Everyone has one but for me, it's not a subject to dwell on. I've played a lot of games over the years across many systems. And I've found, with my experience, that the good ones stick in the mind whereas the bad ones tend to fade into the ether.
However I do make an exception: A game that came out on the Commodore Amiga by the name of Under Pressure.
So why does this game stand out? I guess it's largely because it was due to my collection of games on the Amiga: Abundant in one level demos but short in actual games.
Still, in order to talk about this game, may I direct your attention to the following play-through:
Original video located here. Accessed 9th November 2018
The first thing you'll notice is that the PC sprite is huge (yes that big ED-209 lookalike is the PC). And the publishers must've thought so too because they put the large sprite forward as a selling point. This, in turn, may account for what drew me to this game.
But watching that play-through, and thereby revisiting this game for the first time in over two decades, I am reminded of what worked against the game. Namely:
The sprite may be big but it moves slowly and in a ponderous fashion, making the game's progression a monotonous experience.
The size of the PC spite also makes quick actions and jumping horrendously difficult.
Again, the size of PC sprite restricts the playing area which, most often than not, results in both unwittingly heading into danger and 'leap of faith' gameplay
This game is difficult - difficult to the point of being unfair. I especially hated those 'drills' that appeared out of the ground and without warning.
Funny that the main selling point is also the game's Achilles' heel.
I mean, i can understand the desire to do something different from the norm and the potential of a big guy fighting little guys (thus reversing a usual shooter trope) but here, the execution leads a lot to be desired.
Watching the video however, one thing that strikes me is just how unfinished the game comes across. The first level has some degree of cohesion but ever level following it has a decline in level design. The fourth level (which i never progressed from) in particular has no sense of direction with dead ends and no proper direction in which to properly progress. Which in turn, gives off the impression that after the first level, the designers lost interest before ending on a half-arsed note.
Is that the reason for the tough difficulty? To hid the fact that wasn't a lot of game to speak of? (note the person behind the play-through was relying on cheats).
But the real slap in the face is the final level: After going through baddies (some of which look like they came from a completely different game), after traversing through dull levels of monstrous difficulty, you fight a boring boss and then the game ends with a 'To be Continued' message.
Just in case you need further convincing that the makers of this game gave up after the first level.
Still, it's just as well the music accompanying said message was kinda rockin; otherwise one would've thrown a controller through the screen.
It has been, at time of writing, twenty seven years and no sequel has shown itself.
It most likely will never show but here's hoping. After all, you can't be too careful...
Here's a blast from the past: Dragonstone. It was an Amiga game that came out in 1994.
Original video located here. Accessed 7th June 2017
I didn't have the full game but I did play a demo of the first level (Woodlands) a lot back in the day - hey, when your system is being phased out and you find yourself short on actual games what else are you going to do?
Looking at the gameplay of this game, it's quite clear the makers of Dragonstone were going for something along the lines of a Zelda clone. of course, this was meaningless to me as a teenager as Zelda would come much later on. But, I want to call attention to two things in the playthrough.
Firstly, the pixel art is simply stunning. I will forever maintain that the 16-bit area produced some beautiful graphics that have aged surprisingly well and this game certainly makes a case for it.
Secondly, this game always struck me as being set on a remarkably small scale. You see, prior to this the RPGs I played usually required me, the player, to defeat some huge Big Bad and involved traveling through to a wide variety of diverse locales with a whole bunch of NPCs to encounter along the way. Not so with this one: based on the Woodlands level alone one gets the feeling the this game is a very isolated experience. You start in a forest as opposed to some village, there are are only two NPCs in the entire area (with the first being both in the middle of nowhere and not immediately apparent) and there is no music, only basic sound effects. All of these make for a very atmospheric experience and proof of the adage that Less is More.
Watching the play through itself, the idea that this is a smaller scale RPG is enforced with the locales themselves: They seem rather limited. We see Woodlands, a Village, a Mountain, a Port Town and finally the Dragon Isle. The small number of locales is fascinating to me: If this is representation of the game's world it's a small one. Does that mean that something bigger is happening out of the view of the player?
It may sound odd but I like this formula of 'small scale adventure with isolationist mood and something bigger may be happening elsewhere'. Wish more people would use it in this modern age.
As established previously in this blog I spent much of the nineties being the proud owner of a Commodore Amga 1200. Of course, the word ‘proud’ is indeed an understatement as the mid –to-late nineties were not a kind time to the venerable company known as Commodore. At the time, everyone had PCs and a wider, and better, selection of games. I had a lot of trouble trying to find something that would work on my machine, let alone something decent, and I was made a laughing stock in amongst my classmates at school. As is often the case with gaming, one need to pick a tribe and hope it isn’t the wrong one because if it is the wrong one you’re going to be up shit creek. And as it so happened, I picked a wrong time to be an Amiga owner – I can only wonder how my brother managed to persuade my father to shell out for an Amiga 1200.
Still I had some good times using my Amiga – I remember blowing an entire summer to complete Soccer Kid and I’ve since regretted nothing. I got into Worms via the Amiga and I even tried my hand at animation with the Amiga. I did try to keep abreast with developments via magazines but much of the time spent there was looking at games that looked ace but being forever out of reach – and settling with demos that didn’t do enough to fill the void. Still, I’ve had a soft spot for the Amiga ever since. Now I recently received the news that Amiga Games Inc has been bought out along with the rights to over 300 games. The purchaser, the Writers Group Film Corp, now has plans to rerelease these titles to modern platforms.
Well this is good news for me on multiple fronts. It is good news as a former Amiga loyalist that interest in the Amiga is still being maintained. It is good news as an advocate for gaming preservation as the games in question are being preserved and not claimed by the march of time. But it is especially good news as someone who missed out on playing many of these games the first time around. As stated above, I never played many of the games that were available at the time and could only gawk at screenshots in magazines (of course some of the games I wanted to play from that era have now been obtained through Steam and GoG). As such I can list many games I’d like to try my hand at: Ruff N’Tumble, Chaos Engine, Bubble and Squeak, Valhalla, Final Odyssey, Alien Breed, Dragon Stone, Shadow of the Beast, Super Stardust, and Shadow Fighter among others.
Of course, it is unclear at this stage which games will be given the greenlight for release –it is entirely possible that the games released will be the crummy ones instead of the much more worthy titles mentioned above. That being said, don’t mess this up Writers Group Film Corp!
With many gamers today being adults - many of whom grew up playing games - there is talk of games getting mature. This is due to games catering for a change of tastes and doing things beyond the restrictions of a child demographic.
Decent enough intentions true but I've grown suspicious of games proclaiming to be 'mature'. It's nice you cater for different tastes just don't make a big show of it! In addition, claims of being 'mature' seem to come across as being silly: Sex, cursing and killing so many dudes in gruesome fashion seems to me, pandering to a sense of spectacle. Sure, it may be great that we can do such things but it is indeed problematic that such things should get more attention than the game mechanics themselves. Other times, the 'mature' content comes across as trying too hard to please an audience that's growing older. I personally thought the use of cuss words in Mass Effect 2 as coming across as trying ever so hard to such pretensions of 'maturity' - so much so that it kind of distracted from what was a stunning game on all accounts.
No, for me, 'mature' games seem ill-defined. In my eyes, 'mature' gaming is really a sign that that games are growing beyond their original intention as a sense of entertainment. 'Mature' games for me those which are trying to get a point across that challenges the player until well after the console is turned off.
So what games do I think meet this criteria? Funny you should say that:
Cannon Fodder (1993) A game that came out on the Commodore Amiga with other systems following suite. Seeing as war games are a major driving force in the gaming industry, it seems strange that one game should come along which criticizes warfare. Strange yes but it works: You control a small group of soldiers through a succession of missions involving entering enemy territory and blowing shit up. Thing is, each soldier has a name and, upon each successful mission the player is confronted with a list of who survived and a list of who got killed. This is then followed by a screen image consisting of a line of new recruits ready for action - a line that encircles a hill covered with graves of the fallen. You wouldn't see a game biting the hand that feeds it but here it works a treat.
The Dig (1995) Sure the dialogue's questionable, sure the period in development was beset with problems and sure it's stern/serious nature seems out of place to the rest of the LucasArts adventure games, but there is still a lot going for this game. I like the ideas that are really being put forward that suggests a gaming maturity: It breaking from the humor that the adventure genre is known for to do something different. It is conveying a sense of wonder in exploring an alien planet. It is the sense of atmosphere on being on a barren world where an advanced civilization once inhabited and is doing something with a tiny cast of characters.
Metal Gear Solid (1997) Heavy handed in it's approach to war and nuclear warheads but at least they're having a stab at it.
Final Fantasy VII (1997) A dying planet that would be glad to see it's human inhabitants gone? That makes heaps of sense to me. Though it is interesting to note that, considering the backlash to the game's conclusion, whether or not gamers are really ready for 'mature' gaming as they so claim....
Chrono Cross (2000) Can't say I've played this game (call it being in a country that apparently doesn't matter) so pretty much all I know about this game comes from this slice of wisdom. Still, what is said is enough to get me interested. As indicated by the linked piece, Chrono Cross, as a game, has as many good ideas as bad ideas. But the one that works, is the one that challenges the borderline between the player and the player character. This eventually reaches it's apex with the game's conclusion with text addressed directly to the player and a montage made up of some life action footage shot in Japan. Won't give too much away (you could read the linked article or just look the ending up on youtube) but I commend the balls the game designers had in presenting such an idea and connecting the player at a personal level. This type of thing needs to happen more often.
So let's drop the pretensions: Let's make something with more substance than style. And while we're at it, someone get me a Ferrari!
It would seem that concocting an introduction to a video game is no easy task: You have to grab the viewer's attention immediately or else they won't give you the time of day. Indeed, with the lack of restriction that modern consoles offer in processing power, many games have bowled people over with a ferocious rush of an intro - and suck enough people in only to realise that less effort went into the game design itself.
Not for me though: The best intros for me came from the 16-bit era: 1990-1995. You know, a time when games knew they were games as opposed to movies. A time when developers embraced their limitations and acted smart in order to get their point across. You may bitch about me being old but for me, intros of the 16-bit era offered more atmosphere, more grabbing of the attention and more establishment of drama than many of their more recent contemporaries.
So for today, I present my list of the 10 best intros of the 16-bit era. These may be old games but they are memorable for a reason: They all worked in some way that they managed to grab my attention and urged me to take up the game controller in hand.
So here we go:
10 - Shining Force 2 (Megadrive)
And the list commences with a burglary that goes horribly wrong. The key purpose of an introductory sequence in any game is to set up a setting and introduce both important characters and key elements. And Shining Force 2 pulls this off with flair: some key characters are established (not least of which Slade), drama and a sense of quest are both set up and a general mood of spookiness is maintained throughout - in the form of the lightening flashes, the weird music and the eventual appearance of the demonic figure. Indeed, the strongest element at work here is the suspense and the gradual sense of approaching calamity. In this list, this introduction is the longest - and could very well be the longest introduction ever of the 16-bit era. It may seem nothing special to someone from the current area where ultra-long introductory sequences are commonplace but less has been said in eight minutes. In Shining Force 2, we see something so simple that eventually triggers a massive adventure. Every quest has to start somewhere.....
9 - Darkstalkers (Arcade)
Erm..... Morrigan..... Seriously though, Attract Modes are integral to Arcade games: You need a decent intro to make yourself stand out from the other arcades alongside and make sure it is the gamer's money going into you - not the others. So what does Darkstalkers do? Offer up a topless chick. Well, as they say, sex does indeed sell: One can only how many people would've been sold over seeing Morrigan's curves. Other than that, there are some nuggets of interest that maintain attention throughout the intro: I like the title appearing over the thunder effects, the panning shot of the genuine freak-show of fighters, the title's eventual appearance with the descending text, the movements of Morrigan's gaze and, of course, the silhouetted Dimitri. So in the end, this intro won me over with some rather subtle use of imagery. And Morrigan.
8 - Castlevania: Rondo of Blood (TurboGraphix)
The Castlevania games have a reputation for building a degree of spookiness onto the player - you are, after all, traversing through a haunted castle so anything less simply would not have done at all. And the intro to Rondo of Blood establishes this spookiness right from the word go: We see a bunch of knights sacrificing a maiden which subsequently resurrects Dracula. I downloaded Rondo of Blood for the Virtual Console and I was surprised to see such a macabre intro - I never knew one such existed in the 16-bit era. Indeed, a sense of unease is established with the toiling bell and the narration making it clear that people are rejecting peace and prosperity in favor of chaos - even to a point of going to an effort to end the peaceful age. Of course, as made clear in the translated video above, the translation is peculiar and the German narration sounds ridiculous in it's sternness. But in the terms of spookiness, unease, drama and general macabre, you can't go past this.
7 - Chaos Engine (Amiga)
Sometimes, simplicity works best. Through text and minimal imagery, this intro introduces the characters who make up the game: Thus we meet a monster and learn just how big a threat it poses. We also meet six gun-totting mercenaries, all geared up to take on the titular baddie. And...that's pretty much it. The reason why this intro works is that it establishes the six selectable with a portrait and passage of text. And within the confines of these two elements, the mercenaries certainly show plenty of character - we may not be presented with much more in the way of information about these dudes but what there is, is indeed enough. Perhaps maybe modern game developers should take note? Indeed, I for one would like to see how these six mercenaries would last in a current-generation game where fully-realised scripts and voice acting are the norm.... So yes, I like this intro for the way it introduces it's cast - the accompanying music, provided by the late great Richard Joseph, is a treat too.
6 - Jungle Strike (Megadrive)
Intros need to establish a sense of drama in order to grab the player's attention and to provide them with a sense of purpose for the action ahead. And this is shining example of that principle. Two dudes blow up an island in the Pacific and immediately afterwards state their intent for revenge on the US: one for his father's death and the other for interference on their drug trading. Thus we meet the bad guys and learn their motivations - who are, of course, pissed off enough to use nuclear weapons upon Uncle Sam. Further drama is established through then cutting to a news broadcast and finally settling on the player character swinging into action. Thus, we see a chain of events which explains everything - all held together with some great music which furthers the sense of urgency. I however like the imagery which are made to resemble that of a comic book. I also like the laid-back attitude of the player character responding to things as they unfold before him. See? This is how it's done: In a few short minutes we meet the bad guys, we see what they are capable of, we see what has inspired them to do what they are doing, we see the effects and then we meet the player character and see just what type of character he is. No in medias res, no unnecessary padding, no complexity and nothing coming all out at once. See? Simplicity works for a reason!
5 - Alien vs Predator (Arcade)
Again, an arcade game providing an attract sequence that demands attention - and again, provided by Capcom no less. Immediately, the first thing that grabs attention is the music: A theme that suggests the mood of the game without a single image: Impending doom, invasion from an unstoppable foe and unexpected help from what could be the lesser of two evils. Indeed, I remember being a kid and hanging around the cabinet just for the music itself. The images also work great: I like the changes of perspective going from lunar orbit, to a computer screen before ending to a battlefield. I also like seeing the hordes of Aliens, the sense that the two marines are the only opposition left standing and the sudden arrival of the Predators. Indeed, what makes this intro work is the drama of encountering an unstoppable foe who outnumbers you a hundred times over and, generally, being part of a battlefield where the main combatants are two intruders to your planet leaving you, the human cyborgs, caught in the middle. In fact the use of the sentence 'A Living Hell' on it's own, says a lot. And the fact that I was willing to use so much coinage on this game in my teen years suggests the mission of the attract mode, a well and truly successful one.
4 - Super Metroid (SNES)
Whilst the pre-game set up of Super Metroid with Samus' narration is an impressive sequence by itself, the part I will forever remember is the title screen. In such a short space of time, we see three corpses - one clearly being a child - and the Metroid linked up to a machine, being the only light source in an otherwise darkened room. As a result, a sense of drama is established in the most subtle of ways: we the audience are left wondering who are (or were) these people? What happened to them? What is the Metroid doing there? Throw in some extremely creepy music and we have a degree of interest triggered within the player and just what awaits them ahead. Its a triumph of subtlety - and the best bit of all is the pay off: In the first location, Samus encounters the machine but this time, the Metroid is missing. Super Metroid may be best remembered as a game of subtle moments and a sense of unease - but the most memorable moment of all is when all of these are established masterfully at the very beginning. No wonder many modern game developers keep looking to Super Metroid for inspiration.
3 - Final Fantasy 6 (SNES)
The first five Final Fantasy games (hurrah for alliteration!) had a deceptive undercurrent: It all looked bright and cheerful ate first glance but underneath there lurked some sinister elements: Somber musical pieces, as many sad endings as happy endings and permanent deaths of party characters. Thus, the sixth Final Fantasy immediately announces it's intentions from the start: Through a dramatic organ and a drab colour palette, it becomes clear that the seriousness has come to the front and the colourful back-drops of the past have been placed aside. It is interesting how such a change in mood can be pulled off so well - indeed, one can only wonder the sense of surprise on one who'd been weened on FF4. Indeed, seeing as FF is a game series that provides variations on a theme, when they do something completely different it is worth sitting up and taking notice. And that's not the only FF convention turned on it's head: In the expository text that follows, we see magic, one of the FF hallmarks, has been discarded and technology has taken it's place. Further drama is established with certain people wanting recover the forgotten art of magic and the potential threat of repeating a previous calamity. No doubt about it, FF6 certainly adds a lot of conflict right off the bat. However, the most memorable aspect is the credits sequence, where we see a trio of mechs advancing through the snow, accompanied by a haunting rendition of Terra's theme. This is indeed, one of most memorable images of the 16-bit era and, I for one, certainly had it burned into my mind the first time I saw it. I guess it must be one of those videos where everything clicks together to produce a solid whole - I can't really describe why it's so memorable: I guess it's one of those perfect moments that everyone has to see it for themselves. All in all, the march sequence is truly a shining example of how music and imagery can join forces to produce something that could only be described as unforgettable.
2 - Terranigma (SNES)
Whilst the US got Chrono Trigger, the UK, Europe and Australia had to settle for Terranigma. A forgotten gem yes but what an introductory sequence! In terms of presentation, this one leaps ahead of the rest. It utilizes some stunning graphics and a great choice of music, ranging from the heartbeat at the beginning to the restrained music throughout. Everything is handled in a subtle manner (an alien concept to many JRPGs) and the effort gone into it shows. The text is also compelling describing a planet from birth and the trials and tribulations of the people on it, accompanied by the brilliant use of time passing on a pocket watch. Also of particular interest is the use of Biblical motifs - which of course leads to my favourite moment: The watch ticks to twelve o'clock, the hands fall off and a numbers shift to make way for a Thirteenth hour. Some say JRPG's are all bombast and lack subtlety but then they decide to do things differently, it succeeds with flying colours. Terranigma may be disregarded as some to be a poor cousin to Chrono Trigger - but it sure has a lot going for it with it's use of history, it's glorious music and it's ideas. All of these are brought together to bring the finest introduction ever on the SNES.
And my favourite intro of the 16-bit era is....
1 - Moonstone (Amiga)
So what makes a memorable intro? Awesome visuals? Unforgettable music? The establishment of what must be done in the game itself? The setting being built up? Or the creation of unease towards the viewer? How about a combination of all of them? Ladies and gentlemen we have a winner: May I introduce Moonstone. A game from the Commodore Amiga that never went any further. Maybe it was the blood and gore that predated the sensation caused by Mortal Kombat. Maybe it was made in a place that wasn't the US or Japan. Or maybe the game wasn't that remarkable. Whatever: The intro itself was enough to make the game. Indeed, I remember being twelve years old and thinking this was actually quite a freaky intro - In fact at the time, I never thought it possible that someone was actually doing this type of thing. Moonstone is a game that has a sense of dread lurking throughout and this intro encapsulates it perfectly. Throw in a perfect mix of graphics, unsettling music (again provided by Richard Joseph)and impending doom and you've got a winner. So many memorable moments, I don't know where to start: the music that comes creeping in, the pan down from the moon to the forest floor, the sudden clash of multiple drums, the druid's chanting, the knight's hand moving with nervousness and the concluding piece of text where the target in spelled in a single, capitalized word. It's amazing to think the developers accomplished so much with such, by today's standards, limited hardware. I don't know how many times I've seen this intro but it still works everytime. I recall the first time I played Moonstone: I was blown away by the intro but never got any further due to my A1200 frowning upon A500 technology. It was only many years later that I managed to play the game but, with high expectations brought by the intro, I came away disappointed. Still, at least there's always the above video.....
So that's my list of best 16-bit intros - artifacts from an era where people know what they wanted to get across and did it using the tools at their disposal. So what I do think of modern game intros? Not much I'm afraid: If the serial Unskippable is anything to go by, they just keep growing increasingly ridiculous: It's all about the spectacle, where generating gamer interest is through flashy graphics and creating confusion - interest that ultimately leads to mockery. Some people got it right the first time - now it's a matter of time before we suddenly remember how it's done properly.
Continuing on with that rant I made earlier this week about subtlety, I am reminded of a game that came out in 1994, for the Commodore Amiga (and later PC). For the unfamiliar, Dreamweb is a adventure game where you control a dude named Ryan. Through a series of recurring dreams, he is informed by a group of monks that seven evils are in the city he lives in and whose continued presence will eventually bring about a global calamity. Thus, Ryan is assigned to hunt them all down and kill them, in the name of restoring the balance and saving the world.
Sounds familiar? Not this time: You see whilst the game itself may run through a tried and tested gaming plot formula, it soon becomes clear that something about this game just doesn't sit well. A quick peek into the manual reveals a diary kept by Ryan which reveals a lot about his mindset: He has problems with his girlfriend, he's been lacking sleep and he is showing signs of paranoia. Ultimately, Ryan is losing his marbles. Thus whilst the game is a standard kill-dudes-to-save-world-scenario, the manual, and hints throughout the game, tell a different story: Is Ryan deluded? Is he a serial killer? Is he using the rationale of the Dreamweb as an excuse to gun down people in cold blood? Ryan is not all bothered by motives - and if the player questions them, progress through the game is stalled.
At first, Ryan is in a kill-or-be-killed scenario. That changes, in the second mission where Ryan has to gun down an innocent person, a security guard no less, simply because they are in the way. This unfortunate adds more to the questionable morality of the game, simply through having no function beyond being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yet there a few clues that suggest that the DreamWeb is real and Ryan more not be deluded. Indeed, by the end of the game, the player has to arrive at a conclusion about Ryan and the state of his character.
Dreamweb as a game inspires many questions - all of which are never resolved by the game's end. That it does so, is a masterstroke - adding further to the punch this game provides. Indeed, the strength in this game is in it's story-telling and the way it challenges it's audiences. So much so, it makes me wonder why no one else has tried to replicate this scenario (maybe they're too scared of subtleties. Or too busy trying to match Halo's thunderous success). It's been sixteen years - we could do with some more ways of telling the story, addressing key themes and, indeed, something to point to to verify a maturity in gaming.
You know, to hell with Prince of Persia: They should a game-based movie out of this!
