My excitement for Watch Dogs is inversely proportional to
hype surrounding its release -- and directly proportional to the amount of time
left until said release.
I can remember a time
when I thought that the game would be something new, exciting, and interesting,
and actually looked forward to seeing more of it. But from what I’ve seen and what I could
gather, and with the knowledge gained from what are now semi-historical
precedents (and recent concerns), I’m not feeling very confident about its
quality. Is Aiden Pearce going to be
more than just a bland, designated hero living out a revenge fantasy? Probably not.
Is the gameplay and game at large going to offer up something better
than what we’ve seen in the open-world genre?
Probably not. Is the story going
to have something meaningful to say and do more than just name-check real-world
concerns? Probably not. And I feel bad about thinking the way I do
right now; once upon a time, I would have been eager to try Watch Dogs, or anything coming down the
pipeline. Now it feels like I have to wait for people to announce that the newest release is anything above "not terrible". Look at what you’ve done to me, video games.
Well, maybe this is
just a sign that I need to stay away from triple-A games forever for a
while. Tokyo Jungle has been plenty good to me recently, after all, so
it’s not like I’m ready to wash my hands of this woeful medium.
And then there’s Transistor.
Oh dear, is there ever.
One of the greatest
injustices out there, I’ve found, is that there are smart and talented
individuals -- groups and companies full of them -- who have the skill and
vision to make something amazing, but the only thing holding them back is the
amount of money in the war chest. Okay,
it’s true that indie games can and often do succeed despite (or maybe because
of) the fact that they can’t wave away all their problems with the Money Wand,
but still.
I just can’t help but imagine what the gaming
landscape would be like if those that deserved ALL OF THE MONEY actually had
it. Think of what the world would be
like if Atlus had the money and resources of, say, Square-Enix (pre-2013/Tomb Raider failure woes). Think of the glory of Persona 6 (or even Persona 5)
releasing during a console generation, instead of at the tail-end once
everyone’s moved on and they’ve rolled up enough quarters from the couch. I wouldn’t mind being in chains if that
happened.
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For what it’s worth,
though? If it’s true that absolute power
(in this case money) absolutely corrupts, then maybe it’s for the best that Transistor is a more modest game. Instead of trying to “appeal to a wider
audience” or any of that garbage, it’s content with being the very best game it
can be. And it is the very best game it could be.
It’s overflowing with style, it’s got a sick-as-hell combat system, and
it actually feels like it has something to say -- well beyond the half-assed
scraping at controversial topics and real-world issues for legitimacy. It’s a lean, mean slicing machine.
…Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut(t)…
Notice the word choice
there. Note that I said “the very best
game it could be”, instead of something more obvious or direct, like “it’s a
good game”. That’s not to say that it’s bad, by ANY means. Merely the fact that it exists is something
to be happy about, and if supporting it means giving its developer Supergiant
Games a shot at becoming a true tour de force, then by all means support it. Indeed, it has plenty of merit, and isn’t
just riding on the coattails of Bastion (or
the just-as-fallacious mindset that “it’s an indie game, so it MUST be perfect
and amazing!”). But if we want the devs
-- any devs -- to get better, we have to be critical about what they put before
us. We have to take its offerings,
positive or negative, into consideration.
That’s what should determine the quality of a game. Not just some divine right.
And while I like the
game, let’s be real here: it’s a long shot from divine. Though I could be biased. This game makes me…well, let’s say “flare up”
for now. But I’ll get to that.
So what’s the story
behind the game? Well, you play as Red,
a singer who’s making a name for herself in the city of Cloudbank, a futuristic
world so integrated with technology that it might as well be in a computer (or
maybe it IS in a computer). But things
take a sour turn when there’s an assassination attempt on her life, she’s
forced on the run, and she’s lost her voice.
And also, there’s some unsavory business involving The Process -- some
collection of cyber-monsters, I take it -- erasing the city and the people in
it, piece by piece. As these things tend
to go, it’s up to Red to sort the mess out -- and she’ll do it with the help of
the mysterious USB stick sword, Transistor…which ends up downloading and taking
on the consciousness of a man it stabbed to death in the midst of the
assassination. Whoopsie-doodle!
I would call the game
100% original if not for the specter of Mega
Man Battle Network hanging over it, because the more I think about Transistor, the more it reminds me of
that buried series (and to a lesser extent, the
outright-unfair awesomeness of SearchMan.EXE). But for what it’s worth? I’d rather a game copied Battle Network instead of the zombie apocalypse du jour because
there’s a lot you can do with the
“cyber world” concept. And Transistor is proof of that; there are
terminals tucked away everywhere that let passerby comment on posts, take part
in polls, and even decide what color the sky will be that day. Virtual rooms can be created, and practically
act as alternate dimensions. The powers
you inevitably end up wielding are programs -- and more importantly, contain
the essences of what I can only assume are the dead.
I didn’t think about it
too hard, though. I got distracted --
for obvious reasons.
I have my doubts that Transistor could ONLY be possible on the
PS4 (it’s on the PC as well, but I’m under the impression that some tweaking
could make it as good as or better than consoles). But what’s important is that rather than
using the hardware to show the same old, same old, but with 44% more particles, it uses smart and stylish design to
create a game that’s better-looking than a lot of its likely more-powerful
peers. It’s the difference between raw
graphical power and design-conscious aesthetics. Conscious thought and effort went into making
every area look beautiful, or at least interesting; the game may take place in
an increasingly-disheveled cyber world, but scene after scene looks like
something out of a painting. It’s an
interesting contrast, for sure.
But who gives a crap
about DEM GRAFFECS? It’s all about the
gameplay -- and that’s easily Transistor’s
strongest suit.
Here’s how it
works. Once an area gets sealed off and
cyber-monsters pop in, you go into battle mode.
The four face buttons each give Red a different type of attack to use at
your leisure, and you have to make good use of them to survive. It’s actually a little reminiscent of The Wonderful 101, in the sense that
you’re fighting in isometric arenas with a bunch of crazy powers. (Or again, Battle Network -- if you’re willing to reach a bit). The key difference is that there’s a
turn-based element to combat by way of your “Turn()” power; you stop time and
use your stocked meter to execute a string of attacks in one go, all according
to your designs. It’s a useful power, no
question, but what makes it so great is that it’s actually pretty versatile.
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Each move you make in
Turn() mode takes a chunk of your meter, be it an attack or just walking
through the field. That’s where the
strategy starts to come in; do you want to unload everything you’ve got in one
furious burst? Or do you want to use
your Turn as a defensive measure, scoring a few free potshots before ducking
behind cover? I only ask because it’s
possible to go half-and-half, but more importantly it might be a requirement to use your Turns
wisely.
Setting aside the fact
that there’s a pretty long cooldown on your Turn, during which you can’t attack at all, this is a game
where you need to be able to attack furiously, but also know how to defend
yourself. You get a dashing move early
on that kind of helps, but one good
way to stay safe is to use your Turn to get in some heavy hits, and then take
whatever’s left and run behind cover.
The penalty for taking too many hits in a fight is that one that I think
is kind of brilliant: you lose access to
one of your powers. There’s no
better way to punish a player and put on the pressure than taking away one of
his toys.
I would assume that by
this point, everyone who’s touched the game has gone gaga over the
customization aspect, so I’ll try to keep it brief. Yes, it’s really good; you can mix and match
your powers to give them different properties, so that you not only get to
“play your way”, but also get a toolbox the size of a skyscraper. Example: that dash-move I mentioned earlier? It doesn’t do much on its own, but you can
couple that with a mind-control power so that every time you dash past an
enemy, you can temporarily have it fight on your side.
It’s not hard for me to
imagine the possibilities, and create a character that actually relies on subterfuge for once; it didn’t take long for me
to become a friend-summoning, enemy-controlling, splash-damaging,
bomb-debilitating swordswoman. Nor was
it all that difficult. Nor is that
likely the be-all and end all of combinations.
I’m kind of eager to see what other crazy combos I can come up with…so
that I can unleash some crazy combos on the field.
If I had to point out a
fault in the combat system, it’d be that the cooldown time is longer than it
should be. I know that the idea was to
make you consider using your Turns wisely, but you’re a sitting duck for a long
time afterward, even if you’re tucked behind a wall. Even a few seconds of inaction means a lot
in…you know, an action game. Also, I
know that if you screw around and “die” you lose one of your powers
temporarily, but in my experience that only happened sometimes. Other times, I’d get an “emergency Turn” and
got to act like nothing had gone wrong.
I guess I just pulled the trigger at the right time or something? Or did it activate on its own? What are the requirements, if not random?
But don’t let those
complaints get to you. Those are
nitpicks -- and minor ones, at that.
There’s absolutely no reason why those should scare you off, because the
positives far outweigh the negatives.
Taken solely as a game, Transistor
is much stronger, much more thought-out, and much more effective than games
a dozen times more bloated bigger.
10/10, would play again.
…Is what I would like
to say.
But there are other
problems that I have with the game.
Depending on your preferences, what I’m about to say next is going to
just come off as me griping thanks to my perspective and biases. It’s not something to be taken as the gospel,
and definitely not in an objective sense.
I take issue with a lot
of the other things Transistor does. Maybe not everything, but enough to make me
wary of it. Enough to keep me from being
won over by goodwill alone. And one of
those issues is also one of its loudest.
Simply put, Transistor
-- the titular sword and the game at large -- never shuts the hell up.
I get it, though. I know that it’s a consequence of Red being a
silent protagonist (and let’s not think too hard about the implication that we
can get playable female leads as long as they don’t talk, yes?), and there’s a
lot of information that can overwhelm the player. Fair point.
But here’s the thing: I don’t need all that information
projectile-vomited at me by a sword that’s almost always talking. I want to be able to explore this strange and
mysterious world on my own terms. I
don’t need Transistor to play tour guide, and certainly not try to color my
perception with his melancholic rambling.
But it does anyway, and weakens the game as a result.
Thanks to The Process,
Cloudbank is an increasingly-silent world.
It’s haunting, but there’s a sense of grace and wonder regardless
(though again, the visuals help). By
design I want to be free to conduct a personal investigation of the world, and
come to my own conclusions, whether I’m on-the-money or way off-base. But I can’t do that when I’ve got someone
telling me where to go, how I should feel, and doing its best to reinforce the
obvious idea that “things are bad”. I
want to figure out for myself why this world is special. Why I should care about it.
But that just
highlights another problem: I don’t know if I can care about Cloudbank. Because more often than not, I feel like it
doesn’t care about me. It just wants to be pretty.
I don’t mean that in
the sense that the story should try to reward Red/the player just for
existing. But it’s an issue that keeps
rearing up, and making sure I can’t get the most out of the game. Here’s my problem: even if there are things
happening in the present time, I feel like all the cool and interesting stuff
happened long beforehand. Everything I
could possibly care about or even want may very well have been relegated either
to background noise or backstory.
Slaying cyber-demons with a giant sword is cool, no question, but it’s
not as impactful as some of the informed and implied stuff throughout. I’m hungry for that context, and I want to
see it unfold before my eyes instead of having the details tossed to me
retroactively.
Now, am I saying that Transistor fails because, say, we don’t
get to see what it was like for (or even play as) Red when she was still in her
songstress phase? No, of course
not. It’s entirely possible that adding
thoe things in could also hurt the
game, if not by way of execution, then by being someone else’s pet peeve. But context is important, and I feel like the
game would have more of a punch to it if I got to experience events and meet
characters firsthand. Red has some clear
history with the first boss, Sybil -- but as a player and a distant observer I
don’t get to feel what I should be feeling.
The most I have to rely on -- to make that emotional connection -- is
Transistor trying to explain why this character is important. Or telling me that she’s “lost her damn mind”
when she turns into a freaking cyber-demon.
Transistor’s approach reminds me a little of games like BioShock, among plenty of others that
rely on found audio logs/journals/records/datalogs to fill in the gaps. How am I supposed to feel when I read/hear
about cool stuff happening in the past, and I’m effectively picking up the
pieces -- or better yet, finding out what should be (awesome) common
knowledge?
Granted, a game like BioShock Infinite offset this by giving
Booker and Elizabeth something immediate (and interesting) to do during their
adventure, but I feel like it’s more likely to do it wrong than to do it
right. The question I have to ask is
this: as a gamer, which would I rather experience for myself? The present-day stuff where I play warrior
janitor and sort out the mess? Or an
actual participant in the events that led up to it?
Damn it. It’s the War of Transgression
all over again.
In any case, I have to
bring up this issue with Transistor because
it feels like I’m missing something I desperately want. Remember how I said that the powers you wield
have the essences of people in them?
Well, they also carry their bios and backstories. Use/customize a power, and you learn more
about the person within. The dash-attack
has the soul of a racer, for example, and Sybil’s inside a summoning
ability. And apparently, unlocking these
bios is a reward for exploring the combat system.
That’s cool and all,
but the question is, why should I care?
I’m not saying that to be cruel; I’m saying it because I have no basis
of attachment or even understanding for these characters. Why would I want to learn more about Sybil
given that the first time I met her, she turned into a cyber-demon? Why would she retroactively become more
meaningful after her death? What’s the
allure of unlocking what’s essentially a codex entry at best and an obituary at
worst?
I get the feeling that Transistor is trying to be a thoughtful
and emotional experience instead of just an action RPG where you kill
cyber-demons. I don’t have any problems
admitting that it’s thoughtful, and saying that Supergiant games succeeded on
that front. But the problem is that in
terms of emotional appeal, for me the game falls flat. I’m having a hard time getting invested the
way it wants me to.
In most instances I’m actively hoping for Transistor to
clam up, so I can’t say he’s grown on me -- and despite that, he ends up butting
in on Red’s character moments -- which are in there despite her being forcibly
muted -- just in case I’m too thick to come to my own conclusions. There’s an unmistakable air of melancholy in
the game, but I have a hard time feeling it when I don’t have an understanding
of why that melancholy exists, and
worse yet I don’t feel it because I’m too busy having a kickass time firing
Double Reppukens. It’s almost as if they
shouldn’t have tried to join an action game and a drama at the hip.
Now, I’m not going to
say that it can’t be done, but there’s a pretty big disparity between the joy
the game lets you feel and the gloom the game wants you to feel. You could
probably argue that about a LOT of games, but let’s focus on Transistor for now; it’s more than a
little eyebrow-raising when L1 makes Red stand in place and hum forlornly with
the background music, while R1 lets her toss up her sword and do some fancy
flips. The pieces don’t come together as
well as they should, which makes me wonder if they should have been there in
the first place.
I’m not going to say
that Transistor has entered any form
of failure state (it hasn’t), but there’s been a concern niggling at the back
of my mind for a while. The game is
trying to be sad, weighty, and meaningful, which is fine…to an extent. The problem I have is that I can’t help but
wonder how different it would be -- or dare I say it, how much better it would
be -- if it lightened up a little. Don’t
get me wrong, I like that oppressive affect it’s got. But at the same time, I can’t shake the
feeling that it’s trying to be sad for sadness’ sake. Trying to wring out emotions without putting
in the work first. Trying to live by certain “ironclad”
rules and expectations. Even if it
hasn’t crossed that precipice, it’s still on a steep slope; I’m not going to
call it emotionally manipulative, but the potential is definitely there.
I’m ready for a game to
affect me emotionally, as
they have
in
the past. But I want them to do it right. They have to earn it -- not just go for it
because “that’s just a thing you do -- FOR GLORY!”
At least the game
doesn’t bank solely on acoustic guitars and girls looking sad.
But you know what? It’s
just like I said earlier: I still think that Transistor is a good game.
Really good. It may tug on some
of my mental tripwires, but those come from my personal preferences, not from
objective complaints. What bothers me
has absolutely no guarantee of bothering you.
It’s entirely possible that I’ve just over-thought things, or I’m letting
my biases get the better of me…again.
But even if they are,
there’s a hidden benefit: honestly, I’m glad to be able to have thoughts like
this about a game. Given that my
last in-depth look at a game had to go into grave detail about how
inordinately stupid it was (as is usually the case), it’s good to be able to
think more critically about the themes and techniques used instead of just
worrying about if a plot element makes sense.
So on that note, I hope you took away something from my string of
grievances; I don’t mind if you disagree with me, but I care immensely if you
or anyone else walks away from Transistor
thinking that it’s a TENOUTTATEN game.
No such game exists. The sooner
we realize that -- the sooner we realize that and think critically about the
games we play -- the better off we’ll all be.
All told, though? We need more games like Transistor. It’s not
perfect, but it’s doing its best to raise the bar.
And that’ll just about
do it. I hope you enjoyed this short
post, and --
*checks word count*
I hope you enjoyed this
post, and took something away from it.
And likewise, I hope you enjoy the game (or download it, if you haven’t
already). As for me? Well, I think I’m going to start pecking away
at my backlog some more. I’d like to
finish Ni no Kuni sometime this
decade so I can return to Valkyria
Chronicles. Nothing warms the
cockles of my hot dog-laden heart like a good JRPG, after all. So let’s just see what’s on the docket and
see how things go from
Oh, poop.
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