myself.

Ultimately I believe what Nintendo showed with this conference is something more important than an impressive line up of games or indeed future hardware: they proved that they get it when it comes to videogames, something that only a select few other developers (think Valve, Rockstar, Blizzard) can manage consistently in this industry and for me, that is why their conference was the most enjoyable. It’s not about the profits, image or corporate ego -- though, in yet another clever move, they manage to succeed in those areas too -- it’s about the medium, past, present and future.

Oh and Donkey Kong, a game I’ve been wanting to happen -- regardless of which console it appeared on -- ever since I finished the original SNES trilogy the first time, let alone the fifty times (each) after that.

Sony

I’ve already explained my disdain for the way Sony approached their conference this year, the blatant segregation of markets as if they were totally different industries really unnerving me in a way I didn’t expect, but to their credit they did show games, it’s just a shame that yet again hardly any were for me.

I’m sure Killzone 3, in 3D, will be great. Maybe not Avatar* levels like Sony suggest, but I highly doubt the game will be terrible, especially as the forebear for Sony’s push for 3D gaming. It, alongside other games both old (Wipeout HD, PAIN) and new (Gran Turismo 5, MotorStorm: Apocalypse), will probably prove that Sony’s massive commitment to 3D was justified, if not necessary, in much the same way that Move will demonstrate that motion controls do have their place in the videogame medium -- just not as much as Sony would have you believe. Their lineup was filled with variety, something that everyone will likely appreciate, but even so it wasn’t all that original, and the impact of their presence throughout the conference was hindered by leaks and announcements in the week prior. InFamous 2, MotorStorm: Apocalypse and Killzone 3 were already known about, as was, for the fourth consecutive E3 in a row, Gran Turismo 5. Speaking of which, nothing new was shown about that game except for the release date, something the game has already had in the past and can’t be trusted until it actually does come out. The Top Gear track, highlighted as if it’s more important than other tracks, was already known about and while seeing The Stig was admittedly new, it was also expected (as, unlike the show’s three presenters, licensing or legal issues wouldn’t be as complicated), just like previous GT5 reveals in earlier months were, such as the inclusion of the Nurburgring or night racing. It was nice to see LittleBigPlanet 2 (though unfortunately for me I missed some of that as I had to get a drink for my little sister) demonstrated, and no doubt, for those interested, the Twisted Metal reveal at the end is welcome, if unsurprising news.

All in all, Sony had the games which earns them some respect, but the focus on their new technology and the separation of their potential audience, combined with blatantly obvious, derivative and completely unnecessary digs at the competition (Kevin Butler’s rant included) brought it down for me. A personal shame because it really feels like for every step forward Sony make, they take another two back, leading to confused and mixed feelings about how I feel about them, the PS3 and their piece of the gaming pie in general.

So that’s E3’s conferences from my perspective. For someone usually regarded as a Microsoft fanboy (I will never understand that), I think I did a pretty good job of keeping things fair with my comments. I realise that what both Microsoft and Sony are doing aren’t for me right now, and that part of Nintendo’s appeal this year was inspired by nostalgia, but even so if there are any examples of unfair bias I really don’t mean to communicate it. My love is for the medium overall and, after a mixed affair of excitement and confusion, I am struggling to work out where it appears to be headed. But that’s okay, I’ll continue to observe with interest and in the meantime, there are plenty of games already available that I need to spend some time with, so that’s where my thoughts will lie for the foreseeable future. Past, present and future -- it’s all good.

*I’m still yet to see this movie.

Space Invaders: Bully's Brevity

[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 potential spoilers ahead.]

The town of Bullworth in Rockstar’s Bully really surprised me, its design and appearance being a lot different to what I was expecting and its smaller scale enhancing the game’s approach to schooling in a remarkable way. Instead of a bigger is better approach, the developers went in the opposite direction and the end result is a demonstration, yet again, that Rockstar know what they’re doing when it comes to creating and forming a unique world that accommodates the theme they’re trying to convey, and the gameplay ideas they want to explore within.

The first thing I want to point out is the idea that Bullworth is a town, not a city ala the ones featured in the Grand Theft Auto games, and while this might feel like a step back after the evolution that franchise has seen, it is in fact a step down another path, a smaller and more concise one that suits the theme of the game and makes sense within the context such a theme provides.

Bullworth feels like one of those towns where everybody knows each other and this feeling is exacerbated by the ubiquitous presence of the game’s many students. These teenagers don’t just populate the school’s many different areas as idol pedestrians to give the illusion of life in Bullworth; they actually live in the town and as such roam the various parts of it when they’re not required to attend their classes. Continuing the stereotypical parodying of school cliques, certain types of students -- nerds, preppies, etc. -- will appear at certain places in town, making it not only a more fleshed out place generally but also making it easy to find certain students if and when the need arises. The comic book store is where the nerds can be found while the preppies enjoy hanging out at the boxing gym; greasers can be found roaming the streets of New Coventry while the bullies can be found down on the beach, sometimes smoking, sometimes playing Frisbee. It gives Bullworth a sense of place as well as a sense of belonging for the game’s many characters, and it culminates in a community-like feeling that makes playing Bully strangely relaxing. Bumping into recognizable characters on the street such as Algie or Lola can yield a smile as you realise that, first and foremost, they’re not just quest-givers or conduits for information, and secondly, that you actually are getting to know these people: where they hang out, who they hang out with, what they represent (cliques) and what events they have been involved with. Unfortunately the technical limits of the game -- with it appearing on the Xbox 360 and Wii it’s easy to forget that Bully is a last generation game -- means that this illusion of community is ruined from time to time as you see the same characters appear repeatedly within the span of just a couple of minutes. It’s a small issue that you soon forgive and ignore, but one still worth mentioning all the same.

Bullworth Academy -- the place where most in-game time is spent -- is interesting in its own right. Existing almost in the centre of town, the place isn’t just important to the theme and story of the game, it also acts as a hub to the remaining areas, with roads and pathways leading to different sections of Bullworth. It doesn’t sound like anything special when described like that but it does make sense: the school is already the key focus of the game so by being the prominent building and area, its significance and familiarity is continually reinforced, reminding the player that at the end of the day -- quite literally -- that’s where they need to be.

The design of the school is also interesting, the aforementioned cliques each having their own section while the central and main building contains the majority of classes. The boys and girls dormitories sit at the front of the school while the football fields and observatory exist at the back. The greasers have their workshops; the nerds love the library; the jocks train on the fields and the preppies always converge outside Harrington House. Having these areas circle the main building makes sense both in terms of the stereotyping the game revels in as well as the cliques’ need to access their various classes. It also means there is always something to see while hanging out around the school, with rival students engaging in fisticuffs, couples walking together hand-in-hand and the school’s prefects constantly giving chase to troublemakers. As far as the player is concerned, the central focus Bullworth Academy maintains means that it’s always easy to access the classes that need to be attended or to find a particular clique at will, wasting less time when participating in the narrative or when performing a side quest such as taking student photos for the yearbook.

The Academy isn’t the only landmark that becomes familiar throughout play, however; Bullworth is punctuated by multiple landmarks that enhance the ease of becoming familiar with the town and provides neat little hot-spots to visit sporadically. Ranging from a dam to a lighthouse on the beach to the town hall and carnival, each landmark is recognizable, can be seen from a distance -- giving a sense of direction -- and is carefully spread out so that players never get lost. This is different from, say, Liberty City in Grand Theft Auto IV where landmarks are few and far between, spread out over a longer distance and can only be seen periodically. It once again leaves the impression of a more concise and compact game space, and while easy to overlook during play, really benefits the overall experience that Bully provides.

Last but not least, Bullworth also conveys the passing of time quite nicely by taking full advantage of a year’s given seasons. While related more to the game’s narrative than the town itself -- in particular the progress Jimmy Hopkins, the game's protagonist, makes as a student throughout each semester -- it’s still interesting to see the aesthetics of Bullworth change depending on the season. Most obvious is Winter, which takes place throughout Chapter Three. Snow covers the city; snowmen pop up everywhere; Christmas decorations adorn the school grounds; and a giant Christmas tree stands outside the town hall. While essentially just subtle tweaks, these additions as well as those that feature in the other seasons and the dynamic weather -- something I wasn’t aware of until late in the game as it took so long to occur -- add to the game and accentuate the feeling that Bullworth exists with or without you.

Ultimately the town of Bullworth is a neat little location that doesn’t rely on bells and whistles to awe its players and instead utilizes a quaint, dainty feel that makes the player feel at home as well as part of a community. It may not be that big, it may even get repetitive after a while, but it’s familiar, it suits the mischievous theme and presentation, and it’s unique in a genre that is arguably becoming over-saturated. It might not be a significant part of gaming history like Liberty City or Rapture may be, but it is a significant part of Jimmy Hopkins’ life, and really, isn’t that all that matters for a young delinquent such as himself?

Amongst The Stars: Super Mario Galaxy

I have a confession to make, one that I imagine a fair few of you will be quite displeased with: I am not a true Mario fan like most Nintendo loyalists are. I never have been, I never will be.

It's not as if I dislike the Italian plumber or the adventures to save the Princess that he finds himself embarking on, it's just... I prefer other franchises. It's not exclusive to the Mario series, either; I'm also not fond of Zelda like most others appear to be (and there goes the rest of my audience). Instead, my loyalty lies solely with a bounty hunter, one who is a known identity but doesn't receive anywhere near the recognition that those dressed in either blue and red overalls or a green tunic do. Samus Aran's adventures across the galaxy captivate me like no other series of games can, the immense isolation and solitary exploration resonating with me in a far stronger way than anything the Mushroom Kingdom or Hyrule can provide. But despite my allegiance to the Metroid series, I still do enjoy Nintendo's bigger, more popular franchises, and it's an adventure through another galaxy that has recently caught my attention in a way I wasn't expecting.

Super Mario Galaxy is absolutely brilliant. Everyone who has played it is well aware of this, and regarding it as the best Mario game ever would be a hard thing to argue with. I don't know where it sits for me personally and frankly, I don't think it matters. What does is the absolute joy this game brings to those who play it, and below are just some of the things that stood out to me while playing Mario's most recent adventure. *

A Galaxy Of Delights

Super Mario Galaxy is filled with delightful moments that really demonstrate why the Mario franchise is so popular, and undoubtedly Nintendo's best. Even being aware of some of the game's little pleasures before playing didn't detract from their overall impression on my experience, and the enjoyment that comes from it. The first time I became Bee Mario was amazing; wall-jumping to the top of waterfalls as Ice Mario was a basic yet empowering moment; stumbling upon the mushroom that allowed me to fly around the environment at my leisure for brief periods was wonderfully relaxing; and discovering Luigi's presence in the game was a neat -- if expected -- distraction, his acquisition of stars to help me in my quest a pleasant surprise that actually gave the man a purpose, a welcome change from previous games. It doesn't really matter what Mario was doing or which galaxy he was exploring, everywhere I looked was yet another moment of delight, and each session I had with the game left me with a smile on my face. The thing that intrigues me the most about my time with Super Mario Galaxy, however, is that despite all of these delightful distractions the feature that stands out more than any other is the change of perspective that we're introduced to within moments of first playing the game. It is easy to look back and take it for granted now, but damn if it wasn't a special moment that very first time we saw it in motion on our TVs, the Wiimote and Nunchuk in our hands ready for an unpredictable adventure in a familiar, yet unknown setting. It was one of those rare gaming moments that capture the essence of why I -- and I'm sure most of you -- play videogames, and it's an experience I will never forget.

Frustrating Fun

Despite the immense pleasure I had as described above, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that Super Mario Galaxy frustrated the hell out of me at times. There were countless situations where Mario would die because of something really silly -- such as being knocked over by an enemy and falling off the edge of a platform as a result, or not being able to recover in time once I had fallen into some lava** -- and my reaction to these moments was impatience and, in some cases, enough anger to cause me to turn the Wii off completely. But on reflection I would always forgive the game, realising that my frustration was usually my own fault. That's the beauty of Super Mario Galaxy and indeed, most Nintendo games: no matter how annoying they can sometimes be, the good most certainly outweighs the bad, and the bad stems from the player's own issues rather than from the games'. If something is difficult, it's because the player isn't concentrating enough, or taking advantage of a set of skills taught in previous areas of the game. Furthermore, whatever may be posing a challenge is always possible -- nothing is unobtainable, no challenge unbeatable and every single player can achieve the desired outcome if they focus and strive to overcome their moment of difficulty. It's the simplicity of Mario games that makes them a joy to play and definitely why he is gaming's most prominent (not to mention prolific) and recognisable identity around the world. And besides, without a challenge the Mario franchise wouldn't be so rewarding, and we can't have that, can we?

Looking over what I have said above, I've almost made a love letter to Super Mario Galaxy. And indeed, if that's what I've done, then I couldn't think of any other game that deserves it. The sheer fun and irresistible charm that permeates the game is overwhelmingly compelling, and having such a unique change of pace for the Mario franchise be filled with familiar characters, items, locations and remixed tunes is the icing on the already incredible, not to mention tasty, cake. I may not be the biggest Mario fan around, and I'm certainly not a champion of his games like most are, but even I can't deny the excellence that resides within Super Mario Galaxy. It's a ride I will never forget, and if you haven't played it I assure you that when you do, the experience will last with you forever.

*I know New Super Mario Bros. Wii released last year, but I think it's fair to say that the game -- despite it's fantastic, devilish fun -- wasn't a true installment like Galaxy was.

**And what's with Mario only having three bars of health this time? I know there's a mushroom that doubles it, but it still seems to be a strange design decision.

Finally, Wii Can Play

Okay sorry, Wii puns are old. I didn't mean to remind everyone of something that was popular, and overused, over two years ago. It's just that, I live under a rock and have only just recently gotten my hands on a Wii so I hope you'll forgive me for not being able to resist the temptation to use a pun on the console's name. It won't happen again, I promise.

Yes it's true, I got my hands on Nintendo's popular console this week, completing my current generation collection and allowing me access to games that I have been wanting for a few years now. These include the expected titles like Mario Kart and Super Mario Galaxy, but it also includes the lesser known gems that I've had my eye on after reading about them such as de Blob and World Of Goo. The most important game I want to get my hands on though is Metroid Prime 3: Corruption, a game I have been craving ever since it was announced. I have no shame in admitting that I am a massive Metroid fanboy and as such, playing through another of Samus' adventures is one hell of an enticing prospect. Surprisingly, I have been able to contain my desire to play it quite well, mostly because I viewed the game as irrelevant to me while I didn't own the console. I do now, so as soon as I can afford it you can guarantee the game will have another purchase.

Moving along, my impressions of the console are brief. Including Wii Sports with the console is a no-brainer and I'm glad Nintendo chose to, as it is the best introduction to the Wii Remote and how to use it. Wii Sports demonstrates to you how fun it can be to mimic the on-screen action using motion, but more importantly it hints towards the potential that the Wii Remote can be used for -- some of which people have already seen, some of which is on the horizon using peripherals like Wii MotionPlus. For me, I get to start at the beginning, experiencing things that others have already forgotten about for the first time and finally getting to understand where and why they have gained their views on the various games out there. I look forward to it.

The most important thing to come from my short time with the console, I think, is something that doesn't involve me. The simplicity that the motion controls, coupled with a game like Wii Sports can provide means it's very easy for anyone to pick up and play the Wii. Everyone knows this already, but even so I found it very exciting to watch other people play it. One person in particular, my four year old sister, was very interesting to watch. As she is such a young age, she has no history with the medium like I do -- she doesn't know the difference between a PS3 or Wii and she certainly doesn't know the difference between 'normal' controls and motion controls. Naturally, her view is going to be different to mine and won't be influenced by the history and knowledge of the medium that I have, and so it was when she played it for the first time. Her reaction? A simple "WOW!" as she realised she was in control of the pointer on the screen and then subsequently the tennis racquet, baseball bat, bowling ball and golf club. Her elation as she experimented with the motion and hit the ball back across the court in tennis is something that I can't even describe. Instead of analyzing the experience like her older brother would (and did), she was instead just simply content to enjoy Wii Sports for what it was, a simple and fun video game.

Watching that right there, was what showed me what the Wii is about and I instantly understood why Nintendo chose to pursue the direction they have. While I was right to assume that motion controls or the direction they took wasn't going to interest me for too long, I am very glad that Nintendo chose to pursue it anyway. The result is, as we've now seen, an expanded audience but more importantly it is also a console that really can be played by anyone. How is that not a brilliant thing for this industry?