October 4th

Posted by Kris Ligman in This Week in Videogame Blogging: - (Comments Off on October 4th)

Ahh, it’s finally October. Days are getting shorter, and the temperature is finally dropping enough that I have to close my windows at night. I’m sure it’ll be blazing hot for IndieCade though! It always is.

Enough about the weather, though. Let’s talk about what’s happening in the world of games discourse. It’s This Week in Videogame Blogging!

I’ll Take My Steak Medium-Rare, Thanks

You may have heard a few rumblings over Twitter about a dispute between Star Citizen lead Chris Roberts and an unsatisfied former backer (and some anonymous former employees, and a news site). Fellow industry veteran Damion Schubert provides a good recap and offers his own (as always, even-handed) take of the situation.

Elsewhere, on the newest Critical Switch, Austin C. Howe argues that the same “immaturity” which stigmatizes games is also common in more respectable media like film and books (audio) — so why do we treat the latter as so much more legitimate?

Down In the Nitty-Gritty

At PopMatters Moving Pixels, Scott Juster digs into how Metal Gear Solid 5: The Phantom Pain‘s prologue teaches the player the nuances of crawling. Meanwhile, at Kill Screen, Chris Priestman profiles game designer Pippin Barr’s latest work, an anthology of Breakout derivations which reveal the “fragility” of game design.

At his devlog, Lars Doucet slams the shoddy Final Fantasy V port which recently hit the Steam storefront, criticizing its lazy ‘update’ of the game’s original graphics. Doucet goes into detail not just on better methods for upscaling games to HD resolutions, but some of the tools used to do so as well.

Beyond ‘Empathy’

At The Psychology of Video Games, Jamie Madigan explains the Kuleshov Effect, a cinematic device also found in games that leaves players interpreting a series of images. Elsewhere, in Gamasutra’s Expert Blogs, Laralyn McWilliams makes the argument that while multiplayer online games are accustomed to allowing players a range of emotional expressions, single-player games often stunt an emotional response:

Most single-player games start a conversation with players and then leave them emotionally stranded. We handle pivotal character moments in cutscenes, or when they’re in live gameplay we leave players only able to run, jump, or crouch. We’re creating a culture where the expected — and only — response to emotional moments is mute acceptance.


To that extent, single-player games have a culture of emotional isolation that goes beyond the fact that you’re playing them by yourself. I believe that’s a large part of the popularity of live Let’s Play video feeds: the person playing can finally express the emotions provoked by a game in a setting where someone’s listening — because the game clearly isn’t. Isn’t that a mistake in an interactive medium?

Meanwhile, the newest issue of Well Played is out, via Carnegie Mellon University ETC Press. This issue, which can be downloaded for free, includes articles on The Walking Dead, DotA 2, and an academic study on the limits of “empathy games.”

This is a subject also on the mind of veteran designer and author Anna Anthropy, who decries the term “empathy game” as a facile device to avoid real engagement with oppression:

Empathy Game is about the farce of using a game as a substitute for education, as a way to claim allyship. […] Being an ally takes work, it requires you to examine your own behavior, it is an ongoing process with no end point. That people are eager to use games as a shortcut to that, and way to feel like they’ve done the work and excuse themselves from further educating themselves, angers and disgusts me. You don’t know what it’s like to be me.

The Map and the Territory

On Medium, Rowan Kaiser praises The Witcher 3‘s open world design, contending that the dynamic way it handles quests makes for a far more interesting environment than either Skyrim or Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Elsewhere, on her personal tumblr, Carolyn Petit lauds the road trip game Wheels of Aurelia for furnishing the player an interior life for its women characters:

These conversations are not the stuff of what some might nonsensically dismiss as games writing with a political agenda, but rather an example of writing that acknowledges that life as individuals and as women within social systems is inherently political, and that women actually talk about their lives in ways that recognize this. If you don’t think women actually talk about these sorts of things, you get too many of your ideas about women from movies and television.

Finally, with a more literal take on the subject header, Eron Rauch is back on Videogame Tourism this week continuing his series on demystifying MOBAs, this week analyzing the play maps and tactics in the ‘big three’ of the genre: DotA 2, League of Legends and Heroes of the Storm.

Breathe In, Breathe Out

There were quite a few pieces this week on The Beginner’s Guide, the new title by The Stanley Parable creator Davey Wreden, but I am holding onto them until I play through it myself. I don’t usually do this — I’ve just come to accept spoilers go with the territory in this job — but I’ve tried my darnedest to follow the essays without knowing the content of the game and it’s proven fairly impossible (perhaps intentionally).

So! Until then, I leave you with this short, relaxing montage of empty videogame environments in the rain (video). Ahhh… So nice…

Until Next Time

Thank you to everyone who sent something in this week! These roundups are made better by your contributions. Remember, we welcome self-submissions, and also encourage you to submit on behalf of those who might be too shy to do so on their own! Hit us up in email or by mentioning us on Twitter.

The September edition of Blogs of the Round Table, covering the topic “Maps,” has now wrapped up and is ready for your reading. Be sure to check out October’s prompt as well, “Leadership“!

This past week also brought us a new podcast minisode, featuring Paste’s Gita Jackson. Be sure to have a listen!

Critical Distance is proud to be entirely funded by readers like you. If you enjoy our features, please consider pledging your support on Patreon or Recurrency!

September 13th

Posted by Eric Swain in This Week in Videogame Blogging: - (Comments Off on September 13th)

Shake off the rust and welcome one and all to another edition of This Week In Video Game Blogging!


In continuation to the previous pieces of Hot Ryu, Mattie Brice looks at what the simple addition of a beard says about us when compared with the correct cultural context of masculinity projection, in this case ‘lumbersexuality.’

Our own Riley MacLeod feels lost in the normative body types of video games and looks at the differences apparent in stealth games and their “queer masculinity” at Offworld. Then, Todd Harper picks up the torch and in light of a rather disgusting video applies the same lens toward fat characters.


(Content Warning: discussion of rape.)

Alisha Karabinus, at Not Your Mama’s Gamer, decides to take the psudo-science explanation of Quiet’s state of dress on its face and instead explore the poor execution of its presentation. She laments that there was potential even in the ludicrousness of it that gets lost in the shuffle of its more obvious detrimental aspects.

Emma Boyle was much less diplomatic in her piece on Gadgette, blasting the explanation as more of an excuse to do more of the same. Starting from the same place with many of the same arguments, wundergeek of Go Make Me a Sandwich blog follows the train of thought through to the concept of rape and how it has ceased to be edgy a long time ago and we as a culture have proved we are not responsible to handle it.

(End content warning section.)

A Woman’s Perspective

Jordan Wood continues in Part 2 of the critical series of The Witcher 3 by examining the Bloody Baron quest. Wood feels that there is a severe deficiency of nuance and observation in examination of the sexual politics of modern video games and seeks to correct that through example.

At Not Your Mama’s Gamer, Bianca Batti looks at Until Dawn as through the lens of the horror genre and what it says about representation and the illusion of choice. Meanwhile, Alex Layne recommends we look to history for the next step of women “transgressing male spaces.”

Lena LeRay goes back to Final Fantasy X-2, a game she saw as unnecessary and somewhat detrimental to the story of FFX, and looks at it from a different angle, as a story about a woman dealing with grief and coming to terms with loss.

Anna Anthropy’s newest release, Ohmygod Are You Alright? inspired Chris Priestman to examine the sequel to Dys4ia and see what it says about the developer’s opinion on the so-called empathy game genre.

Level Design

Scott Juster of PopMatters feels that while the level design of Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture is a lovely example of space, it is ruined by the slow speed at which you move through it, creating a disconnect and resentment of the level. They mechanic and space were not properly built for one another.

Andrew Yoder of Mclogeblog looks at the Thief‘s series of in-game maps and what they express bout spaces and how they what behavior they facilitate.

Mike Stout tries to dissuade the normal responses that come up when he says he wants to talk about training players and expand the understanding beyond poorly made tutorials into the necessary practice of teaching the player how to play.

Meanwhile, Eurogamer managed a sit down with Shigeru Miyamoto and Takashi Tezuka to talk about the iconic level 1-1 of Super Mario Bros. (video) And Jon Irwin at Paste Magazine has a bit of fun with the Top 20 2D Mario levels of all time.


Eve Golden Woods of Women Writes About Comics, looks at Silverstring Media’s The Dusty Dead, a narrative personality quiz that doesn’t have an original property to be based on and how that changes the experience.

On Critical Hit, Ceba looks at Infinifactory‘s critique of factory farm meat through the mechanics it has been using all along benignly. They wondered if it was intentional and so asked the developer. It was indeed.

Pam at her blog Cannot Be Tamed asked about something she doesn’t get about how we talked about games, namely the idea of a game or possibly the player respecting their time and what value our reaction to our activities place on it.

Don’t use the N-word in gaming: sound advice and the subject of Chris Spivey’s piece. He doesn’t want the word banned and sees its necessary to not hide, in other mediums, but finds it’s different in gaming.

And on a lighter note, a dialogue of 4 philosophers trying to play a mutliplayer game of Magic: The Gathering by Jesse Mason at his blog Killing a Goldfish.

Closing Credits

If you have any recommendations for the weekly roundups, you may have to our email or @-message our Twitter account. Please be kind and consider donating to our Patreon if you value the work done here or just spread it around if you cannot. It is appreciated.

We have a new Blogs of the Round Table topic up and waiting for submissions. Check out our Podcast on iTunes or add the RSS feed to your podcatcher.

And…I think that’s everything. See you next week!

August Roundup: ‘Nostalgia’

Posted by Mark Filipowich in Blogs of the Round Table: - (Comments Off on August Roundup: ‘Nostalgia’)

In the spirit of August’s topic for Blogs of the Round Table, I’ve been looking back at some older editions of this fine feature of ours. In doing so I’ve discovered that August 2015 has matched BoRT’s month of highest participation! You’d have to go all the way back to January 2013 to find as enthusiastic a response.

Naturally, special thanks must go to Alan Williamson, who came up with the topic some time during his captaincy of the SS BoRT-olomew. Now, let’s take a moment to look back at the waters we’ve sailed and consider our own ‘Nostalgia.’

Games are often talked about as a young medium, but that doesn’t prevent players from valuing the memories they’ve made from them. Games are old enough to be in the background of a whole generation’s upbringing and we want to know what you think about that. Do gamers look back on yesteryear with rose coloured glasses? Or were there some good ol’ days that gaming should harken back to? Do you keep your old consoles to recapture the magic of lower bit eras or is the past weighing down the possibilities for fresh new ideas? We want to hear about your personal stories of old games and how they shape you as a player, a writer, a developer, a scholar or just as a person. If you grew up with games we want to know about how you thought of them when you were young and if you took to them as an adult we want to know how they appear without that background.

This month saw a number of entries related to Final Fantasy, particularly in light of Square’s announcement for a remake of Final Fantasy VII.

Austin Howe, one half of the Critical Switch podcast, offers his take in an episode comparing the proposed remake to a shift from rock standards, where the work and its original creator are treated as inextricable, to jazz standards, where covers are expected to be frequent, unique and interesting. Howe hopes that, like other JRPGs, Final Fantasy VII will offer something new with a fresh take.

Rik Davnall has mixed feelings about the new Final Fantasy VII. On Starts with a Fish, he writes that although he liked playing the game for the first time, long after its initial release, having an old fan with a wildly different approach to it breathing down his neck really stunted his appreciation for it:

Why talk about this now? Well, sometime in the next couple of years, a whole lot of people are going to get the chance to come to FFVII fresh, in a game that really won’t – can’t, for better or worse – match the memories of people who played it when it was new. That disconnect could do a lot to hurt the actual experiences people have with the remake, maybe on both sides (I imagine it’s hurting some people in conversations within the dev team already).

Jake Tucker reflects on the quietly influential Rainbow Six series through a series of interviews with the game’s original development team. In playing the alpha of the latest release, Tucker remains hopeful that the innovative series will continue to push boundaries now that the shooter atmosphere it helped create has outgrown it.

In his first review for Giant Bomb, Austin Walker discusses the nostalgia provoked by Galak-Z. While at first the game appears to simply pander to the audiences of 80’s Japanese cartoons, it takes the extra step of recapturing the feelings of that old media, not just its content. Walker writes,

Still, If these references made up the entirety of Galak-Z’s connection to its major influences, I think I’d be mark this down as another piece of empty nostalgia. My empty nostalgia, yes, but not much more than that. Thankfully, Galak-Z does more than just peddle what I love back to me. It offers me something new, too.

Without playing favourites, let me just say that this piece on Chrono Trigger on Problem Machine really speaks to me. The article suggests that as we try to restore something we’ve destroyed or lost in our younger days, we end up hurting ourselves in that chase. Similarly, the cast of Chrono Trigger tries to prevent the apocalypse that people have made inevitable. Of the many excellent passages, I’ve selected this one to represent the article:

We want conflicts, battles that never really end. We want loss and agony and bitterness and forgiveness. We want everything to go wrong, we want to see the world broken so that we can see it rebuilt. We want to see everything ruined so we can see it fixed. We want to believe that fixing a broken world is possible, and so we sow the seeds of destruction in our art. We are creator and audience, villain and hero. We are Lavos, the disaster, falling from the sky to catalyze a world of conflict and suffering that gives rise to the art we want to see. We consume the emotions, the conflict and energy and sadness that we foment in our apocalypse, the heroism that requires our tragedy to flourish.

On an errily similar note, The Rev takes to their blog to muse about nostalgia as an effort to preserve a culture and (what literary theorist Hans Robert Jauss might call) a horizon of expectations that no longer exist.

The wheezing, messy machinery of a culture cannot be maintained with anything less than our lives. Unless we take the time to interact with and preserve the stories and experiences that define a people, they will die out. Certainly there is a difference between keeping a culture alive and cynical nostalgia baiting. But that line may be thinner than we think.

Meghan Blythe Adams dusts off her blog to consider how The Night of the Rabbit evokes the nostalgia of creepy children’s cartoons to restore a childish fear of funny animals:

If T.S. Eliot will show you fear in a handful of dust, [The Night of the Rabbit developer,] Matthias Kempke will show you the fear waiting behind each beautifully painted, seemingly idyllic scene in Mousewood. He’ll remind you how you once saw these things.

At The Joycean, BoRT’s very own Luigi/Tails/Coco Bandicoot, Lindsey Joyce reflects on The Legend of Zelda as the introverted Player 2 to her older sister’s pioneering Player 1 and the narratives that were built out of playing such a sprawling game:

This also meant that my experience of and my nostalgia for the game are altered by the story I told myself, the story I wanted to be there rather than the story that actually was. Of course, memory is always subjective and, of course, everyone’s experience of any game is unique, but for me, the way I conceive of Zelda and my relationship to it, is distinctly different than my relationship with other games. Whenever I have revisited The Legend of Zelda, I still find a good game, but I never find my game. Now, in my 30’s, I can’t ignore the text. The words immediately register in my head. The magic I brought to it, the sacred act of playing it, the mysteries it contained, and the story it allowed me to create for myself are all gone.

Stephanie Jennings of Ludogabble recalls the game that awakened her love of horror, Resident Evil 4, and reminisces about that first journey through it, a feeling that can never be restored:

I believe that our nostalgia is a pursuit of that initial contact with a game, when the game was full of uncertainty and potentiality. It is an ever-elusive desire for an already-departing, in-the-moment being-experienced. The moment of play drifts away the instant it is enacted, and we may remember the way it felt, but those smokey tendrils were already shifting form and departing even while we were feeling them.

Returning to Final Fantasy VII, Chris Casberg pens a piece on Game Church comparing the enthusiasm of the remake with CS Lewis’s philosophy on nostalgia. For Casberg, nostalgia is a trap that chains people to a lost time when they should be looking at the possibilities of the present in their maturity.

Nostalgia’s a funny thing, though. Or perhaps it’s not funny—more likely it’s a trap. Nostalgia anchors us in an anachronism, keeping us tethered to old thoughts and feelings while time drifts ever onward. Neither those feelings from our youth nor our fond memories are bad in themselves, of course. It’s the wishing to be there again, to be a child in front of a bulging tube television crackling with static discharge while the Playstation’s chatty disc drive whirs and clicks, that leads us astray. The greatness of those past moments is particular to their time and place in the formation of our imagination. We can’t ever actually become a child in a particular development stage again, as much as we might wish Jesus’ command that we be like children mean that. To yearn for a return to that state is to yearn for retrogression, a diminishing of the person God is actively forming.

Dan Lipson responds directly to Casberg on Better Games, Better Gamers with a broader view of the Final Fantasy series and its various spin offs. Lipson suggests that nostalgia is a part of the spirit that helps the Final Fantasy legacy explore new eccentricities.

Founder of both Five out of Ten and Blogs of the Round Table, Alan Williamson, has released an article from the magazine’s latest issue in conjunction with our topic. Williamson is both sceptical and appreciative of his nostalgia: having never played The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time when it was released in 1998, he’s able to accurately gauge its strengths and flaws from a distance, yet he also appreciates it in the context of an old game from a bygone era.

As he concludes: “I used to be wary of worshipping at the Temple of Time, but now, I’m learning to embrace my faith.”

Amsel von Spreckelsen declares on Medium that empty nostalgia is, quite simply, an illusion that masks a mostly painful past:

There is something to be said for nostalgia, and that something is that it is terrible. A treacherous feeling of loss for a thing that never was, holding us back and pretending to be our friend while it does so. The past is terrible. It is said that the past is another country, which may be true if the other country you are thinking about is filled with pain and racists.

Over at Haywire Magazine, Taylor Hidalgo stresses that nostalgia is not just a longing for old games or old game design, it’s longing for the versions of ourselves that first encountered those old games:

Nostalgia for old games is about more than just pining for the days of yore when “games were better,” or whatever arguments might arise from rose-tinted reflections of a time long past. It’s also about looking back on who we were as players and as people when we were both the same as we are now and also vastly different. Nostalgia explores all of it, gathered into a finite shape, a precise and entirely repeatable piece of history, and then serves it to us exactly as it did then, so we can see just how different we are. I’m not just nostalgic for those childhood RPGs that were so mechanically simple and accessible, but also a little nostalgic for the ease with which I could experience them.

Over at One More Continue, the author reminisces about their time pro team with their brother for Day of Defeat. Although the rare victories were especially sweet, the author doesn’t remember the same “good old days” as their brother, rather they remember the anxiety and confusion that came with trying to maintain consistent high-level players:

Back then, I was just confused and hurt by the way people were acting. Looking back on the experience, I can see a little bit clearer what was happening, or at least what I think was happening. At that time, we were are a little lonely, all looking for someone to look up to us, all looking for someone to tell us that what we were doing was good. We were insecure and we had egos.

Phill English of Tim and Phill Talk About Games offers a brief but punchy piece on the imagination required to fill the narrative gaps of his favourite games of yesteryear, which is lost as graphical ability raises the standards for new games.

One of BoRT’s most seasoned champions, Leigh Harrison of As Houses fame, asks “Why Would Anyone Want to Play a ‘New Classic Point & Click Adventure Game’?” Who indeed? Perhaps this passage will pique your curiosity even further:

Nostalgia is a sign that we’ve come too far, too fast, and ended up in a worse-off position. We slip into thinking about our childhoods or a bygone age because what we do with large chunks of our lives, and by extension the world in which we do it all, is so devoid of proper, genuine, nurturing meaning. It’s comforting to think back to somewhere we’d be perceptibly freer, however misinformed such fantasy is.

In his very first of what I hope to be many more entries to BoRT, Joey DiZoglio argues that nostalgic design calls on the past to comfort the player’s fear of progress:

Games are fundamentally iterative, and thus the audience demands that all proceeding copies hoping to exhibit new technology must graft their advances to the comforting mold of the progenitor.

On Dreams in Pillow Shots another BoRT newcomer, Andrew Gordon, feels that his new home in Deimen in the Netherlands is the New Super Mario Bros. of towns because it looks and feels so much like the American sitcom towns he grew up watching in Scotland. And yet, Gordon can’t shake the feeling that the nostalgic architecture of both the game and the sitcom set only mask the unhappy moments,

If nostalgia has one purpose, its that it helps us justify our own experiences to ourselves. No matter how confusing, mundane, trivial, or even painful an experience may have been at the time, our brain has a knack for preserving and amplifying its positive aspects in hindsight, allowing us to console ourselves in the realisation that every period of our lives contain things to be grateful for.

Finally, Steve Hernandez gets the last word for August in a piece written for his blog, Vidyasaur. Hernandez reflects on the growing time spent in the lobby of Ratchet and Clank: Up Your Arsenal as fewer and fewer people played its competitive multiplayer mode. Over time, those matches fade into moments in Hernandez’s memory until only the background music stays with him.


What a roundup! I get the feeling that this roundup is going to stay with me for a long time. Hopefully, though, my rose-coloured glasses will blot out my fatigue and dire need for the bathroom when I look back on this post.

Once again, Past Alan Williamson deserves an applause for coming up with the theme and if you find yourself longing for more games criticism, give a listen to the latest Critical Distance Confab minisode, where Eric Swain interviews our long-time senior curator, Kris Ligman.

Or if you’re interested in a more recent retrospect, check out episode 2 of our Critical Discourse series where Gita Jackson, Aevee Bee and Nick Dinicola discuss their writings on the topic of ‘Danger’.

And if you’ve had enough reminiscing, than you can look forward to Lindsey Joyce’s coming roundup of This Month in Let’s Plays and her very own call for September’s Blogs of the Round Table.

I’ll bet you thought that was all we had coming up. Well we also have a number of other features we’ll be announcing on the horizon so check back regularly.

Finally, all of our regular features as well as our special one-time projects require support from our readers to continue growing so please give our Patreon page a read and consider contributing a monthly sum to support us.

August 30th

Posted by Kris Ligman in This Week in Videogame Blogging: - (Comments Off on August 30th)

Readers, do you know I’m sometimes mistaken for Australian? Don’t ask me why, with all the Zs and missing Us in my speech, but it happens.

Anyway, right now I rather wish I were an Aussie. It’s approximately “claw my eyes out” degrees with a side of wildfires here in the Northern Hemisphere, at 11pm as I write this. A change of season sounds quite nice.

Enough about the brain boiling into vapor inside my skull, though, let’s get to this week’s reading! It’s This Week in Videogame Blogging!

Of Play and Spectatorship

At Videogame Tourism, Eron Rauch is embarking on an exciting new series dedicated to demystifying Multiplayer Online Battle Arenas (MOBAs) and helping to explain their appeal as a spectator sport on a global stage.

Meanwhile, in discussing eSports’ grassroots cousin in the international fighting game community, Ian Danskin attempts to pin down (video) how an 14-year-old game like Super Mash Bros. Melee has garnered a fandom and competitive scene based around its players testing the limits of the game’s systems.

Of Lore and Character

At Literally Games, Michael Hancock offers a dense but engrossing piece comparing the lore of Obsidian’s Pillars of Eternity with the philosophy of Schopenhauer and others. Heavy spoilers lie within, but here’s a taste:

[Eugene] Thacker’s discussion on Life doesn’t “solve” Pillars of Eternity or vice versa. Instead, I think they both illustrate how complicated our concept(s) of life can be, that it’s possible to conceive of ways of approaching life beyond black and white abundance and absence.

At PopMatters Moving Pixels, Jorge Albor admits he was left feeling a bit cold from The Chinese Room’s Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture, in part because he felt no real sense of closure for its characters.

At The Mary Sue, Jessica Lachenal chats a bit about the significance of the quiet interludes (what we might refer to as “pillow shots” in film) in Life is Strange. Meanwhile, at Gamasutra, Katherine Cross has a look back at Life is Strange developer Dontnod’s premier title, Remember Me, and how its meticulously rendered villains fall short on the character detail necessary to make the player care:

There was precious little behind her, no conviction, no grand sense of ideology, scientific or political, that seemed to drive this indisputably powerful woman. You know who she is, where she is, but not why she is. She is sketched in such a way that should leave her far more compelling than a mere Gallic neo-Eichmann, pulling her assigned lever in this corporatist republic’s machinery of terror.

What most of the best villains elaborate or express in their characterization is a roadmap of thought that allows you to see how they became who they are. This need not be expressed in a tedious dump of expository back story, but rather simply showing (if not always telling) why these characters do what they do.

Embodied Horror

Sticking with Gamasutra for a moment, Alex Wawro has a front-page piece on the psychological toll that studying and rendering hyperreal violence (and other grotesqueries) can have on designers and animators working in the games industry (Content Warning: graphic violence).

Moving over to Not Your Mama’s Gamer, Samantha Blackmon questions why Fallout Shelter not only erases queerness, it also enforces some highly specific attitudes regarding pregnancy:

There was so much about the mechanics of this game that not only privileged heteronormativity but also reproduction. Only heterosexual sex is allowed, heterosexual sex always leads to both 100% happiness and an apparently viable pregnancy, and said pregnancy must be protected at all costs, even when there is a direct threat to the woman carrying the fetus. Um, wow. That is some very real shit right there.

Also in the vein of unfortunate implications, at Kill Screen, Zach Budgor and Jess Joho have a conversation on Supermassive’s ‘interactive horror movie’ Until Dawn and how it plays upon (and into) the gendered tropes and clichés of the slasher genre.

Past to Present

History Respawn’s Bob Whitaker engages with historian Matthew Gabriele in his latest episode (video). It’s nominally about Dragon Age Inquisition and The Witcher 3, but moreover, it’s a conversation on our pop cultural fascination with Europe’s Middle Ages.

On the subject of fantasy (and its broad Tolkienification in modern fantasy), Go Make Me a Sandwich’s wundergeek crunches the numbers on depictions of men, women and non-gendered characters in Wizards of the Coast’s Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition source books. In short: better than before, but still a long way to go.

And talking about history from a coding perspective, The iBookGuy recently released an excellent presentation on the hardware limitations to render color on the Commodore 64 (video), and how game developers creatively worked around these constraints.

Back at Kill Screen, Dan Solberg recently paid a visit to Chicago’s Bit Bash indie game festival, and in particular looked at its layout as a work of gallery curation and sound design:

Although the games in this space had their own little external speakers, the house and electro pop booming from the stage assumed each game’s soundtrack save a few levels-peaking sound effects here and there. By overlaying the space with music, each game’s embedded audio may have been replaced, but it also afforded a consistent, party-centric tone that blended play sessions into as a more holistic festival experience rather than pockets of individual gaming instances. […] [T]he festival catered to a variety of gaming interests without having to go the “white cube” route of homogenized presentation.

Further Reading

Interested in more? The latest issue of Arcade Review, brought to you by our own Zolani Stewart and Lana Polansky, is now live for your consumption.

Unwinnable Weekly remains the most compelling weekly periodical in games, and this week’s cover story about a couple’s relationship strained by an unassuming Nintendo game is well worth the dive.

Finally, over at FemHype, Jillian has compiled a fantastic reading list of articles concerning diverse representation in games, including a few you may’ve missed on these pages!

Did We Leave Anything Out?

As always, we’re extremely grateful to all who send in their recommendations to us each week, whether by email, mentioning us on Twitter, or whispered into the ears of moths like Gandalf. They all make it to us eventually, and though we can never include everything, these roundups would not be half the resources they are without you!

An announcement! We have six new features heading your way soon — that’s right, six. At least. We had so many great submissions from our recent call for pitches, we just wanted to commission as many as we could! Stay tuned because we’ll be naming the first of these sooner than you think.

Other announcements! You still have a couple days to submit to this month’s Blogs of the Round Table and This Month in Let’s Plays! Be sure to use the respective hashtags #BoRT and #LetsPlayCD when submitting on Twitter.

Critical Distance is proudly funded entirely by readers like you! If you like what you see and want to help fund future features like the ones above, consider pledging a small monthly donation through Patreon!

May Roundup: ‘Plans’

Posted by Mark Filipowich in Blogs of the Round Table: - (Comments Off on May Roundup: ‘Plans’)

I just settled into a deep cup of chamomile tea for the last night at home before a long bus ride takes me away for a week when I realized I forgot to write this roundup. I’ve always been more of a coffee drinker anyway.

Besides, isn’t it true that the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry? How often? Let’s dig into this month’s Blogs of the Round Table covering every facet of ‘plans’ to find out.

How much planning do you expect from a game? Do you pine for minutia or do you crave chaos? Does something happen to you when a game twists sharply or should games stick to the promises they make in the tutorial? And what do you think about developers? Are their plans too ambitious? Too mundane? Should devs be more flexible or do they need to run a tight ship? We want to know about how you schedule your backlog, the degree that a game should respect your expectations, how hard it is to get your friends together for a game. How can plans hold their shape and how do you meet changes? Tell us about how boring it is when things fall in place and how exciting it is when they fall apart.

Leigh Harrison starts us off with a look at Metro 2033 on his blog, As Houses, where he describes the chaotic, close and uncomfortable early combat encounters in contrast with the later, precise and malicious ones later in the game. It’s a good case study of how plans and their absence create totally different experiences:

The Devil is in the detail, so we’re told, and it was certainly present in my flawless approach to tunnel navigation. There was a kind of gentle naivete to my earlier bumblings; I was simply getting by in my environment. There was no time for malice to infect my actions: I was too busy trying to survive. But as soon as I donned the night vision I became calculating and coolly removed from my actions. In being able to plan out my attacks to the letter, rather than responding to those of others, I’d lost something along the way.

Now that Alisha Karabinus is 100 hours into State of Decay, she’s written a not-quite postmortem to discuss her personal experience with it, the failure of reviews in capturing it and the endless plans she and her husband have made for it:

It doesn’t really matter who’s holding the controller; our game is a team effort, meticulously planned levels in advance. We talk as we play, changing strategy and approach, hammering out an order for searching houses and undertaking missions, determining how and when to build the support buildings that will allow us to maximize our crew’s knowledge and abilities. We howl and cringe together over deaths. In this game, we are one unit, one player with four hands, two brains.

Likewise, Joseph Dean argues that the lack of a meta game—that is a list of communally developed strategies organized by effectiveness—is what makes Frozen Synapse such a great multiplayer experience. Because the planning phase recurs, the Frozen Synapse player always reacts and adjusts their plan in a way that meta plans fall apart when faced with unexpected challenges.

The editing staff at Fem Hype get together to discuss the moments in games that made each of them cry, many if them describe events that disrupted their plans or expectations. Whether in Gone Home or Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons, some of the most emotionally powerful moments these authors describe are those connected to the plans they brought into their games (content warning: sexual abuse, suicide).

Back at Not your Mama’s Gamer, Samantha Blackmon describes the planning needed to play games with her daughter (and the scaling difficulty that comes with it).

Writing for The Ludi Bin, Rachel Helps notes the delicate balance between the love of planning and the love of spontaneity, noting how both the success of figuring things out and the frustration of missing content hinge on not knowing what comes next. In her own words:

[A]s much as I like to plan things, I also enjoy not knowing what will come next. If never missing out on parts of games means never being surprised, I’m okay with missing out on a few things.

The Rev gives a solid overview of the dating sim genre before describing how Sentimental Graffiti differs. The genre is based on planning and learning, which Sentimental Graffiti pushes even further with a resource management mechanic. For The Rev, dating sims can be summed up thusly:

Even taking points into account,  the player only has two resources to manage: information and choices. Through reading the story and paying attention to the object of their affection, the player is able to make choices that move the story in the desired direction.

Matt Duczeminski offers what is likely a familiar story for many of us about his experiences growing up around games in comparison with the time he needs to portion for them as an adult.

Phill English, from the regular BoRT contributors over at Tim and Phill Talk About Games, offers a brief look at the exciting world of game jams, where the zany first hour of outrageous planning can sometimes prove the most fun and social part of an entire event:

There are a lot of great things about game jams, but my absolute favourite bit is the jammiest part of it: the planning stage. It’s a magical moment when the only limits are a vague theme and the sparkle-filtered memory of what it was like last time. When 24 or 48 or 72 hours seems like an eternity and the air around you still manages to thrum with potential through the grease of a traditional McDonald’s breakfast.

Sean Seyler describes a trip to Germany with his wife for the most recent DiGRA conference and relates it to Skies of Arcadia which, like a good trip, follows the itinerary just enough to know what go expect but breaks to keep things interesting:

I plan for sake of it, trying to use my knowledge of how things have gone to make how things will go better. Whether it’s travel or gameplay, I anticipate what I can and make myself open for challenges that await.

Taylor Hidalgo loves to plan his way through complex systems, but he admits that he never sees his plan through in multiplayer games like Killing Floor 2, where he so expects to fail that he frequently leaves teammates behind:

To me, the concept of a plan is an ideal: a theoretical perfection that rarely survives the first spanner in the gears. When the first things start to go awry, my reflex is to reposition, reconsider, and survive. I am a great survivalist, but I will invariably get everyone around me killed.

I have a friend like you, Taylor, and let me just say that we’ve resorted to making them into the human minesweeper because they’re always first to buckle under pressure.

And that will just about do it for this edition of Blogs of the Round Table. As always, I’m thrilled that so many took an interest in submitting such excellent work and I hope that everyone else enjoyed reading it as much as I did.

Once again, if your site supports iframes, copy-paste this nifty bit of code to add the Link-o-Matic 5000:

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Finally, if you’re interested in supporting BoRT and everything else we do here at Critical Distance, take a look at our Patron page and consider contributing a monthly donation.

Otherwise, I have written in my daybook in red ink that June’s topic is just around the corner so make sure to keep room for it in your own plans.

March 29th

Posted by John Kilhefner in This Week in Videogame Blogging: - (Comments Off on March 29th)

What’s up, fellow crit enthusiasts? If you’re looking for Easter candy, you’re a week too early, but we’ve got plenty of goodies from a slew of amazing writers to keep you content until then. So, welcome to This Week in Videogame Blogging!

What It Means to be Indie

Luke Pullen reacts to Offworld’s printing of Zoe Quinn’s Alt Games manifesto with jubilation for its recognition and a pessimism of historical sorts for how its artists cope in the future. On Gamasutra, Bryant Francis interviews several developers including Dan Cook, saying: “Let Get Real about the Financial Expectations of ‘Going Indie’:

“In another industry, we’d have labeled the folks making games on new digital platforms as ‘entrepreneurs,’ but because of the rush to be ‘art,’ mere discussion of business takes on a negative tinge. The result is a lot of very poorly-equipped folks trying to run businesses for the first time.”

Over at TransGamer Thoughts, Heather Alexandra talks about the lack of empathy dealing with the emotions and fears of trans people in games. Soha Kareem discusses “Games That Heal” at Offworld, noting how her work, and others of a deeply personal thread, facilitates a coping method for indie artists.

Trauma, Transcendence and Mental Illness

Bouncing off that last one, let’s dive into a few articles peeking under the curtain of themes of illnesses and healing. On PopMatters, G. Christopher Williams describes how mental illness in White Night allegorises American economic inequality, and At Madness and Play, Amsel Von Spreckelsen discussed the treatment of mental health in Darkest Dungeon:

It is mired in decades-old RPG design and all that the automation of putting it on a computer does is  make the bookkeeping easier; and when mental health becomes relegated to a bookkeeping exercise, when the advances are based on more efficient crunching of variables and modifiers, then it should be clear that this does not help us understand pain and dysfunction and joy and the life that you lead when you are mad.

Back at Offworld, Laura Hudson talks VR’s applications for immersion beyond marketing. Meanwhile Dara Khan, delves into profound spiritual experiences with games, and finds Dragon Age: Inquisition’s story at odds with its gameplay.

Laura Kate recounts a deeply personal trauma on Indie Haven, one resurrected by a scene in Life is Strange: Episode 2. (Content warning: discussion of suicide.)

Joe Parlock, inspired by Laura Kate’s post, tells of how his own feelings blinded him to an option in Fallout 3, and elsewhere, Taylor Hidalgo tackles morality in The Deer God.

Mapping Out Our History

Over at the Ontological Geek, James Hinton wrote about how game maps tend to ignore practical implications for interesting design in land masses, and Brendan Vance’s “The Ghosts of Bioshock” reflects on the Wounded Knee massacre of the Sioux and the framing of history in Bioshock: Infinite:

On one hand I feel [Bioshock: Infinite] appropriates: It snatches the juiciest, tenderest piece from a complex and valuable history so it can put that piece on display, neglecting to offer its historical subjects their due consideration. I think it telling that the game’s plot reduces the Massacre to a mere skeleton in the closet of its protagonist Booker DeWitt; I think it tells us that Infinite is a game about white experiences to the detriment of non-white experiences, greatly complicating any sympathy it may bear towards the myriad victims of white imperialism. Yet on the other hand I must consider in its defence that it uses Wounded Knee as shorthand because that is the most its matrix of contradictory constraints permit it to do; that in employing this shorthand it creates a tiny space for others to approach the game’s subject matter with more focus and more empathy (a space I now hope to cultivate).

On Offworld, Tanya D. gives developers a reason to be historically accurate by including more black characters and fewer stereotypes:

Even Vivienne de Fer, who gave me so much hope initially, disappoints. She falls head over hennin into the “Strong Black Woman” archetype from the moment she’s introduced. She’s a supposed “ice queen,” an untouchable woman who’s too good for the plebes around her. She says “my dear” like some women say “bless her heart,” and her words cut sharper than any spell. Any flirtation attempts result in her putting you down, emphasizing her own unattainability. Why can’t she just be a black woman with the romantic and relationship quirks we all have?

But what if we couldn’t choose race in games? What if race were parceled out at random?

Battlefield Hard Sell

Battlefield Hardline came out last week, and with it so did plenty of interesting writing. Let’s start with Austin Walker’s “Cop Out“, which takes Hardline to task in an incredibly thoughtful review:

And so Battlefield Hardline speaks to our context, too (whether or not that’s what the developers would like). It speaks a politics even as it flails in the single player campaign, desperate to avoid saying anything about the dead black boy on the pavement—about 75 unarmed black bodies on the ground. It flails in the multiplayer, eager to wave aside any critiques of police militarization. It flails and flails and flails. And the flailing is the message.

Carolyn Petit, too, takes on Battlefield: Hardline, both on KQED and Tumblr, finding its mechanics shallow and its themes underwhelming.

Meanwhile, Marc Prices believes Battlefield deliberately avoided social issues by disguising itself as a cop procedural, and our own Mark Filipowich explores his thoughts on crime gleaned through invoking literature, film and TV:

The player does all the friendship building questing that would be expected of an RPG, but it does so in the context of an urban world: they only have power with access to electricity, the internet, social conventions, architecture and guns; the power’s domain is the city and the city is everywhere. Most of the game the player takes on errands for cash, selling their bodies into violent labour to undermine the big-bad. And yet, the existence of magic always provides hope. As miserable as things may seem, there is a force beyond the city that promises equilibrium.

Finally, Anthony McGlynn at The Arcade talks “Battlefield Hardline and Politics in Games“…

Politics as Usual

…a point echoed by Leigh Alexander who argues “You can’t ‘just keep politics out of it’“, while Emily Joy Bembeneck discusses how even games like Cities: Skyline inject politics:

Games are engines of persuasion, and despite some common rhetoric that disagrees, they are delicious morsels of politics. They’re drenched in it, marinated in it, and just because it tastes good doesn’t mean it’s all ok. And the politics of Cities:Skylines is that education is the easy answer.

Keza MacDonald at Kotaku UK reacts to the strange desire to keep politics out of fiction:

It also makes me monstrously uncomfortable, because in a former life I was an academic (I did a Masters in German and another in Comparative Literature before ducking out of the first year of a PhD to do this video game thing full-time), and every time I see language like this it kinda reminds me of the Nazi attitude to art. They very much took the view that art should be “apolitical”, which of course eventually resulted in the extermination of all the art that didn’t fit THEIR politics. I feel like anyone who’s ever read anything about Entartete Kunst couldn’t help but feel deeply troubled by the notion that art “should” be unpolitical.

Whose Category is it Anyway?

Just because I failed to properly categorize the following doesn’t mean they aren’t compelling in their own right. Just look to Jorge Albor, who plays Earthbound as an adult and finds it a compelling piece of children’s literature:

Playing Earthbound now, it is easy to find moments of satire, when the game criticizes the strange and mysterious elements of adulthood. At the Stoic Club in Summers, Ness and his friends encounter a room full of adults who have meaningless verbose conversations with each other. One denizen exclaims, “You guys can’t envision the final collapse of capitalism? Incredible!” This isn’t just a silly in-joke for adults. This is the “kids’ table” perspective of adult conversation. Earthbound is the closest piece of fiction that I have seen to induce the feeling of being a child.

In keeping with Brendan Vance’s “death and photography,” Rowan Kaiser re-articulates his 1UP article, “The 80 Most Influential Videogames of All Time,” and Doom still tops the list, while Jillian of FemHype elaborated on her love for the original Lara Croft:

While her clothes were laughably ill-suited for raiding caves and deep-sea diving, the Lara from the earlier Tomb Raider installments was never a pawn to be neatly directed by the hands of the men she encountered in-game. That Lara faced some pretty tough shit, too. A couple hundred cultists armed with guns and grenades? Pfft. Oh, please. The original Lara faced down a T-rex with only two pistols and lived to fight another day. Don’t even play, folks. She’ll mess your dinosaur ass right up.

Auke Peters listed “Ten Fierce Female Game Characters That’ll Blow Your Mind“, and yes, Lara Croft is in there.

Last, but far from least, we have some video for you by way of Innuendo Studios, “Who Shot Guybrush Threpwood“, giving a compelling explanation for why adventure games died and why that was a good thing.

If Every Pork Chop Were Perfect, We Wouldn’t Have Hot Dogs 

Welp, that’s it folks! Thank you for reading, and please continue to support and send us underappreciated voices; whether it’s your work or a writer you’re keen on, send it via Twitter mention or our email submissions form.

And don’t forget to submit to this month’s Blogs of the Round Table and This Month in Let’s Plays.

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February Roundup: ‘Buddy Systems’

Posted by Mark Filipowich in Blogs of the Round Table: - (Comments Off on February Roundup: ‘Buddy Systems’)

Well friends, we’ve come to the end of another very short February, and to show my dedication to you, I’ve decided to spend today indoors to do this roundup even while a sudden heatwave is bringing temperatures as high as -7. No no, don’t thank me, that’s what friends are for. Y’know what friends are also for? Videogames, which is why we wanted to hear all about the ‘Buddy Systems’ that bring us closer together:

As competitive as games may be, they’re equally cooperative in nature. What do games do to foster teamwork? Which game characters can you only think of as partners? Which of your friends do you depend on to share med-kits in Left 4 Dead and fire flowers in Mario? How have you used games to bond with others? On the other hand, how do games fail to bring you closer to others? Do your friends take you for granted because you prefer support classes or are you tired of having to always carry everyone else to victory? Tell us about the friendships that captivate you on either side of the screen, the mechanics that foster human contact or the systems that pull you apart.

Jeb Wrench kicks us off at his blog, Jeb Writes, by pointing at the failure of games in portraying non-romantic friendships in their rush to include a love story. In his own words:

A deep, meaningful friendship can resonate along completely different chords to players. Unfortunately, friendship is usually just marked along the same axis as romance – a measure of points along a slider. Often just a level below romance. Which I feel misrepresents the importance of friendship as a relationship. A strong friendship can be just as powerful, just as important and as a romantic relationship.

The author then moves into a brief discussion of Saint’s Row IV to point out a videogame plot that actually cares about friendships.

Tom Holt looks on the friendships games create between players, citing some of the games that has kept his social circle in tact across long distances. Furthermore, Holt examines the kinds of games that encourage mean-spiritedness between partners and the kinds of trolling that ruins friendly competition, even by imitating it.

Over at Discover Games, Shawn Trautman takes a different approach, suggesting that the value of games can’t be decided by authority or community, rather that it is perfectly valid to approach a game personally and disregard the consensus. He hammers his point home with this gem:

This Wind Waker situation provides the perfect opportunity to illustrate this idea without being accused of simply knee-jerkingly defending my opinions and playstyles. Based on my experience with the game, the oft-lamented “giant fetch quest at the end” criticism makes absolutely no sense. There is no giant fetch quest at the end for me, and there didn’t have to be for you, either. But here’s the twist: that criticism is still valid.

Phill English also misses the days when he and his friends could saddle up on a couch and charge into a game, but he’s glad to find new ways to connect with friends over games:

LANs are a thing of the past, surrendered to the inconvenience of having to schedule weeks in advance, blocking out time around work and family to lug our rigs around to a single address for a day’s play. No, it’s far easier these days to admit that we’re busy (read: old) people and instead take advantage of moments where our online friends lists align.

Looking back into games, Stephanie Jennings, writing for Ludogabble, discusses how odd it is that for all the emphasis Pokemon places on social activity, until Pokemon X and Y, there is no effort to create any relationship between the player’s avatar and their pokemon. Jennings muses about how appropriate the pokemon-amie system originating in X and Y is, comparing it to Mattie Brice’s Pokemon: Unchained challenge from 2013. From Jenning’s article:

But I wonder if players would feel increasingly uncomfortable with the violence of battle if the opportunities to develop emotional attachments expanded. I wonder what a Pokemon game would look like if bonding were the central concern, rather than combat. I wonder what a Pokemon game would be like in which the point actually was journeying, getting to know others, seeing and experiencing the world, and learning how to selflessly care for one’s friends. I wonder if we’d notice more how disturbing it is that we are content with the myths of the values of battle in the first place.

Speaking of violent friendships, Leigh Harrison explores how the clunky, awkward violence in Far Cry 2 challenges how he relates to the avatar’s thuggish friends compared with the rest of the NPCs in the game’s world. Whoo. Dark.

The Rev chronicles the great battle on Google’s Ingress, a multiplayer augmented reality game where people are aligned in teams based on their real life cities. Our intrepid narrator then relates to us how playing to the game’s virtual goals are accomplished physically. Pictures of each moment as they happened in the virtual and physical worlds particularly point to how Ingress crosses the boundaries between each kind of play.

Finally, I decided to throw my hat in the ring and it looks like I barely made my own deadline. This month’s topic was an opportunity for me to talk about “friendly games” on my blog, bigtallwords. Unlike your garden variety co-op games, which just allow multiple players to occupy the same space in pursuit of the same goal, friendly games like Kirby’s Epic Yarn are structured to actually get players talking and cooperating with little risk of failure.

Well I better get going now, you know how it is. But I really had a good time. We should totally get together more often. Hit me up by putting the Link-Matic 5000 on your very own site:

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Anyway, our good friend Lindsey will be along with the next topic soon, but in the meantime if you’re interested in what we do here, consider contributing a monthly amount of your choosing on Patreon. Thanks again for reading and happy blogging!

February 22nd

Posted by Kris Ligman in This Week in Videogame Blogging: - (Comments Off on February 22nd)

Hello! Did you know it’s National Cat Day in Japan? This is what Twitter tells me, and by ‘tells me,’ I mean it’s filling my timeline with even more cat pictures than usual. I can’t exactly complain.

That said, I’m here to perform a duty, catvalanche or no catvalanche. Let’s get to This Week in Videogame Blogging!


We start with Kill Screen founder and PBS Game/Show host Jamin Warren, who in the show’s most recent episode tackles several of the extant issues of race representation in games. As Warren argues, people of color are still dramatically underrepresented in games, and what representation does exist often falls into stereotypes and tokenism.

Back on Warren’s home turf on Kill Screen, contributor Will Partin provides a good companion piece for the above video, going into further detail regarding BioWare’s Dragon Age and Mass Effect series and their failure to engage with (human) race issues in a non-abstracted way.

Cutting to the heart of the issue, over on Kotaku Evan Narcisse hosts a roundtable with an all-star panel consisting of Austin Walker, Shawn Alexander Allen, TJ Thomas and Catt Small, discussing the shortcomings of black representation in games from their own vantage points, issues which extend much further than (but certainly includes) diversity among developers.

She’s Not Playing It Wrong

Responding to the Kotaku roundtable, Not Your Mama’s Gamer’s Samantha Blackmon reflects on her recent experience playing Life is Strange and how her experience as a black woman subconsciously inflected how she treated the game’s authority figures. This dovetails nicely with a recent essay by Shawn Trautman, on overcoming the myth that there is a ‘right’ way to play a game:

Based on my experience with the game, the oft-lamented “giant fetch quest at the end” criticism [of Wind Waker] makes absolutely no sense. There is no giant fetch quest at the end for me, and there didn’t have to be for you, either. But here’s the twist: that criticism is still valid. If someone didn’t know that the Triforce shards could be gotten earlier, or they didn’t know that they would be important later, I suppose I could do what’s been done to me and say their criticisms are wrong because it’s their “own fault”: they made that annoying fetch quest happen by waiting. But the truth is the game is just as much to blame for not signposting these things well, and “blame” isn’t really the point, anyway. If a person plays a game the only way they know how, and the way that makes the most sense for them, their experiences are valid. Categorically. Full stop.

Elsewhere, as part of Aevee Bee’s always-splendid ZEAL e-zine, Joshua Trevett offers up a compelling essay on cs_gonehome, a mod which places Counter-Strike combat within the domestic space of Fullbright Company’s Gone Home. We soon find out that it’s more than a cheap gimmick:

[Counter-Strike] is a game about guns. CS loves guns. Conversely, cs_gonehome feels as though it’s fearful of guns. That’s because in three broad ways, cs_gonehome plays quite differently from Counter-Strike on a typical map.

And, over on 99 Percent Invisible, Roman Mars chronicles the demise of EA’s misbegotten Sims Online, and in doing so reflects on the challenges of games preservation to capture the essence of multiplayer and social games.

The Reason So Many Babies are Born in November

As Valentine’s Day covered the Earth in its rose-petaled grip last Saturday, the thoughts of many writers turned to… well, you know. You can consider most of these links not safe for work, just to be on the safe side.

For example, Damion Schubert took a look at — don’t giggle — a masturbation rhythm game titled Cock Hero. Meanwhile, following another (perhaps classier) thread of erotica, Emily Short surveys recent trends in the sphere of adult interactive fiction (“choose your own erotica”), much of it written by and for women and queer authors.

And naturally, the singular and sensual Cara Ellison has devoted the most recent entry of her S.EXE column over on Rock, Paper, Shotgun to… a search for good platonic male-female friendships in games, coming upon the LucasArts classic Full Throttle. You didn’t expect that, did you? Ms. Ellison will not be boxed in!

The Play’s the Thing

On As Houses, Leigh Harrison attempts to pin down just what it is about Far Cry 2 which has made it a classic:

It’s a game in which your main objective is to shoot things, but also a game which wants you to question the validity of its own existence and those of its contemporaries. It makes you feel insignificant and weak in a genre built upon power, forcing you into the arms of dangerous strangers to make up some of the deficit. […] Your final betrayal is the game’s way of making sure you’re listening when it tells you for the last time that war is horrible, that it corrupts and eventually makes liars and thieves – or corpses – of us all. In the end, the only source of true conviction is the game itself.

Meanwhile, on Play the Past, Gilles Roy looks to the strong Greek mythological aesthetic of Apotheon and contends that there’s something about it which perfectly suits its gameplay:

The action hero of the video game resembles, in many ways, the action hero of Greek mythology: typically masculine, bereft of psychology, projected into a universe of vivid happenings, quasi-immortal, yet in a perpetual state of existential threat, fighting for redemption. Perched between life and death, the mythical hero exists as an “immovable centre”, a bridge between immortals and mortals, story and audience, game and player.

Design Notes

Hamish Todd, who wrote our excellent Level Design Analysis Spotlight, here does a deep dive on a particular room design in the first Doom. Elsewhere, George Weidman shares his enthusiasm for the Resident Evil REmake, and in particular analyzes just what makes it so splendid to play.

Critical Switch, a mini-podcast in which Austin Howe and our own Zolani Stewart trade off hosting duties each episode to tackle a particular short subject. In this episode, Howe explores how party size in Japanese role-playing games can take on a symbolic and narrative meaning.

On PopMatters Moving Pixels, Scott Juster wonders why death, such a mainstay of the Game of Thrones television show, is treated so inflexibly in Telltale’s game adaptation. And over on Virtual Narrative, Justin Keever and Miguel Penabella exchange a letter series on Max Payne 3 and discuss how, in a subtle way, it seems to tap the fourth wall just as the first game did:

Max Payne 3 is perhaps best explained as the residual effect of that cognizance [of the first game]. Loosed from Remedy’s penchant for ludicrousness and absorbed by neo-Rockstar’s proclivity towards straight-faced drama, Max Payne is finally imprisoned in a world that’s less parodic than it is abjectly cruel. Max Payne 3‘s São Paulo is a world of puppeteers, where the poor and desperate fall victim to the whims of the rich and petty in the name of microscopic gains in power – a world of deep systemic corruption whose agents permeate every level of society, like sickly veins extending from a diseased heart. Self-determination is a myth, a falsity for all but the affluent and empowered.


We didn’t pay for Max, we paid for an avatar – a puppet with the capability of violence, without the means to protest the things we make them do. But the nebulous “they” that Max refers to doesn’t simply mean the player.

In a striking essay, Jeroen D. Stout identifies what we might call a ‘Frankenstein moment’: when the systems of a game coalesce with the game’s fiction to reveal the finely tuned yet awful implications of the player’s actions. Given that Stout refers to Alpha Centauri for much of the article, this pairs well with a recent essay by Civilization 4 lead designer Soren Johnson — which we also featured on these pages — on system design deviating from developer intent.

Robert Rath paints a picture on the difference between ‘realism’ and ‘truth’ in war-themed games — and how for as many games are about warfare, few seem to have much to say. Meanwhile, on Paste, Austin Walker bemoans the lazy design and ableism inherent in the ubiquitous ‘sanity meter’ of horror games, while also looking to more recent titles like Darkest Dungeon to explore how they might offer a more nuanced, culturally responsible representation of mental illness:

Every adventurer starts with an empty stress meter and a few quirks, both positive and negative. These quirks represent a wide range of characteristics, from personal preferences to physical capabilities, from special knowledge to (yes) psychological diagnoses. But mental health isn’t treated as more or less important (or pathological) than other personal traits.


[One quirk is called] “Guilty Conscience.” The mouseover text says that [the character] “bears the crushing guilt of deeds real and imagined.” I slide the mouse cursor over this long list of red words and sigh. “I don’t even know if ‘Guilty Conscience’ has a real effect,” I say, “but it sounds bad.”

The critique Darkest Dungeon is making is of critique of me, and of the culture that taught me to read words like “crushing guilt” and wonder if it has a “real” effect on a person.

Writing for Reverse Shot, Brendan Keogh muses on how sports games simultaneously deploy immediacy (a feeling of inhabiting the game) and hypermediacy (a feeling of witnessing the game as a televised event). In response, Higher Level Gamer’s Nick Hanford advances another question: does hypermediacy (or remediation, as he refers to it) really holds water in games over time, and is it the most interesting aesthetic feedback loop going on between games and television?

Remediation works really well when we’re looking at the design of sports games and how they are marketed as new experiences, but I wonder what happens when players start their hundredth or two-hundredth contest in these games.


What I’m more intrigued by is how remediation can be opened up and understood as flowing in both directions. Television has certainly impacted the design of games, but games have also affected the ways that sports are televised. The late-1990’s saw the introduction of the Skycam for American football broadcasts that provided a videogame-like, bird’s-eye view of the game. While not directly related to the presentation of sports, this year EA started filming NFL rookies’ reactions to their in-game statistical representations. Along with that, sports journalists and game companies have pushed the official simulations of championship games for a few years now. If we have these specific instances of change flowing from game to television, I wonder how the experience of games also changes the experience of television.

Ice-T Woodenly Mentioning Kotaku

We have to at least talk about Law & Order: Special Victims Unit‘s recent Gamergate-themed episode, unfortunately. And of those who talk about it, Leigh Alexander, unsurprisingly talks about it best. In particular, while she does spend some time recapping the episode and its various problems (a Content Warning is in order for descriptions of sexual assault, stalking and harassment), but more broadly, the piece serves as a reflection back on certain core ideas from her (widely misinterpreted) “Gamers Are Over” editorial.

Cats Though

Thanks for reading! As always, we value your contributions and hope that you’ll take the time to send us a link — your own of someone else’s — for inclusion on these pages, either by Twitter mention or email!

There is still a little time to get involved in February’s Blogs of the Round Table and our monthly Let’s Play roundup as well! When submitting on Twitter for these, please use the #BoRT and #LetsPlayCD hashtags, respectively.

A little signal-boosting: the most recent issue of academic journal Game Studies has gone live with six new articles for your perusal.

Critical Distance is funded completely by its readership! If you like what you see and want to help us advance our current and upcoming features and other exciting projects, consider signing up for a small monthly donation on our Patreon! We really do depend on you.

Finally, a personal aside: I will be in San Francisco for the Game Developers Conference the first week of March, so TWIVGB duties will again be handled by members of our formidable team! And, if you find yourself up by GDC as well, come and say hi! I will have our special exclusive Critical Distance pins with me, as well as some surprise goodies!

That’s all for this week. Happy Cat Day!

January Roundup: ‘Player’s Choice’

Posted by Lindsey Joyce in Blogs of the Round Table: - (Comments Off on January Roundup: ‘Player’s Choice’)

I think we can all agree that yesterday was a big day. Here at Critical-Distance, we had an amazing new guest curator (Jill Murray!) to present This Week in Video Game Blogging, and there was also a big thing with lots of expensive ads to watch on TV – you guess it: the Puppy Bowl!  What with all that excitement, we wanted to hold back on the Blogs of the Round Table roundup to make sure you had time to take in and digest everything yesterday had to offer. Hopefully, you’re now recovered/recovering from yesterday’s happenings and are ready for an exciting roundup. This month’s theme was ‘Player’s Choice’

This month, we’re interested in hearing about self-regulated or self-inflicted rules. For instance, do you take stealth games so seriously that any detection causes you to restart from the last save point? Or maybe, when you played Skyrim you completed the game without once using a melee weapon? Alternately, perhaps you refuse to run left in side scrolling games – no backtracking allowed. Maybe you only ever allow yourself to rotate Tetris pieces two times. Maybe you played with an all female cast in Fire Emblem? Maybe, just maybe, you always choose the last dialogue option in games, no matter what it is. These are the circumstances we want to hear about: choices you make as a player that aren’t dictated or necessitated by the game, but which alter your experience and understanding of the game. Tell us about your choices and commitments to self-regulated play circumstances. Let’s talk about the resolutions you’ve made and how strong your resolve was in sticking to those modes of play.

Kicking us off this month, Oscar Strik of Sub Specie uses the theme to discuss the ways players create subgames and what the creation of those subgames reveal about play styles and player types. His analysis covers stealth play and  role play. Strik’s analysis also considers what happens when the play styles we once to incorporated ourselves become a part of the game itself. He says:

The more your specific playstyle becomes part of the official game rules, the less it becomes a game within a game.

Commodore Purry’s Cupcake Party contribution also discusses roleplay by musing over self-imposed roleplay in Fallout: New Vegas. Commodore Purry developed a list of constraints to make playing in hardcore mode even more meaningful. I won’t detail the list of constraints here, though there are some good ones, because the really interesting bit is in how the constraints changed morality in the game:

I felt myself playing the game differently as well as viewing my own morality in a more disposable way.

PeterZ was also thinking about morality this month. Over at One More Continue, PeterZ discusses the eternal conflict between the dedication to play as the bad guy when we’ve been socialized to want others to like us. This is especially difficult, PeterZ notes, when unlike real life, video games validate our goodness thereby making it even harder to be evil.

Taking a different tack, Phil of Tim and and Phil Talk About Games, took the opportunity to discuss ‘Player’s Choice’ in terms of multiplayer games – specifically Counterstrike. Phil describes his self-imposed play style is being comprised of ego (challenging himself to use challenging weapons) and empathy (considering whether everyone in-game is having a fun/good experience). Phil states,

These two tendencies–one which is essentially showing off and another that boils down to some kind of strange fairplay–might seem to be at odds with each other. But they find a home in exploring the joy of competition within the rules of the game. The theatre of it.

This month, Leigh Harrison also considered the theme in terms of a multiplayer setting: a Half Life mod in which a group of role players made the most of the mod’s limited amenities to create a rich world of interaction. Harrison then uses this as a springboard to compare and contrast the role player’s dedication to eschewing the game’s rules against his own, more “adversarial” mode of play.

Over at Depth of a Failsman, Taylor Hidalgo recalls his experience with Shenume and his exploration play that stretched and reformed the limits of its narrative. Hidalgo notes,

The more choice the game gave me, the more I pushed at the boundaries. However unorthodox, though, I don’t think the game ever made my choices “wrong,” per se. They never did more than waste a few minutes or yen, for the most part, and sometimes managed to help Ryo’s quest along.

Also considering the bounds of narrative, but this time through the lens of translation philosophies, The Rev catalogs an experiment in which a friend, Rick, plays through the original Japanese version of Catherine (Kyasarin) to see if the game is different in translation. To make the experiment more interesting, Rick must play with some other, alcoholic, parameters too. The end result, in addition to what I imagine would be a rough hangover, is that Rick’s perception of the characters and story did change.

In a similar vein, Zachary Kerr reflects back on his experience of trying to be a pacifist in Skyrim, and how playing this way revealed the inherently violent undertones of the game itself. He states,

My pacifistic experience reveals dissonance between the heroic tone of the game and the nature of the acts I’ve committed. There is Skyrim the story, and there is Skyrim the game. The clash between my story and the mechanics weakens the game for me. The game pretends that I am a hero while I commit severe crimes against other people.

Over at Vidyasaur, Steve Hernandez played through Castlevania: The Adventure and added one simple rule: No destroying candles unless required. Dorin remarks how much additional difficulty this adds to the game – stage 3 was impossible:

I didn’t make the game harder by changing the difficulty within a menu, I made it harder by choosing not to interact with a ubiquitous and useful element throughout my adventure.

Tom Holt talks about his experience with the (as he notes “poorly named”) Straight Character Challenge in Final Fantasy Tactics, and the six things he learned in the process. In addition to six specific learning outcomes, Holt also advises others to try playing with self-imposed rules and reflects,

self-imposed challenges are a great way to learn something. I strongly encourage everybody to try playing games in a new way, whether officiated or not. Limit your toolkit, and learn to adjust for the gaps. It’s like the old saying: When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.

I Think that’s a great thought on which to end this month’s roundup. I hope you enjoy reading this round of submissions as much as I did. It was great to see so many people contribute. If you haven’t already, feel free to use this code to embed the links in your blog (provided your publishing platform allows iframes, that is):

<iframe type=”text/html” width=”600″ height=”20″ src=”http://www.tinysubversions.com/bort.html?month=January15″ frameborder=”0″></iframe>

Also, make sure to check back tomorrow for Mark Filipowich’s February theme. I’ll look forward to your submissions!

Introducing: This Month in Let’s Plays!

Posted by Lindsey Joyce in Announcement: - (Comments Off on Introducing: This Month in Let’s Plays!)

Friends, we are excited to announce that Critical-Distance is branching out into new curation territory: Let’s Plays. For some time now, we’ve included Let’s Plays that engage critically with game content in our This Week in Videogame Blogging feature. As Let’s Plays become more popular avenues for people to engage with criticism, ideas, and play, we’d like to give them their own curatorial focus. With that in mind, we’re looking for submissions by Jan 31st for a pilot run of: This Month in Let’s Plays!

So, what are we looking for? Here are some examples:

Let’s Plays That Offer Criticism of a Particular Game:

For instance, Brendan Keogh’s critical Let’s Play of Modern Warfare

Or Cameron Kunzelman’s Let’s Play of Grand Theft Auto


Let’s Plays that Engage a Particular Issue Across Multiple Games:

While these may not be Let’s Plays in the most traditional sense, since they don’t show sustained play of a single game, these style of commentary allows us to use a visual medium to discuss other visual media: games.

Errant Signal provides some great source of this type. Take a look at this one on the concept of “fun”:


Historical/Preservation Let’s Plays

At this point Let’s Plays also allow us with a means to preserve, in some way, the play experience of games that – for the average player – are now hard to access due to the inaccessibility of outdated platforms.

Leigh Alexander has done some great work in this area already. For example, here’s her Let’s Play of Death in the Caribbean:


Multiplayer Lets Plays

Another advantage of Let’s Plays is that it affords the possibility of collaboration and dialogue between two players/critics/thinkers in real-time.

A great example of this type of Lets Play can be found at Stream Friends. Here’s their first Let’s Play of Knock-Knock:



Just because I haven’t listed it here doesn’t mean we aren’t looking for it. I’ve merely tried to identify some of the more common types of Let’s Play that have been emerging. In fact, let me take a moment to clarify what we aren’t looking for because, honestly, that might be easier: we aren’t looking for Let’s Plays that violate our Missions Statement in any way. We aren’t looking for Let’s Plays that add nothing to conversation about games or are simply straight video of a game being played. We aren’t always, necessarily, looking for video: Let’s Plays can take many forms including screenshot posts, Storified livetweets, and much more besides. So we welcome your critical eye as well as your creativity!

We hope you are as excited about this as we are. We’re eagerly awaiting your submissions which should be sent, as usual, via email or on twitter. Please use the hashtag #LetsPlayCD.