Castlevania holds a special place in my gaming heart. Back in the NES days, I spent many an hour fighting evil in the first Castlevania, solving the puzzles of Simon's Quest, and enjoying the branching paths of the third entry. The series has had its ups and downs since then; and I certainly haven't played every title in the series, but I've managed to fight my way through most of them. None, however, completely captures my attention and respect more than Symphony of the Night does. It is the ultimate Castlevania title, and it will be a special day when (and if) Konami can trump this masterpiece.
The earlier entries in the series were some solid and fun action/platformers (with a sprig of RPG thanks to Simon's Quest), but it was cozying up to the Metroid formula that gave the series the edge it needed to make a more lasting impression. Recently, as I began playing through it once again, I was a little apprehensive that the pixelated visuals would get in the way of the classic fun I remembered. However, after chopping through some zombies and getting my equipment yoinked by Death himself, I was ready to scour the depths, heights and in-betweens of Dracula's castle.
Castlevania's music is always the first thing that grabs my attention when I begin a new installment, and going back to this old title was still an aural treat. It's a curious mix of metal, stringed orchestral, and even dirge-like themes sung by solemn choirs. Each main area of the castle has its own tune, and even the least memorable of the mix is still a standout tune. I would definitley enjoy listening to the soundtrack even when not playing the game itself - I like it that much.
As I said above, I was a little afraid the aged visuals wouldn't appeal to me quite as much as they used to; however, unlike most PSone era games that have aged very poorly, this title still holds that nostalgic feel that old 8-bit and 16-bit games hold. As a matter of fact, I made a point to turn off the smoothing option on my PS3 just to enjoy all those pixels. It's surprising how much detail and animation can be conveyed by all those little colored boxes when they're arranged just right. That said, the interior and the few exterior areas of the castle are still a joy to look at after all these years. You'll find your view sometimes obstructed by a creeping mist, and climbing to the heights of the castle rewards you with a view of clouds zipping by at breakneck speed (it's an odd effect, but still awesome to see). If you find yourself playing through this gem, be sure to look closely at the backgrounds - these are talented artists and level designers, so there's a lot of detail that a speedy gamer may miss.
Not only is it still nice to look at in that retro sort of way, but the game is fun as crap to play. On top, it's your straight-up action/platformer - attack, jump, block, it's all pretty standard. The game deviates from mere simplicity, however, by letting the player turn into either mist, a bat, or a wolf. Taking things up even another notch, the player can also cast magic spells that heal, throw fireballs, etc., by inputting combos with the d-pad a la Street Fighter. While it was nice to have magic at my disposal, I often found myself hacking away with the standard attack and utilizing the classic Castlevania secondary weapons (dagger, holy water, axe). Not to say the spellcasting didn't work or wasn't useful, it's just a matter of personal preference. Of course, I'd be doing the game a disservice by not mentioning the familiars you can obtain. In my playthrough I found a fairy, a skull, a small demon(my favorite), and a bat. I'd be hardpressed to say they're extremely useful; however, my fairy found a few secret areas, and my demon... well, he would stab things and yell "Die!", which I dare anyone to say isn't awesome.
Of course, this yummy cake of a game wouldn't be complete without character leveling and more items than you can shake a whip at (a weapon that is sadly omitted from this entry, by the way). There's just something inherently satisfying as you see those words, "Level Up", flash across the screen, and then picking up an item you've never seen before. And speaking of the latter, the game hands out new weapons and armor like candy. I was constantly going into my inventory to examine a new item, weighing the benefits of one attribute over another for the sake of more power or more defense. Honestly, after collecting so many different items, it did seem a bit like overkill as many pieces were similar in appearance and attributes; although, the useful pieces were always awesome and I enjoyed being able to customize my character to that extent.
If you haven't noticed, I really liked this game. The fact that the gameplay is still so enjoyable today is a testament to its stellar design; in fact, I'd venture to say this game is a timeless classic and can only pray that an eventual remake doesn't sully the experience for those new to the series. If you haven't tried this game, check it out on PSN and Xbox Live, or locate the original PSone disc for that true old-school feel. If a mix of platforming, action, and vampires named Shaft sounds appealing to you, this a great place to introduce yourself to one of gamings great franchises.
Random thoughts on video games and the industry.
Obligatory Gamercards
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Why Horror Games Don't Need to be Scary
After many an hour spent in Silent Hill through its various iterations, as well as other horror titles, I have a fairly high bar for what I believe makes a good horror game. Lately, though, I have come to realize that the bar either needs lowered, or that I need another bar for different types of horror games. I've come to realize that only very rarely will my standard for "supremely poo-producing" titles be met. Basically, I've come to realize that not all horror games need to be scary.
Let's start at the beginning (mine, anyway). The first Resident Evil genuinely scared me. It had creepy music, zombies, and it was freaking three dimensional! The fact that the game eventually turned into an action game much further in was overshadowed by the fact that I hadn't experienced anything like it before. It was all fresh, and it was all scary. The second and third entries in this series were still a little nerve-wracking, though the novelty was beginning to wear off.
Then along came a game called Silent Hill. A friend of mine was playing it one evening, and I was blown away by the flashlight mechanic. I soon picked up a copy for myself and knew there was something special going on there. It was the first time I actually began to view the game environment as a character in itself. The disturbing music, the Jacob's Ladder inspired empty wheelchairs and rust-covered walls, the sound effects... they all joined together to create a ubiquitous evil that followed poor Harry everywhere he (I) ran. The following two entries in the series were just as satisfying to me.
Of course, new Resident Evil games were popping up in the form of Code Veronica, the Gamecube remake of the original, the prequel Resident Evil Zero - the list goes on. I always became excited at a new RE announcement, and played each new entry happily; but something was missing. Didn't Resident Evil used to scare me? Because it surely didn't any longer. I'll admit, the first village in RE4 was a revelation in horror gaming for me. The sheer number of enemies, the decrepit houses, and let's not forget Leatherface, gave me chills I'd never had before while gaming. But once this opening sequence was past and I had fought scores of infected, the repetition of shoot, turn and run, turn and shoot and so on had taken most of the scare out of the game.
I should have seen it coming, though. Think about it: Up until Resident Evil 4, technology just didn't allow for too many bombastic moments, but the premise certainly hinted at a future full of spectacle. It began on a small scale - a mansion, claustrophobic underground laboratories, a small group of people slowly unraveling the various evils of the massive Umbrella Corporation. Isn't it only natural that a group of people bent on taking down such a corporation have a future full of explosions and, well, action? Umbrella isn't some unknown evil seething through every crack in the wall and gaping maw that used to be a street (ahem, Silent Hill). Umbrella is a tangible thing, run by someone, with an army infected henchmen ready to blow up, shoot, and sometimes bite anyone willing to stand against them. And with current technology, Chris and the gang can traverse larger environments and blow up whatever the hell they please. The great spectacle that will surely ensue once Umbrella gets taken down is now possible. Kudos to Capcom for all the creepy enemies and jump scares, but Resident Evil will likely always be more action than horror from here on out.
This isn't a criticism of the franchise, because I still love the hell out of these games, but more of an acceptance that good horror can still be derived from action-based games. This concept really hit me when I completed Dead Space 2 recently. I have heard many people complain that Dead Space 1 and 2 (as well as RE 4 and 5) just aren't scary. This is the camp that usually loves the Silent Hill games, and also the more recent Amnesia for PC. I'll be honest here - this is my camp, sort of.
Like I stated above, though, my recent revelation hit just after completing Dead Space 2. You know what happened right before the credits rolled? I laughed out loud, and was genuinely satisfied with the experience I just had. If you've played Dead Space 1 and 2, you'll know why I laughed at the end. I won't ruin it for anyone else. What I'd like to get across here, is that while these games certainly have a killer atmosphere and creepy enemies, the sense of impending doom I feel when playing Silent Hill 2 and Amnesia just isn't there; and I'm okay with that. While Amnesia delivers crushing melancholy and despair, Dead Space delivers quick thrills and a frantic struggle to stay alive.
It's the difference between your Eraserheads/Jacob's Ladders and Alien/Halloweens. All of those could be considered horror movies, though they deliver very different types of horror. Sure, I prefer the "smarter", slower-paced horror games; but I can't expect every horror experience to make me feel the same way. What we have, instead of "true" horror games and games that "just aren't scary", is variety - and I'm not about to complain about that.
Let's start at the beginning (mine, anyway). The first Resident Evil genuinely scared me. It had creepy music, zombies, and it was freaking three dimensional! The fact that the game eventually turned into an action game much further in was overshadowed by the fact that I hadn't experienced anything like it before. It was all fresh, and it was all scary. The second and third entries in this series were still a little nerve-wracking, though the novelty was beginning to wear off.
Then along came a game called Silent Hill. A friend of mine was playing it one evening, and I was blown away by the flashlight mechanic. I soon picked up a copy for myself and knew there was something special going on there. It was the first time I actually began to view the game environment as a character in itself. The disturbing music, the Jacob's Ladder inspired empty wheelchairs and rust-covered walls, the sound effects... they all joined together to create a ubiquitous evil that followed poor Harry everywhere he (I) ran. The following two entries in the series were just as satisfying to me.
Of course, new Resident Evil games were popping up in the form of Code Veronica, the Gamecube remake of the original, the prequel Resident Evil Zero - the list goes on. I always became excited at a new RE announcement, and played each new entry happily; but something was missing. Didn't Resident Evil used to scare me? Because it surely didn't any longer. I'll admit, the first village in RE4 was a revelation in horror gaming for me. The sheer number of enemies, the decrepit houses, and let's not forget Leatherface, gave me chills I'd never had before while gaming. But once this opening sequence was past and I had fought scores of infected, the repetition of shoot, turn and run, turn and shoot and so on had taken most of the scare out of the game.
I should have seen it coming, though. Think about it: Up until Resident Evil 4, technology just didn't allow for too many bombastic moments, but the premise certainly hinted at a future full of spectacle. It began on a small scale - a mansion, claustrophobic underground laboratories, a small group of people slowly unraveling the various evils of the massive Umbrella Corporation. Isn't it only natural that a group of people bent on taking down such a corporation have a future full of explosions and, well, action? Umbrella isn't some unknown evil seething through every crack in the wall and gaping maw that used to be a street (ahem, Silent Hill). Umbrella is a tangible thing, run by someone, with an army infected henchmen ready to blow up, shoot, and sometimes bite anyone willing to stand against them. And with current technology, Chris and the gang can traverse larger environments and blow up whatever the hell they please. The great spectacle that will surely ensue once Umbrella gets taken down is now possible. Kudos to Capcom for all the creepy enemies and jump scares, but Resident Evil will likely always be more action than horror from here on out.
This isn't a criticism of the franchise, because I still love the hell out of these games, but more of an acceptance that good horror can still be derived from action-based games. This concept really hit me when I completed Dead Space 2 recently. I have heard many people complain that Dead Space 1 and 2 (as well as RE 4 and 5) just aren't scary. This is the camp that usually loves the Silent Hill games, and also the more recent Amnesia for PC. I'll be honest here - this is my camp, sort of.
Like I stated above, though, my recent revelation hit just after completing Dead Space 2. You know what happened right before the credits rolled? I laughed out loud, and was genuinely satisfied with the experience I just had. If you've played Dead Space 1 and 2, you'll know why I laughed at the end. I won't ruin it for anyone else. What I'd like to get across here, is that while these games certainly have a killer atmosphere and creepy enemies, the sense of impending doom I feel when playing Silent Hill 2 and Amnesia just isn't there; and I'm okay with that. While Amnesia delivers crushing melancholy and despair, Dead Space delivers quick thrills and a frantic struggle to stay alive.
It's the difference between your Eraserheads/Jacob's Ladders and Alien/Halloweens. All of those could be considered horror movies, though they deliver very different types of horror. Sure, I prefer the "smarter", slower-paced horror games; but I can't expect every horror experience to make me feel the same way. What we have, instead of "true" horror games and games that "just aren't scary", is variety - and I'm not about to complain about that.
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