The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom

 The legend of Hyrule is the legend of Calamity Ganon... again... 

Finally it has come. After years of waiting around for anything to come out, rumours upon guesses, suppositions upon assertations, we finally have that one announcement that we've all been waiting for; the name for the Breath of the Wild sequel game. No longer do we need to call her 'Breath of the Wild 2: This time's it's wilder'. We can genuinely put one our calendar the name of 'The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom'; finally unveiling the naming convention that this new breed of Zelda games is running with. It's 'of the' season, apparently. And for one I can say that is a name I wasn't exactly expecting from a thematic sense, it sounds more poetically tragic than I was feeling with all the trailer snippets we've had of Link soaring through chunks of skyward bound land, but I suppose the poetry-style metaphor language forms an identifiable basis from which to affirm this subseries' identity. Any other titles with a name like this might invite derision at the apparent pretentious allusions of such a interpretive name, but anyone who experienced Breath of the Wild can readily acknowledge that with this franchise, the games are good for cashing marketing's cheques. 

It's just a shame that this title reveal, and the eye-watering belayed release date that's going to have us waiting more than half a year from this point, is all we have to go on because our Zelda Developers don't want us to see a square inch of this game for too long. In a way it makes me excited; because this team have already shown what they can do before and if they don't want to spoil some grand surprise they've had cooking up for the past few years that is absolutely grounds for hype; but I just wish we had some fundamental realties about the game revealed to us. For example; is this really a direct sequel? After 'Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity' unveiled a new timeline where the Guardian menace was stopped before it could destroy the kingdom, the possibility has opened up of this being an alternate timeline version of 'Breath of the Wild'; and the fact I've been asking that question for the past few years is slowly chipping away at my sanity.

The evidence seems confusing. For one the initial reveal trailer for 'Tears of the Kingdom' clearly showed off the corpse of Ganon which was nowhere to be seen during 'Breath of the Wild', presumably because in that Timeline Ganon had transcended the need for a physical form and instead involved into some miasma portent of evil. Calamity Ganon was roundly destroyed at the end of BOTW, so I can't imagine he left behind a corpse to be resurrect in timely fashion. Additionally, the title trailer which revealed the new name showed off a wall-scrawled relief history lesson just like BOTW had; only there was no image depicting the Guardian war at all. (But then that in itself is confusing, as the Guardians did still go out of control in the new timeline, they were just stopped. I'd still call that a historical event worth depicting.) And then just as another curve ball, the official cover art for Tears of the Kingdom just dropped, and we can see the swirling evil of Calamity Ganon wrapped around what appears to be Hyrule castle in the background. Just like what we can see in the background of the 'Breath of the Wild' box art, implying these games are retellings of one another.

In one sense this makes me a little sad because I really wanted to see the next part of the story after the destruction of Ganon and the resurrection of the Kingdom. Also, I wanted to move on from the concept of Calamity Ganon which we already explored throughout Breath of the Wild rather conclusively. We saw what he was, the extent of his abilities and the heavenly manifestation of the Goddess that ultimately destroyed him. What more is there really to cover? I wanted there to be a new threat of some unknowable evil, like the darkness of the 'Usurper King', or the mystery of 'Majora'. With all the similarities that 'Tears of the Kingdom' is going to have to it's predecessor, in terms of setting, visual style and gameplay mechanics, it really feels a step too comfortable to literally retell the story of 'Breath of the Wild' but in a different timeline. It would also totally invalidate the events of 'Age of Calamity' to just say "Yeah, but he resurrected and took over the Kingdom anyway; thanks for fighting though!"

But from a raw sense I am interested to see the ways in which 'Tears of the Kingdom' is going to remix the Hyrule that we know in ways we never would have imagined before. Bringing the action into the sky is building upon an already stellar grasp of verticality that 'Breath of the Wild' had to perhaps make air-combat into a key component of the gameplay. We've also seen a much sturdier looking glider for Link to travel the skies atop of, reinforcing this idea of being just at home exploring the floating islands as we are on the ground.  Speaking of which; the ground is apparently still very much within the game for 'Tears of the Kingdom'; and I'm quite curious to see how the landscape is affected by having giant chunks of earth ripped out of the ground and thrown into the sky. And more importantly- I wonder at what might be awoken from the underground by that disturbance...

This time around I really hope that they'll be more life to the Kingdom of Hyrule, now that (assuming the alternate timeline assumption is correct) the Kingdom hasn't had to endure a century of decay and ruin chipping away at society.  Given the longevity of the species of Hyrule, it's fully plausible that all the Champions would be around in person to assist Link on his journey, even if Zelda isn't because she's locked in yet another metaphysical duel with Ganon for the entirety of the game. (That's another reason I wanted a sequel. Playable Zelda would have been so cool...) The main narrative cutscenes of 'Breath of the Wild' all being memory flashbacks created such a barrier between character motivation and player drive that I often didn't even want to uncover the next memory because the story content within would never adequate contextualise the current events I was embarking on. (There were a few modernly-set cutscenes at each Kingdom, and they were much more engaging. I hope for an entire game full of cutscenes like that this time around.)

There's also a new and so far entirely unexplored angle to 'Tears of the Kingdom' in Link's cursed glowing robotic arm. I suspect that from a very mechanical perspective it's merely supposed to act as a substitute for the Sheikah slate from 'Breath of the Wild'; because that slate was originally Zelda's passed onto Link, and if this is an alternate timeline then she never had the chance to pass it to him before she fell into Ganon's death pit, as we saw in the reveal trailer. But I'm curious about the ways the Shiekah arm will empower Link in ways that the Slate didn't. Much of what that Slate could do was taking advantage of the tools of the Switch, (or the Wii U if you were cursed enough to own that version of the game) and now that we're far enough into the Switch's life cycle for the team to divorce themselves from that gimmicky clutch; there's a real opportunity to get creative this time around. Such that I honestly can't figure out the little snippets of power that we're seeing. I think there's a gravitational shift move in the latest trailer; it's hard to pinpoint.

May 2023 is the definitive release date this time around, and Nintendo have agonised so much over getting this date out that I can only assume they have so much confidence in themselves that no more delays are imminent. Of course, that also leaves little room for an information blow out regarding what 'Tears of the Kingdom' has in store, barring the possibility of a huge Zelda-focused Nintendo direct in the early months of 2023. But who can really say when the next Direct is going to show it's face? Those things are rarer than White Whales and just as tricky to predict. Maybe they'll just cold turkey us all so as to save all secrets until release day; current Zelda is probably big enough that they could safely do that. For my sake all I know is thus; this game is getting in my Switch one way or another, I have my money ready, I just need a Nintendo address to throw it at.

The Legend of Zelda Review

 It's dangerous to go alone...

Oh, you read that right. I'm not talking no 'Link to the Past', 'Ocarina of time', or 'Breath of the Wild'; I'm talking the classic original from 1986 that I've been slowly playing through over the last 2 months. (It was like, two 1 hour sessions a week, don't bully me) Now I can finally consider myself on the same level as maybe tens of thousands of other people who not only love the Legend of Zelda but can boast about having plumbed it's origins. But don't think that iconic status is going to prevent me going off on a fair review where I have complaints and the like. Oh, I have things to say! But there's actually quite a few positives thrown in there as well, and lets just say that coming out of the whole thing I would certainly recommend the title as a stellar, if not exactly representative of the rest of the industry at that time, representative for 1986. It's no wonder that Nintendo became the gaming powerhouse they did when they were on some completely different stuff all the way back in the late 80's.

Playing games from the past here and there, and really bingeing my way through the Nintendo Switch Virtual console, I've become increasingly aware of just how many just crap-tier platformers and space shooters the NES had. I mean there were classics, do not get me wrong, but there were so many clones and parodies and games that bought nothing new to themselves apart from a coat of paint slightly different from that one platformer you played last week. As such, when you play a game like The Legend of Zelda, it really does stand out to you in a big way. How many other games created a whole new genre on the spot, whilst creating the very concept of save slots just to justify it's ludicrous size? There's no doubt about it, the original Zelda is a fulcrum point from which gaming swung from a field of shallow ideas to a bustling stream of new potential horizons. The entire industry would have played out so very different without it.

Now that's out of the way, let me talk about the thing itself. The Legend of Zelda follows a small kid called Link on his journey to rescue the Princess of Hyrule from the Prince of Darkness, Ganon; as straight forward as fantasy settings get. How this plays out for the player is a top down openworld adventure wherein the player is tasked with navigating a dangerous world whilst gathering rupees, tips and clues from the environment in order to track down the various dungeons littered around Hyrule and pick up pieces of the mythical Tri-Force. (It's just a mystical triangle in the lore right now. They hadn't even invented the three triangles, let alone got around to explaining what it even was.) Well, actually you can just head straight for Ganon in Death Mountain, but without the complete Tri-Force you'll just force yourself through the hardest dungeon of the game in order to stand around like an idiot when the final door doesn't open.

Exploration and adventure is the heart written into this game at it's utmost inception, as the spirit of childhood imagination was the key-most influence. As such, a lot of Hyrule is built with this sweeping scale to it, requiring players to travel large distances in order to get to key locations, and always being sent to the beginning field whenever they die. But due to the open world nature of the game, which again was unique at the time, this really just means you can plan your route through the world anew and strategize against the enemies. Having a curious mind and trying out something new is designed to be rewarded in a game like this, and often times you'll find the most incredible secret hiding in plain sight, it's really quite ahead of it's time. But therein actually lies my first gripe.

As this game is so ahead of itself, that means the design choices have a certain lingering... primitive mindset behind them. But that I mean, when it comes to organising secret rooms the developer went for the duel sin of throwing literally no indicator of where they are, and having a great deal of them be essential to progression. Oh, and the only way to open these secret passages is usually with bombs, which are a limited resource that you need to slay monsters and pray to the RNG gods in order to refill. By the end game dungeons, blowing holes through multiple walls is the only way to reach the final boss, and whereas some secret caves will have the odd NPC hidden under a rock who'll point to their location with a really vague clue, inside of dungeons you're on your own, which gives this game a very confrontational vibe to it's design intent. As though the game wants you to try and blow up every wall and waste all your bombs so that you have to spend more time getting extras. Speaking of-

Can I talk about the hearts system a bit? So The Legend of Zelda has an upgradeable heart system whereupon you find heart canisters, or are rewarded them for completing each dungeon, and you get a new addendum onto your health. One of the more cool rewards for this is that the more hearts you have stocked, the more 'experienced' your character is considered, and so special vendors will hold weapon upgrades you can only get with a certain number of hearts. That's a really cool progression incentive. However, one might wonder what the purpose of hearts actually is, when the second you lose even a single half of one, you cannot attack as powerfully anymore. That's right, Link has a ranged sword shooting attack that he can only use at full strength, which makes it instantly less fun to play upon the first piece of damage. These sorts of over-punishing resource management rules is what makes most survival games so unbearable, but I'm very surprised to see it's sire came from this sort of pedigree.

And now the bosses, or specifically the finale. A lot of the bosses in this first Zelda game are okay, they're not particularly special, just slightly tougher mob enemies. Some bosses have little quirks to them that are mentioned by secret room NPCs, one has a quirk which isn't mentioned by anyone, but Ganon had to be the biggest disappointment out of all of them. Why? Because his fight literally just consists of him going invisible and teleporting around the room shooting fireballs. He doesn't even have any animation frames of attacking, you have to go to the places where he's teleporting to and swing at the air in order to hurt him, and after four hits and a silver arrow he's dead. There's were some mobs on the way to him that were hardier than that, talk about an anticlimax.

All that being said, The Legend of Zelda was still a much meatier game than anyone could have expected for the time it came out in, and though there are a lot of features I think aged poorly, the raw game can be a little bit of fun beyond that which naturally comes from satisfying one's own curiosity.  I can't say it enriched my love the Zelda series anymore, but I'm glad I took the time out to play through it and might, potentially, do so again at some later date. What I'm stuck on is how to rate this, either in comparison to other games of the time or modern titles, either seems unfair given the subject matter, so I've settled for a hybrid grade. For lovers of retro who love their old school games, this is an easy A Grade because it's one of the best. For modern game lovers this title is a little wantonly obtuse and unhelpfully designed, so I'd err more towards a C- Grade. (I enjoyed the world, but man would it have helped if destructible blocks were at least a different colour. This isn't an arcade game, you don't need to fleece people for extra dimes.) Bringing those together would give me a B, but that finale was utterly anitclimatic, after a really hefty and promising last dungeon too, and so for that lingering bad taste I'm knocking down to a cumulative C+ Grade. If you simply want to get into Zelda as a franchise, this isn't the place to do it, (Try Ocarina) but established fans might enjoy the simple charm despite the obvious frustrations attached.

What make the most memorable videogame Weapons?

What is the one gun to out-shoot them all?

Yeah, I know that's a pretty open-ended question to lead off with but bear with me for a little while whilst I justify it. Gaming contains a vast array of different experiences, genre's and existential headspins that it's almost impossible to be a fan of almost anything or judge one universal aspect. What I can look at, however, is overwhelming commonalities across a great number of Venn circles. One such commonality is that a great many games feature some sort of strife and thus usually features weapons of some sort that vary depending on the thematic back drop and/or genre in question. Good enough justification? (It'll have to do.) So yes, talking about weapons across all the video game landscape is daunting because there are just so many potential picks to pluck at, but I specifically want to point out the weapons that stand far out to the point of almost overshadowing the game. The sort of weapons that some may be able to name, or at least recognise, before naming the point of origin. And I want to discuss what it is that makes them that way, because I don't feel it's one universal rule, and perhaps in doing so I'll unravel some sort of pessimistic formula to creating the ultimate unforgettable video game weapon. (Or not, who knows.)

BFG: DOOM

And the first weapon I wanted to start off with was an gun so iconic that you probably already knew it was going to be on the list before I even knew, it's just second nature. (But can I at least say that I considered the Super Shotgun first because that's a weapon I see much more often, before realising that gun is actually intentionally generic looking and the BFG was a much better candidate.) So the BFG (standing for 'Big F***ing gun' and not 'Bio Force Gun' like the awful movie tried to say) is a very peculiar first pick because what makes it popular isn't immediately obvious. The immediate first guess would obviously be it's destructive capability, but that has altered so drastically from game to game to the point where that can't be it. All that's consistent is that it can one-shot enemies, but the actual killing beam itself is unrecognisable in modern games in all but colour. Then there would be the design, but again it's been subject to complete reworking, from something that looks like it's harnessed onto the arm to a spiky sci-fi reworking and settling with the more box-y functional look of today. Honestly, I think it's the name. People just love the idea of a name as ridiculous and cool as the BFG, and if you have to swear in order to properly pronunce it then that's just more points to the cool factor. To this day, when swearing in games in no longer a novelty, BFG's name alone is a reminder of the old-school chaotic mayhem and carnage that DOOM represents, thus the gun becomes iconic.

Gravity Gun: Half Life 2

Here's another absolute shoe in. One can hardly discuss iconic anything in the world of gaming before Half Life drops into the conversation, but I like to think that the Gravity Gun covets popularity that persists beyond the game itself, and this time the memorable nature is immediately identifiable for all; it's for the very unique Gravity Gun functionality. Half Life 2 marks gaming history as the first game to execute truly robust physics-based systems, and the Gravity Gun was the way in which they tied it into the gameplay. Allowing players to literally pick up pieces of the environment and manipulate it, the Gravity Gun acted in way that no other gun had really done before in gaming and encouraged imaginative open-ended problem solving that inspired countless games to come. In fact, at a stretch you could even call the success of the Gravity Gun a genesis point for the eventual birth of the Immersive Sim sub-genre of RPGs! (Or at least you could do that if the original Deus Ex didn't predate Half Life 2 by 4 years. We'll say it led to 'the rise' of immersive sims, then.) So this one is iconic for being groundbreaking, simple enough. 

Keyblade: Kingdom Hearts

Okay, getting a little bit off the beaten path with this one, but here we have the ever important Keyblade in the ever esoteric Kingdom Hearts franchise. This here's a bit of personal pick because I haven't had the chance to progress in Kindgom Hearts for a while, but I think it stands due to the sheer popularity of the game and the fact that even if you have no idea what Kingdom Hearts is, you know the Keyblade. What makes it so curious to me, despite the fact that's its essentially just an oversized key, is the way in which it's designed to serve as a sword despite being completely blunt and used to lock doors despite literally representing a symbol for opening things. (Yes, I'm only talking about how it's used in Kindgom Hearts 1, because overwise my brain will explode) This is another clear cut when it comes to pinpointing the fame, because despite one of the coolest aspects of the Keyblade being the fact that it's appearance completely changes depending on the themed keychain attached to it, it's Sora's standard old blade which remains an Iconic symbol of the Disney-Final Fantasy crossover fanfic of a game. Just like with a lot of Square's properties, all the money's in the image and design. (and is that so wrong?)  

Mandibular Rearranger: The Outer Worlds

A bit more of a modern pick for you, yet one that I think still holds up to snuff against the rest of them. Who remembers the Mandibular Rearranger, or used it and cannot remember the name? As a refresher, this is the unique science weapon in The Outer Worlds that was born out of a bug and essentially had the effect of shrinking or enlarging a random part of the victims's body to frankly comical results. (And I don't just mean their horrible, and likely very painful, deaths) Use this on the unsuspecting passerby and you can expect their heads to shink, hands to grow, ear's to pop, all until they look like something out of a SIMS character creator; and all that from essentially just a little glowstick. Coming away from The Outer Worlds I think that this Rearranger was certainly the most memorable weapon in the game to the point where it sort of outshone the game itself when it was first announced. It was just such a silly celebration of the fun people can have from messing around in games and that developers can have when making them, easily cementing this as a weapon iconic for it's wacky effects.

Steel Sword: Skyrim

Ah, now we get to the games of my age; The Elder Scrolls Skyrim and it's iconic... Steel Sword? Of course there are many examples of memorable iconography from The Elder Scrolls series including some from Skyrim itself. You have the Daedric artefacts, the Nordic Aedric symbols, the banner of the Imperials and the Stormcloaks, etc. But when you think of bog standard weapons it always comes back to this Steel Sword, such to the point where more than one asset-store flip job has been rustled for stealing it. (Which is so short sighted, this is one of the most recognisable swords in gaming.) Here the recognition is quite interesting, as the sword itself isn't special in any way and it's design, whilst thematically impeccable, rather pointedly avoids the grandeur that one would call back to in reverance. No, I'd say the popularity of the Steel Sword actually goes back to the marketing, in the same why that the Dragonborn is synonymous with the 'iron armour with Studded Cuirass' combo look. These are the images that adorned all the marketing, the live action trailers, the gameplay trailers and the promotional material, thus just as with cover characters,  these stick out as the first impression everyone thinks of when it comes to Skyrim. Just goes to show how important those first impression are, no?

Greatsword of Artorias: Dark Souls

Oh, there it is. (Bet you knew I couldn't go a listicle without dropping the Dark Souls) So there is a truly ludicrous number of great weapons and armour from the Souls games that stand out as symbols, yet when pressed, most remember the Greatsword of Artorias the best, and I'm still not completely confident as to why. As opposed to the cover adorning, Elite Knight Armour, or the ever present, Moonlight Greatsword, here's a weapon that doesn't really get any overt coverage in material or really in the game either. I mean sure, it's technically on the back of the character for the cover of the 'Artorias of the Abyss' DLC, but that's not the image of Dark Souls, so I'd hardly say the popularity starts there. Even in the game it's only ever seen wielded by Artorias himself, (as well as giant version held in the mouth of his greatwolf Sif) unless you go far out your way to craft it. I actually think these weapon's popularity might actually come down to the pure design of the thing, because even in game of fantastic designs there is something about this sword in particular that is truly exceptional. It's a huge, shapely, medieval Greatsword with enough ornate decorations to stand out but not appear too gaudy. It glints with that dark, cruel gleam that invokes the gothic shades of the theme as well as the tinge of tragedy that taints it's master's backstory. Put simply, in many ways this Greatsword's design is the purist reflection of the game that spawned it, thus her aesthetic propagates the fandom.  

GLOO Cannon: Prey 

The Gelifoam Lattice Organism Obstructor (or GLOO) Cannon from Prey's 2017 revival is not what I would call the prettiest weapon in the world. Nor is it the most revolutionary thing to hit the world of gaming, changing the way that software itself it formed. It also doesn't have a name that really rolls off the tongue or has a fun swear word to blurt out at inappropriate moments. But what it does have is function and versatility, and in an immersive sim like Prey, that's pretty much the player's bread and butter. The GLOO gun shoots out a substance that glues (I get it) itself to the surface it touches in a gelatinous, foam-like substance which is strong enough to stand on, or trap something in. When faced against the mimics that litter the gameworld (beings capable of shifting their shape in order to imitate other objects) you can probably figure out the appeal. What makes the GLOO cannon so special and memorable is the way that it's the first ranged weapon you get access to in the game, thus forcing you to become familiar with all the ways in which you can manipulate it's GLOO for any situation. Combat, boosting yourself to a new floor, blocking entry points, covering electrical bursts, making snow angels, just about anything you can think of. And when you pull something crazy off, you feel like a winner for thinking outside the box. Hindsight has been kind on 2017's Prey, and the GLOO cannon is a big reason for why that is; it set the tone for the creative adventure Prey would be, thus it's memory is tied to hers.

Master Sword: Zelda

And last, but by means least, we have the humble Master Sword, as wielded numerous times by Link in the franchise that doesn't even feature his name. (Has Zelda ever even held the Master Sword?) The mere silhouette of this weapon is enough to set fanboys off hyperventilating, and you would be remiss to see a gaming-themed decor job that had neither this or a triforce somewhere. (It's like a rule) And honestly I think that this particular Sword owes it's memory as much to nostalgia as to design itself. You see, Zelda has spanned decades and innumerable art styles, but the Master Sword has remained more or less exactly the same in look throughout the games. At times it's been the strongest weapons in the player's arsenal, whilst at others it's keep earned in other ways; but the narrative import and the cyclical nature of the legend keep this Sword as a permanent part of Link's arsenal. At this point, as much as Link is a piece of gaming history, so is this sword, and that's the sort of iconic status that is sure to stick for more decades to come.

So that was just a cherry picking of some weapons that permeate the legends of gaming culture, and from collating them all together we get a pretty definitive idea of what the perfect video game weapon would resemble. It would have to be beautifully designed to an impeccable degree so that it dazzles the user, yet still be simple enough to be recognisably silhouetted. It would need heavy marketing alongside the game it features in, as well as image consistency throughout the years so that everyone remembers it. It would need to be groundbreaking from a technical aspect as well as highly versatile as more than just a tool of destruction, perhaps some progression could tie in too? And it would need to be thematically synonymous with the story of the game, and have a name with one profanity or obscene recommendation in it... So I guess what I'm saying is: the perfect video game weapon of all time is the Dildo bat from Saints Row 3. Mystery solved, riddle cracked.

Hyrule Warriors: Back to the Calamity

 Where it all began

I was never a fan of Dynasty Warrior style games back in the day, so as you can imagine Hyrule Warriors was already a bit of a tough sale. On paper it sounds exactly like my cup-of-tea, large-scale sweeping and dramatic battles that have the potential to shape the fate of entire nations, who doesn't want to be involved in something that cool? But it was execution that always rubbed me the wrong way. In my mind, the appeal of simulating big epic battles comes in standing shoulder to shoulder with your allies and being that one cog in the larger machine that decides the shape of the battle. In a way it's the apparent insignificance of your contribution that highlights the importance of your actions, you aren't special in anyway, just another solider on the front lines; but it's the combined sacrifice of so many that forms the very front lines you're fighting for. Sounds somewhat epic, right? Well if you've any familiarity with the style of Dynasty Warriors then you'll see my initial gripe right away.

Early Dynasty Warriors titles have this sort of style to them wherein the battles around you were merely backdrop for the player's 'One-man-army' style rampage through historic battles. Now admittedly this wasn't totally out of left field as these games did portray a purposefully stylised and overly dramatic version of historic and legendary battles, but it still didn't suit my personal style for the lord of the manor to go strutting out into the battlefield with a halberd and start slaying entire regiments with a single strike. (It just came across as odd.) Plus, I was never a fan of the way that in those games the player character and enemy lords were about 8 foot tall when compared to everyone else on the field, it made everything look like a child's playset with mismatched toys in the fray. So if all that's mostly the case, then why am I so excited for 'Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity'?

I'd say that a big part of that comes from 'Breath of the Wild' itself, the game who's cannon 'Age of Calamity' proposes to elucidate on, because that was a Zelda game that just perfectly hit everything I was looking for in that property. 'Breath of the Wild' was an open-world action adventure RPG title that delighted in showing players a beautiful world as much as it did letting players mess around in it. Quite simply it was an escapist's dream and sold it's premise beautifully with a mastery of world design that I'd say even rivals Rockstar in some ways. More than any other Zelda before it, 'Breath of the Wild' felt like a game for me, that perfectly wiggled itself into my preferences and everything I would want. Therefore when a game comes along threatening to expand upon the story of that specific Zelda world then you can bet I'm all in for it.

Thus I was ready and eager when I first heard about the demo for Hyrule Warriors which was headed our way and decided to give it a shot. (Whereas I never got the chance to try the original Hyrule Warriors, because of the whole 'Wii U being an abject failure that only 3 people and their dog bought' debacle) And right away I can say that the basics of Hyrule Warriors really do fix some of my gripes about Dynasty Warriors. Yes, you are still basically playing the one man army who does everything by themselves, but you are at least of a similar height to your fellow compatriots so you don't look absolutely ridiculous. (Although Link does do that 'anime protagonist' thing of being the only solider with his helmet off. That's just bad uniform maintenance, my man.) But what about the meat of the game itself?

Well from the demo it seems that the heart of Dynasty games remains untouched. The majority of the game revolves around felling large squadrons of enemies with little effort between slightly larger enemies who require more strategy and planning. I was worried going in that BoTW's slightly rudimentary combat system (which relied a lot more on ingenuity with resources rather than robust button combos) would have trouble shaping up but the team seems to have done a great job making that worry more than moot. Simple combos have been built into the game which, similar to Smash Bros, elude to the abilities in the main game (such as gliding, shield surfing and spin attacks) whereas the strategic part of player's arsenals come with the Sheikah slate which operates as a slightly more martial mirror of the original game's one. This makes for a surprisingly well thought-out system that had me working with different abilities more than I would in the few traditional dynasty warriors games that I played, (wherein in those I had to switch characters to feel diverse in combat) so I'm liking the gameplay a lot more than I thought I would.

Of course, me being me the thing that's really appealing to the ol' sensibilities is the way in which different characters are being bought to the forefront of the gameplay. Impa, who served as mostly a loremaster in Breath of the Wild, is playable as a incredibly fun-to-control ninja who's main abilities revolve around managing a sort of Shadow-jitsu that's every bit as badass as it sounds. Even Link, who's powers are mostly what you'd expect, seems to be tuned up to 11 in every attack in a manner that sort of reveals how rusty he really was after that 100 year nap. (I can only imagine how badly I'd react to stumbling into a Lizalfos den in BoTW, whereas here it's hardly an inconvenience at all.) Huge points go to the team in making it so that every single Sheikah Slate attack is handled different depending on the character in control, really driving home the need to mix and match characters for the right situation.

I see real potential for this game throughout the length of it's campaign, especially if the trailers are anything to go by. Letting us see the way that Link carves his place out amidst the legendary heroes of the ballads is enticing enough, but actually having the chance to play as these people who we've been but teased about up until now is exciting. Whatsmore, there'll even be some moments where the Divine Beasts will be under our control for the first time ever, really showcasing what these war platforms where capable of. Yes, a lot of what we've seen is huge fanservice, but I don't think there's anything wrong with that when it promises to be this cool and interesting to try out.

Obviously the majority of my, and everyone else's, excitement is fuelled by what this game represents. By going back and showing us the great war, 'Age of Calamity' is closing the book on the story of Breath of the Wild and leaving no lingering questions, perfectly opening up the way for a new story to launch in Breath of the Wild 2, or whatever it's going to be called. This is very much a stepping stone on the journey to part 2 and I want to be there for every second of it. I'm just glad we're seeing all this first hand in a game that's actually pretty fun rather than spending an entire game watching flashbacks about it. (I really wasn't a fan of the 'flashback' storytelling, I really hope it doesn't make a return)

Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity

So is Breath of the Wild a brand now?

I don't think I've really ever been invested enough to really pay attention to the sheer rate of Nintendo announcements before now, but I have to say: They move at crazy speed. First there was the Pokemon DLC reveal event which literally happened less than two weeks before launch, then 'The Origami King' which was less than a month out, and now a full blown prequel to a game we only thought was getting a sequel. I thought the whole 'announce the day before you go gold' strategy was Bethesda's patented routine. (But then again, since saying that we've only seen their main team release one bad Fallout game, so maybe their example isn't one to ever be lauded.) Either way, I must say that this is the most exciting announcement I've heard this year out of Nintendo and that's because Nintendo are heading my favourite among their brands, Zelda, to my personal 'best' of it's iterations, Breath of the Wild, to flesh out important events in this prequel: 'Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity'.

The Hyrule Warriors franchise (As I guess that's what it is now) goes back to that forgone relic of history known as the 'Wii U'. (Archaeologists still argue over what exactly that piece of antiquated tech was to this day.) Then it was an attempt to supplant the world of Zelda and transpose it into the same sort of game type as a typical Dynasty Warriors title, with their patented '1000 vs 1' gameplay that they go on about ad nauseam. Basically that means gameplay wound up being a hero unit turning around battles through the grace of their sweeping attacks and clever utilisation of magical powers. Honestly, this always did ring hollow for me whenever I played the Dynasty games, because I never liked the way that the sacrifice of hundreds constantly got whittled down to the efforts of one 8 foot man. (Never understood why the generals had to be so oversized either.) In the world of Zelda, however, this does make a lot more sense given the nature of Moblins and the heroes who defended the nature, so I honestly shocked to say that Hyrule Warriors does the genre better than it's namesake. (Unfortunately not many got a chance to play it because it was on the Wii U.)

Age of Calamity hopes to replicate that, but instead of use it as the grounds to tell a unique self-contained story, (which I think fit into the 'Twilight Princess' timeline if I recall correctly) this promises to go back and tell the climatic events of 100 years prior to Breath of the Wild; and I for one couldn't be more enthused. The legacy of Zelda is always played out as a reiteration upon the same formula with the reincarnations of the same people. Link and Zelda are reborn as different versions of the same characters destined to relive events for all eternity. (Or until Zelda gets her act together and disintegrates Ganon's primal form.) Now while this works great for being accessible, it does make it hard to build up a journey and development over multiple adventures because the characters always end-up invariably getting reset. What Age of Calamity, along with the upcoming Breath of the Wild Sequel, portend is a change upon that formula where this one Zelda and Link will go on multiple adventures and grow as they do, making for more satisfying arcs in the tales to come.

For those that can't quite remember Breath of the Wild's plot; that game took place 100 years after an event known as The Great Calamity wherein the kingdom of Hyrule was invaded by the ethereal force known as Calamity Ganon, who turned the might of the Sheikah technology against the heroes and used it to take over the kingdom. This ended with Link being severely hurt trying to protect Zelda and thus having to be stuck in a rejuvenation chamber for a whole century. (Damn, who made this chamber? Naminé?) The war was a time of heroes across all the nations coming together to fight for time as their Princess struggled to meet her destiny, (In vain, as it just so happens, because she would take another 100 years to get there) and the battles they fought against the armies of Ganon must have been legendary. Thus to get the chance at experiencing those legends is truly something to be excited for. (I so am.)

But with that excitement comes a little bit of bittersweet uncertainty, because I must stop and wonder if the very existence of this Age of Calamity doesn't invalidate the entire narrative of Breath of the Wild. One of the weakest parts of that masterpiece was it's plot and the way that Nintendo chose to tell it, not because it didn't have depth but because it focused itself on telling the events of 100 years prior thus robbing the present moment of urgency. It's only really once you face off against Calamity Ganon himself that you enter into the moment and feel like you're fighting for something, but that's literally at the end of the game. The mystery of uncovering the past was, then, the draw of the narrative, but if there's due to be an entire game living in that past then this plotline becomes redundant in about 2 months. (Perhaps evidence that it was weak plotline to put their weight on to begin with.)

Then there's the issue that I'll admit is a lot more of a personal gripe but I still feel is valid to bring up. When that trailer for Breath of the Wild 2 first dropped, as did my bowels, there were quite a few elements that blew me and everyone else away. There was the creepy factor to it all, the backwards singing, the fiery-haired corpse, the sheer excitement of a sequel, and the fact that this was Link travelling alongside Zelda. Finally! This would be the first time we got to play as Zelda (No, those games didn't exist; shut up.) But, as you can likely deduce, Zelda will be playable in November's Age of Calamity and she has the Sheikah plate moveset from the Breath of the Wild main game. It's not a huge point by any stretch of the imagination but it does rob some of the allure from getting to play as the Goddess' heir. (Yes I know she was playable in the original Hyrule Warriors but again- Wii U. IF a game is released on a Wii U and no one was around did it ever really release at all?)

Though on the otherhand I do like the way that having this game creates a Breath of the Wild trilogy in which we'll get to experience Link and, more importantly, Zelda at ever point of the character development. Link as a young prodigy and Zelda as a failing priestess destined for greatness but unable to bridge that gap. Then Link, still as a prodigy, and Zelda at her breakthrough moment battling Calamity Ganon for a century and living up to her birth rite. And then, in the hopefully not too distant future; Link as, yet again a prodigy, and Zelda as the adventurer she always wanted to be, finally reaching her dreams. (Huh, I'm starting to think we need a 'Legend of Link' game to flesh out our silent hero. He's hitting a little one-note lately.)

Age of Calamity excites me to a frankly unreal degree right now. I shouldn't be this pumped about a prequel to a genre that I don't even like that much, but I just adore Breath of the Wild so much that I cannot help but lose my mind at the chance to experience that beautiful world once more. (I literally just started replaying the game the week before this announcement; is that serendipity or what?) I am ecstatic for the precedent this sets for the Breath of the Wild timeline, and I know this is going to ultimately just make the wait for BOTW 2 absolutely unbearable. Dammit, Nintendo! I was angry at you last week and now I'm chomping at the bit for whatever you've got ready for us... I'm too weak...(Why can't I quit you!)

Worlds I want to live in: Part II

Like endless rain into a paper cup

You know, when I coined this blog concept it seemed like a innocent way to theorise on... oh who am I kidding; it was conceived as a surrender to the most basic draws of escapism. I suppose with all that is going on around the world right now, it's becoming ever more desirable to seek some new and fantastical life, even if only in the realms of our imagination. Some achieve this by putting aside some time and submerging themselves in a thrilling book; others like to find the hot new show of the week and lose themselves amidst a visual spectacle; and a few settle for playing 2016's DOOM for 15 hours straight. I, on the other-hand, do that last one and then come to this blog to pontificate about the many wild and fantastic worlds of video games and pop culture in general. Though many of these worlds are unrealistic, pomp-fuelled, death traps, somehow that still seems preferable to the one in which we currently reside. (Think that says more about myself than the worlds in question.)

Before I delve into the three titles for this entry, however, I should like to elaborate on some ground rules that I neglected to last time. The point of this exercise isn't to imagine what life would be like in the shoes of an immortal gallivanting hero, that sounds boring. Instead I want to think about what it would be like to live the life of a nobody in that space, with no powers, fame or secret destiny yet to be revealed. In that way I reinforce the idea that this is about the settings within which these stories are told rather than the characters. If that sounds sad and pathetic to you: Welcome to the blog, it's kinda like my thing. With that out of the way, let me challenge my own claim that this is a 'gaming blog' by diving into one Universe that predates all of it's significant games by quite a wide berth.

Okay, so the Star Wars Galaxy clearly didn't start out life on a console, but rather in the 1977 blockbuster which changed cinema forever. (For the better? Yeah, let's say for the better.) As most of you likely know if you've ever watched a single Star Wars property ever, the story takes place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. The Star Wars Universe is a diverse and alien galaxy positively brimming with so many distinct extraterrestrial species that new ones are introduced all the time and no one seems to bat an eye. Amidst and, inexplicably, on top of it all are the humans who seem to populate more worlds than any other species. These humans obviously don't hail from Earth, but all different alien worlds and thus are not the united force that one might see from the space dwelling humans of Mass Effect. Throughout the centuries the Galaxy has been ruled by the militaristic might of the Galactic Republic, although that memorably gave way to an empire for a generation or two. (And yet somehow the Galaxy accepted a 'New Republic' immediately afterwards. Why is it the more I think about the sequels the more frustrated they make me?) Perhaps the most notable aspect of this universe that makes it unique is the manner in which the natural order is governed my a mysterious spiritual force known as- well... the Force. This concept apparently lives in every single living being in the universe and can grant magical powers to those who learn to manipulate it. Okay, all caught up? Good, let's get to the hard part.

For you see, as Star Wars has existed for a great many years in the public zeitgeist, so too has existed a good many stories in the Star Wars universe taking place over a great many number of eras. (With the impending 'High republic' we have 4 canonical eras with a fifth one still pending on it's canonicity) So there's actually a decent number of factors one must take into account when picking a period of history within which to live, let alone a planet. Ultimately, however, I've settled for the Prequel Era and the planet of Taris. Although I could have just as easy chosen the Original Era, because Taris is such a back-water nowhere planet, yet surprisingly industrial, that one could feasibly live there indefinitely without having to worry about which tyrannical organisation decides to claim this planet as theirs. (Provided that you are human, of course. The Empire seem to have some unspoken racism amidst their ranks, so it's probably better not to tempt fate.)

On the bright side of coming to the Star Wars Galaxy, one can enjoy science fiction pleasures that are completely unrivalled by anything in the Milky Way, despite this series apparently taking place such a long time ago. There is instant space travel, personal droids, holograms literally everywhere and a mythical space magic with the power to wipe all life out from your planet if someone gets angry enough. (To be fair, that power was only ever used in KOTOR. So I'd say the chances of it being used again are slim.) Living in the rebuilt Taris would grant you all the luxuries that a Ecumenopolis would provide without you  having to worry polluting the atmosphere, because if things get too bad everyone can just move to another planet. Keep to yourself and you'll never even have to worry about the fall of the Jedi, or the corruption of the Galactic Republic, or the subsequent rise of the Galactic Empire, or the rise of the Rebel resistance, or that entire cycle repeating itself for the sequel series. (With any luck you'll have died by old age then anyway.)

Unfortunately, this is a series called 'Star Wars' so if there is one things you'll have to get used to, it's living in war times. (Because there's literally always a war happening.) Luckily, I think it's so common that the populace likely don't even bother converting to a war-time economy anymore, so it shouldn't impact your day-to-day. That is provided that you follow my earlier advice and keep your head firmly down, because the second that you start displaying any aptitude for any feasibly war-useful talent, such as medicine or engineering, you can expect to be drafted by the Empire or kidnapped by the Rebels. But then, even if you do manage to stay off of everyone's radar long enough to start a life in an exotic galaxy and get settled, then you'll get hit by the Galactic recession courtesy of the Rebels blowing up the single biggest, and most expensive, space station of all time. (I don't even want to think about the level of debt that the Emperor put his senate in to remake, and then lose, another Death Star.)

But let's leave Sci-fi behind for a bit and take a holiday somewhere a bit more whimsical. Somewhere were space magic gives way to good old traditional fairy magic. Of course, I'm talking by the classic land of Hyrule; setting of the vast majority of the 'The Legend of Zelda' games. This a land that was designed in everyway to be that fairy tale fantasy kingdom out of classic European fiction. (As translated through the mind of a Japanese man, of course.) This means that the land is a very uncomplicated monarchy ruled by the knife-earred Hylians who seem just enough. Their neighbour kingdoms, usually the Gerudo, Goron, Zora and Rito societies, generally seem to hold a well enough rapport with the Hylians and respect their sovereignty. Such makes sense, when you think about it, seeing as how their powers were literally divine granted by the three golden Goddesses who bless the land and make up the vertices of the legendary Triforce emblem.

Once again, The Legend of Zelda is a series that prides itself on re-envisioning, and quite a few of those remixes have changed the very makeup of the land of Hyrule. In fact, it's quite normal for the land to be so changed that the only familiar points of reference are the folk who inhabit it, not even the landmarks that one might have become familiar with. Heck, in one game the entire kingdom is entirely flooded and the people have become nomadic. In the end I choose to reside in the most recent incarnation of Hyrule, that which we saw in 'Breath of the Wild'. This is a world in which the forever resurrected avatars of the goddesses, Link and Zelda, (I think the Mastersword makes up the other triangle or something) have both vanished from the world after a perilous battle against the influence of Calamity Ganon. What follows is a hundred year slumber where the Hero must recover from their wounds in order to have a chance at saving the now-trapped Princess who struggles to keep Ganon at bay for all this time. What a perfect time for my villager to plop into, no?

On the plus side, whilst this may seem like a tumultuous time of shifting lands, in truth the greatest upset to the land of Hyrule is the loss of it's ruling class. Thanks to the tireless efforts of the Princess Zelda, (Who at this point should be Queen. Her Father is dead, hereditary rule makes her Queen. Someone teach Nintendo how royal succession works.) the many Moblin and undead demons of Calamity Ganon are suppressed from destroying the living world. So this means that you have close to 100 years of peace to enjoy the world of Hyrule, and what a world it is. Besides being as beautiful as a masterful painting in motion, Hyrule is a criminally peaceful place where folk seem to exist off the simple pleasures of the land. Every village boasts rolling fields of wheat and a modest farm, and magic ensures that the daily toil is never too overwhelming. The ingenuity of the Sheikah mean that even modern technology has come to this world, albeit in a distinctly 'steam-punk' fashion, and the gorgeous landscape makes it so that you'll be spoilt for choice on where to chose in order to live your peaceful life. Best of all, there's no upper class. You can live good for cheap.

Now come the problems. You see, whilst the land of Hyrule was immediately free from Ganon's minions, 100 years is a long time to hold out, even for a Princess. (Besides I can only assume she spent the majority of her power preserving her youth, seeing as how she hasn't seemed to have aged a day.) This means that as the years go by, the minions of Ganon will start to show up on your rolling green hills in increasing numbers. This hits a practical fever pitch by the end of Link's century-long nap, wherein every now and then a blood moon would rise, calling hundreds of deadly monsters upon your land. And the nuttiness doesn't even end there, as for some inexplicable reason the Yiga Clan, a group of Ninja's from Gerudo territory, start to become active in this time in the vein of kidnapping and replacing villagers. (Fingers crossed that ain't you.) Basically, things get so bad that you'll be unable to leave the village for fear of being brutally murdered and eaten, kidnapped or both. And if you think you're safe due to the fact that all this happens on year 100, think again. There are no humans in Hyrule, you see, which means the only way to successfully integrate would be to become a Hylian. Unfortunately, Hylains seem to have lifespans much longer than humans, and they would easily live through all the hardships of Calamity Ganon's wrath as well as relative peace in-between. So what's the altogether take-away? Hide for 50 years until Link comes and saves the land, then you can come out from under the bed and partake in all the wonders of Hyrule again.

We've gotten a bit too fictional of late, I think. Let us conclude with something a little more familiar, shall we? How about trying on Metal Gear's Earth for size? Metal Gear takes place in an Earth much like our own with a history very similar to our own; in fact, a lot of the big changes only come into the series post 20th century. Although any learned fans of the franchise might tell you that the first definitive point of divergence was during World War 2 when a team of frea- I mean 'Special forces soldiers' called Cobra Unit conducted several on-the-ground covert missions against the AXIS forces. After that war, the same folk who assembled the Cobra Unit decided to make a covert pact across nations to ensure that a World War would never happen again. These people were all oligarchs in their own right and so founded an influential cabal of super-rich elites with a hand on global politics called 'The Philosophers' (Because that's not pretentious at all.)

That is simply the most basic way that I can explain the background of Metal Gear's Story. (And bear in mind that every single bit of that lore was only introduced in the 3rd game of the Solid series. The fifth game overall. God knows what people thought was going on before then.) Aside from that, Metal Gear's Earth pretty much evolves alongside the real world with the exception that a great deal of our conspiracy theories throughout the years are real. (Kojimi didn't quite go hog with this concept like Deus Ex did, but he included his own version of the Illuminati so he clearly was interested in that field.) This really hits a zenith in 1964 after which every single world event has been in some way aiding the construction of autonomous nuke-toting war robots known as Metal Gears. Their existence still stay somewhat unknown to the public until 2009 when a giant underwater facility called Arsenal Gear built in order to tamper with the world news in order to shape the direction of society ended up crashing into Federal Hall on Manhattan Island. (This game was made in 2001 by-the-way. Yes, it's story was very much ahead of it's time.)

The good thing about living in the Metal Gear World is very much a matter of opinion, because it is essentially the same world as our own until 2009. Sure, there's cool secret projects happening, and the whole world nearly ended due to nuclear annihilation no less than three separate times, (That's in addition to the Cuban missile crisis) but all that has happened in the background whilst the vast majority of us have no idea what was going on. Even as clandestine forces look to seize control of the white house by installing their own man in office, all of it is above board in the eyes of the public, so life is business as usual. I suppose that some folk might enjoy such a world, personally I'm only in it for the negatives. (Because there's some positives there too.)

On the rougher side: After 2009, sometime in the next 5 years the world completely changes. As the wider world cottons onto the fact that technology is much further ahead than folk originally thought, there is a boom in commercially available goods. We're talking police robots, cybernetic limbs, adaptive camouflage, (okay, that last one might not be exactly 'commercial') the whole nine yards. Now upon first glance you could be forgiven for looking upon all these as positives, but in reality they're all just tools which 'the Patriots' (who are the remnants of 'The Philosophers'. Long story.) use to gain control over the world. Wars are now fought with their weapons, in locations that they dictate with the number of causalities that they want; cities are policed to their specified standards and practically every public commodity in the world has a backdoor for them to seize control with. (Including guns. So you can't even shoot at them.) If you're one of the 'privacy is key' types, than welcome to your own personal hell. For folk like me, at least it'll mean that the Internet infrastructure will finally be sorted out. Afterall, how is Big Patriot gonna spy on us effectively without a crystal clear 5G connection?

So that's my, rather practical, assessment of three video game worlds that I would want to live in, given the chance. (For better or for worse.) This time I did take into account the events of the game as it pertained to the state of the world a bit more, because I feel like it's quite fun that way. That being said, the last three I have stored us should be quite interesting to sift through, especially since one of my all time favourite games will be bought up in it. (Although I did just bring up my all time favourite game in this blog, so don't take that as a guarantee of quality.)

Difficulty Settings in video games

Mein Leben!

The world of video gaming is a diverse one, welcoming in a variety of folk from every corner and walk of life. Thus is the appeal of entertainment, as anyone can theoretically take part without having to succumb to worries about what they physically capable of or qualified to do. Of course, disability aids are only just starting to hit the main stream, but that's not what this blog is about. You see, as I have mentioned before, one of the most universal tools for generalizing game audiences to as many folk as possible is the inclusion of a difficulty selection. Which just so happens to be the topic which I intend to delve into with today's blog.

In the age when games began hitting the home market, there started a shift in the development priority of those games. Previously, as many games were designed for the arcade, developers had to strike a careful balance between games that were fun enough to keep folk coming back and difficult enough for them to not be able to beat it easily. Through this method developers could maximize profits for the arcade, therefore increasing the marketability of their software. In fact, some games were specifically designed to be unbeatable for this very reason, hooking players on the promise of an impossible task. Although, this wasn't as deceitful as it may sound, as this was how video games existed back then; there were no endings, just brief fun-packed play sessions.

Obviously, that dynamic had to change once video games started entering the home. Now people no longer had to pay per session and only had to buy the thing once, meaning that developers could create a finite experience for people to enjoy. Now they just had to ensure the game was good enough to keep their name in people's mind for the next time that they're game hunting. (A philosophy that survives to this very day.) It was somewhere along the evolution of this particular development method that the question of 'accesibility' began to crop up in the Dev room. Games were still rather difficult in general and that realistically limited the potential customer base for the budding medium, meaning that it was in everyone's best interest to start to open up gaming.

The home market ushered in many quality-of-life improvements to gaming as well as broadening the scope of games that could be made. Now games no longer had to be designed for quick play sessions but could be long form and require multiple sessions in order to complete. (hence the advent of the 'save' functionality thanks to 1986's The Legend of Zelda.) It is hard to determine exactly when difficulty settings were 'invented', so to speak, but we can see their blueprints as early back as 1980 with 'Adventure' for the Atari 2600. In 'Adventure', players were presented with three dungeons to go through, each larger than the last. Through this concept, players who were unfamiliar and not confidant with this new type of game could ease into it with the easier dungeon before diving into the harder ones once they got a footing. A very simple premise but one that would shape the development of video games significantly for the next few decades.

Once the Xbox and Playstation had begun to hit the market, coming up to the turn of the millennium, it was starting to become a common practice for video games to always have the 3 standard choices of difficulty. 'Easy, Normal and Hard' became as common a site to the average gamer as 'press any button to start', for difficulty settings had grown from a quirk into a development requirement. On a positive note, this opened up gaming to lower skilled individuals and allowed everyone a chance at the fun, however there were a few repercussions. Anyone who was an active gamer in the early 2000's knows the stigma that was attached to playing on the 'easy' difficulty, as it is the same sort of stigma that lingers around any activity with slight skill-based leanings. Now, I'm not about to discuss the folly of 'skill-based' worth-assignment in communities, I haven't got the patience, but I will summarize that this divide caused a whole lot of senseless noise for no real gain. (Good job, early 2000's gamers.)

There is a conversation of relevance to be had there, however, regarding whether or not one is playing the 'full experince' depending on the difficulty that they choose. And I mean that in regards to lower and higher difficulties. Modern games are, afterall, meticulously balanced in order to ensure that players can enjoy themselves without becoming too frustrated whilst simultaneously not breezing through everything without a care in the world (at least in the generally accepted theories on standard game design) which makes the task of creating difficulty settings a very daunting one. Devs are required to mess with the game's balance whilst maintaining balance to ensure that all players have a comparable experience, it's like handing weights to a tight rope walker, eventually somethings gotta give. During this age it became a common criticism to accuse Devs of lazy difficulty settings, wherein they just cranked up/ down a setting as seemed necessary, creating a dull or frustrating experience for those on any difficulty other than normal.

Some developers combated this uneven difficulty disparity by throwing in some more clever systems into their games such as Dynamic Game Difficulty Balancing or DGDB. One such team who worked on these mechanics was the world-famous Capcom team on their weird horror/action hybrid 'Resident Evil 4'. As many will likely know, Resident Evil 4 did not shed the series patented difficulty settings, but they did update it with a smart dynamic twist. As the player derives much of their supplies from crates, as well as the environment, and isn't lingering in areas, as was the status quo with earlier games, the team could use the map to spawn in supplies as they were needed. Therefore, if you are struggling or dying a lot, you'll find more ammo and curatives at the next item spawn point. These systems are so useful, in fact, that you'll find RE4 speedrunners intentionally plunging themselves off of cliffs in order to trigger the extra supply drops and make the run easier. Through this, the team allowed players to play how they wanted whilst relieving the potential frustration that could occur, all without telling the player what was happening. (Very sly, Capcom!)

Of course, at some point the entire concept of 'diffculties' became a little bit outdated as we moved into the modern age. Developers were growing sick of having to fine tune their fine tuning and gamers were bored of being constantly ridiculed for their difficulty choices, and so the whole system started to be slowly faded out. In the modern age we only really see those systems pop up in heavily skill-based games wherein people would be absolutely eviscerated without a 'training' mode, such as racing games and strategy games. But the action/adventure genre, which is a genre that is now totally owned by the triple A, tends to shirk such systems altogether. that being said, there are still some Developers who stubbornly stick to their ways, such as RPG Devs, but little effort goes into the actual development of 'diffculty' modes and they usually just end up being very arbitrary additions.

Personally, as a self-confessed masochist, I have always selected the hardest difficulty of any game I play for my first time. (Afterall, If I'm only going to play through this game once, I might as well experience everything.) As such I find myself a little saddened to see difficulty settings slowly phase out of gaming as we moved towards more homogenized experiences. Some of my favourite gaming memories have been about pushing against an immovable wall of difficulty until it eventually gave way, and I feel that something in that has been lost in the current regime. At least we'll always have RPG's difficulty settings, that's one system that traditionalists will never let Devs kill.

New and improved

So is this a prequel to Omega Man or...

The other day I was walking down the street, (Huh, unintentional Arthur) and I happened upon a movie poster that really made me stop and stare. This wasn't because the strength of the marketing material, rather the opposite actually. This was a movie that was starring Will Smith, was soon to come out, and this poster was the first I'd seen of it. Even now, with the thing out, I'm still yet to see a trailer. (How little did you guys leave your marketing team with?) It seemed particularly noteworthy given that the movie boasted the enviable gimmick of pitting Will Smith against Will Smith for some reason. (Again, haven't seen a trailer so I don't have context.) However, I was curious enough, from the poster, to look up how and why this movie exists.

I discovered that this film, Gemini Man, was making use of de-aging technology in order to have a modern day version of Will Smith battle against a version of him that looks like he just walked off the set of Fresh Prince. (Okay, he doesn't look that young.) This makes sense giving that the 'wow' tech of modern years has been the systems that can be make actors digitally appear younger in a convincing way. Just look at Disney's attempts in 'Civil War', 'Antman & the Wasp' and 'Endgame'; as well as... Disney's work in 'Star Wars: Rogue One'. (I guess The House of Mouse are really the ones pushing this, now I think about it.) All this got me thinking about the idea of going back and sprucing things up, whether it be an actor's face, an old film's picture quality, or an entire franchise. With that in mind, let's talk about remasters. (No, you're a weak segueway!)

Ask any film fan about their feelings towards reboots and re-releases and you'll likely hear the same response across the board. "I don't why studios keep rehashing the same ideas instead of doing something new. It's just a waste of time, money and talent." (Those same people will then proceed to watch those movies.) There is a slightly different sentiment when it comes to how these things are handled in games. We've yet to get a significant full-blown reboot in the video game market (With the exception of, perhaps, 'Bionic Commando' and 'Sonic Boom'), but we have certainly seen a lot of remasters, re-releases and a few remakes, especially as we're nearing the twilight of this console generation. Gamers are, therefore, more forgiving to some approaches whilst more critical in others.

Firstly, there are the re-releases. These are always a celebrated event when it comes to film. It's the chance for modern movie goers to experience an event in cinematic history that they may have missed out on long ago. Fans can see cult classics like 'Back to the Future', 'The Godfather' and 'Apocalypse Now' on a theatre screen like they were meant to be seen. There isn't a movie fan alive who wouldn't get a little giddy as such a prospect. For gaming, on the otherhand, re-releases are something a lot more cynical. Game releases are never a huge event beyond being the point at which the public can finally get their hands on the software. When those games come back around for a re-release, it's usually just an excuse for the studios to update some minor things and slap it back on store shelves for full price. (In that sense, I guess it's a celebratory event for the accountants.)

We see this for games like 'Dishonored: Definitive edition' and the constant Nintendo reduxes of 'Ocarina of Time'. These are situations in which the company has decided that they need to re-establish their game's value and rake in the same sort of money that they originally saw. This is often the case when a new Console generation has launched and it doesn't support backwards compatibility. (Or it does support backward compatibility and they just knowingly opt out of the process so they can make a quick buck.) Defenders will often point to slight graphical improvements as justification, but I chose the above two games for a reason. 'Dishonored: Definitive edition' is a game that is attempting to impprove upon a highly stylized original product, to very little avail. The only noticeable improvement is a frame rate bump, and that is hardly worth £60. For Zelda, on the otherhand, Nintendo don't even touch the frame rate. (It's part of the charm, I guess.) All they do is touch up the controls, fix a decades old design decision every now and then, and slap a heavy price tag on the box. In gaming, we use the term 're-release' to refer to the laziest form of a company capitalizing on your nostalgia.

Remasters are a slight step up from Re-releases, although their quality can vary greatly. Once again, these usually crop up when a game becomes inaccessible, due to an across-the-board hardware upgrade, and the primary concern is ensuring the product is playable once again. However, game companies sometimes decide that they want to take advantage of the new tech available, or they have to in order to make the thing function, and so we get these 'improved' products labelled 'remasters'.

The problem is that sometimes these 'remasters' get the things we love about the original wrong. Final Fantasy X/X-2 HD went the graphical improvement route, only to sacrifice some of the advanced graphical integrity of the original. Sure it looks better when all you do is count pixels, but the artistic merit sometimes suffers. This is because these remasters are usually not handled by the same people who made the original and sometimes not even the same studio. It's like asking members of the public to restore a faded painting, sometimes you get what you want and sometimes you were better off living it alone. One game in which this was certainly the case was the 'Return to Arkham' remasters of 'Arkham Asylum' and 'Akham City'. There are countless examples of the way how almost every character model in the game were uglied in the pursuit of 'graphical improvement'. (With the exception of Harley Quinn, who got so much attention put into her it makes me wonder about the priories of the team responsible.) Just look at the comparison between the different version's of the iconic Hugo Strange interrogation scene from the beginning of  'Arkham City.'

Finally, and most rarely, we have the remake, which is the closest thing to a reboot we have in the gaming industry. This is when a gaming company makes the decision to go back to one of it's beloved classics and rebuild it from the ground up, with new textures, gameplay, story, VA's and just about everything really. To be honest, we see so many changes in these projects that they might as well be called 'reimagineings'. But Hollywood managed to make that term sound excessively wishy-washy so we'll stick with remake. This is probably the easiest to respect out of the examples of re-releases in the gaming market, as it is the process in which Devs put the most effort and thought into and truly do earn that price tag.

Capcom have dabbled in the remake territory before, with the decent 2001 remake of the original Resident Evil and the spectacular 2019 remake of Resident Evil 2. Both these games show examples of games that are deigned to capture the spirit of the original, but still take things in a different direction. Resident Evil 2 (2019) even goes so far so to restructure the fundamental game in order to better fit modern game design conventions. Square Enix also hope to jump onto the bandwagon soon with their Final Fantasy 7 Remake, which ditches the semi-turn based style of the original in favour of a full action game approach. Major story beats have been changed or reshuffled in order to accommodate for a brand new episodic structure which is going to have us RPG fans reliving the story of Cloud until 2025. (At least.) Unlike with movie remakes, these remakes are not attempting to replace the original product, rather celebrate everything that those games got right and present a new way that they could have been handled. (Now for the love of god remake MGS 3, Konami. Please!)

Some may look at these practises and conclude that they are examples of the game industry moving backwards rather than forwards, and in a way they would be right. But art, as a whole, is a medium in which you can revisit the pieces you love time and time again and find something new and special. That makes it as much about looking back as it does about looking forward. And considering how every game is devolving into a 'live-service' abomination of late, it helps to take a look back at the classics of old and remind ourselves why it is that we love games in the first place.