Game Log #11 (Reflection): Summing it All Up

Looking on back on the various topics I discussed in my Game Logs, I am actually surprised by the lack of constant themes that tie my logs together. I find it pretty impressive that the games I chose were able to spawn unique topics of conversation that did not overlap with each other, especially when considering the … Continue reading Game Log #11 (Reflection): Summing it All Up

Looking on back on the various topics I discussed in my Game Logs, I am actually surprised by the lack of constant themes that tie my logs together. I find it pretty impressive that the games I chose were able to spawn unique topics of conversation that did not overlap with each other, especially when considering the fact that one of my games was Ratchet and Clank (not exactly a work renowned for its intellectual musings). There are some notable similarities, however, between some of the topics I discuss in my posts and posts authored by other members of the class. While on a base level this is perhaps not the most earth-shattering revelation, given the fact that as a group we studied the same topics and read many of the same assignments, I do find it interesting the Game Logs of my classmates actually serve to support some of my arguments and suggest that my posts were not simply incoherent ramblings.

For instance, Patrick’s post on death in Infinity Blade III relates to the concept of death in games that I discuss in Game Log #10, specifically in how we both explore how games can use death as a mechanic that ultimately leads to the development of a player’s skill. While Patrick tends to focus more on how this mechanic assisted his immersion in the gameplay, we both come to similar conclusions that death does not always act as a simple punishment for the player. Instead, it can provide a player with greater knowledge, skill, and power that will assist their next attempt. Another one of Patrick’s posts discusses the definition of a casual game in a way that mirrors my thoughts in Game Log #5, in that we both played iPhone games that defied the simplistic tropes tied to most mobile experiences. Several posts also discuss race in a manner that reflects some of the discussion I attempt to carry out in Game Log #6. Sam’s mention of potentially unintentional racial undertones in the intro of Grand Theft Auto V and Desmond’s exploration of Arab representation in Metal Gear Solid V point to the sort of conclusions I make concerning the depiction of Lee’s character in The Walking Dead. 

I found Violet’s take on The Last of Us to be particularly intriguing. While her analysis tends to center around feminist critique, it also shares some interesting parallels to the popularity of zombie media I discuss in Game Log #7. I argue throughout my post that the recent decline in zombie games and the continued popularity of The Walking Dead can be attributed to a lack of public interest in the same old shoot-em-up gameplay that has characterized zombie games for years. The personal, human issues discussed in The Walking Dead are at the forefront of its appeal, with the apocalypse setting eventually fading into the background. I found it interesting that Violet’s distain for The Last of Us’ inability to accomplish anything interesting with its protagonists’ relationship resulted in her calling the game “another tired hyper-masculine experience.”

I am satisfied with the similarities that cross between my posts and the posts of my peers, as they allow me to fill in the gaps where my Game Logs  fail to speak to each other. If I had to find a significant similarity that exists between two of my blogs, however, I would have to point to the personal anecdotes I use in Game Log #3’s discussion of Bioshock’s music and the gameplay of Halo I mention in Game Log #10. In both of these instances I used memories of my old gaming days that I had not thought of in years in order to prove my points. In writing Game Logs about them, I was able to determine what it was about these memories that made them so special to me in the first place. This was certainly an educational and valuable experience, as I was able to greater contextualize the joy I felt playing Bioshock and Halo for the first time all those years ago.

Game Log #10 (Ratchet and Clank): Developing Expertise

First of all, I would like to acknowledge that I recognize the tendency of my previous Game Logs on Ratchet and Clank to reflect the game in a somewhat negative light. In truth, the game is actually of very high quality and I could tell throughout my playthrough that it was made with great care. While the game’s lack of … Continue reading Game Log #10 (Ratchet and Clank): Developing Expertise

First of all, I would like to acknowledge that I recognize the tendency of my previous Game Logs on Ratchet and Clank to reflect the game in a somewhat negative light. In truth, the game is actually of very high quality and I could tell throughout my playthrough that it was made with great care. While the game’s lack of a sense of self may have thrown me for a loop and caused me to reflect, I still found that my overall experience was positive. When the time came for me to research what has been written about Ratchet and Clank, I sought to investigate reasons behind why the game was still able to provide me with entertainment despite some of its narrative quirks.

I ended up finding the answer to this question in James Paul Gee’s piece “Learning by Design: Games as Learning Machines,” in which he reflects on how the fun nature of games can effectively teach players specific skills. Part of his investigation discusses the reasons behind why certain games are entertaining, and a previous installment of Ratchet and Clank, entitled Ratchet and Clank: Going Commando (2003), serves as one of his primary examples. Gee characterizes Ratchet and Clank as a game that is “pleasantly frustrating,” one that gives players a sense that they have the ability to overcome a game’s challenges with practice. As Gee writes, players of “pleasantly frustrating” games feel “at the outer edge of, but within, their ‘regime of competence.’ That is, these challenges feel hard, but doable. Furthermore, learners feel—and get evidence—that their effort is paying off in the sense that they can see, even when they fail, how and if they are making progress” (19). When I think back on my time playing Ratchet and Clank, I find that this sense of achievable progression served as both a source of enjoyment and the primary motivator behind why I continued to press on through the levels. In fact, I ended up playing Ratchet and Clank for double the amount of time I played Bioshock or The Walking Dead for these Game Logs, as I found myself constantly challenged by Ratchet and Clank in a way that pushed me forward. Eventually, I had to force myself put down the controller in order to take care of other work. 

Gee lists Halo as an example of another game that stands in the “pleasantly frustrating” category, an assessment that I fully agree with. The original Halo is one of a my favorite games, and my ability to play through it on Legendary difficulty is one of my proudest gaming achievements. What I loved about Halo was that each level was separated into a progression of rooms, with checkpoints situated between each section. With death after death, I would come to know exactly which enemies were in the room and which actions I needed to take in order to dispatch them. Eventually, I would develop an exact routine for how to deal with a room, one that involved a series of steps that needed to be performed in a precise order (throwing a grenade at a specific angle right before meleeing an unsuspecting elite and sprinting towards a rocket launcher, for instance). Like a videogame version of Bill Murray from Groundhog Day, repeated deaths would turn me into a master of the level, and this sense of absolute expertise was incredibly satisfying when it led to victory.

While Ratchet and Clank did not give me the extreme enjoyment that Halo did, it still managed to use the pursuit of expertise as one of its primary mechanics as a “pleasantly frustrating” game. Ratchet and Clank is not a hard game, but it does offer some challenging scenarios that require multiple attempts. In these moments, like in Halo, I was forced to use death as my ally as I developed a strategy for overcoming the challenge. I think this accounts for much of the enjoyment I felt while playing Ratchet and Clank, and why I was able to look past my initial grievances and play for much longer than I had anticipated.

 

Source:

Gee, James Paul. “Learning by Design: Games as Learning Machines.” Interactive Educational Multimedia 8 (2010): 15-23.

Game Log #9 (Ratchet and Clank): The Meta-Narrative

One of Ratchet and Clank’s defining characteristics is its self-referential nature and awareness that it is a video game. Ratchet and Clank regularly makes strides to make this clear to player, to a point that almost comes across as excessive. For instance, the game’s narrative is framed as a story of Ratchet and Clank’s exploits told by the character Captain … Continue reading Game Log #9 (Ratchet and Clank): The Meta-Narrative

One of Ratchet and Clank’s defining characteristics is its self-referential nature and awareness that it is a video game. Ratchet and Clank regularly makes strides to make this clear to player, to a point that almost comes across as excessive. For instance, the game’s narrative is framed as a story of Ratchet and Clank’s exploits told by the character Captain Qwark after the game’s events have already passed. The character he relates the story to, named Shiv Helix, professes that he is a “huge fan of Ratchet and Clank” and he “can’t wait to play the new video game” based on their heroic tale.  The game’s sense of cynicism that I discussed in my last Game Log ties directly into this attitude, as the game acknowledges its existence as a reboot by having several characters from past installments reflect on this out loud.

From its opening moments, Ratchet and Clank makes numerous similar winks and nods towards the player. I think this may be an effort on the part of the developers to give Ratchet and Clank a carefree and fun vibe. In all fairness, the game is a colorful platformer that rarely punishes a player’s failures and features weapons like a disco bomb that cause enemies to dance to their deaths. By instilling the game with an attitude of self-awareness, Insomniac strives to paint the Ratchet and Clank universe as one of adventure, fun and a lack of serious consequences.

However, while in-game remarks about the Ratchet and Clank’ series’ high quality can be read as meta, they also can reflect a sort of insecurity, as if the game is telling itself that it is good. I do not think that this was the primary or conscious intention of the developers, but it still was one of the first thoughts that occurred to me while playing the game. As a player that has never had a significant experience playing Ratchet and Clank before, I immediately questioned why the game felt the need pat itself on the back before I even had the chance to try it.

In the consideration of Ratchet and Clank’s meta-narrative, I am drawn to the discussions on meta games that we have had in our own class. Having played and seen some of the meta games created by my classmates, I am struck by the similarities that some of these game’s share with Ratchet and Clank. Like many of the class’ projects, Ratchet and Clank is aware that it is a video game, and therefore functions as a video game about games. Notability, however, none of the class’ games use this self-referential attitude in order to validate themselves as Ratchet and Clank does. Ratchet and Clank’s meta attitude ultimately serves to further the general uncomfortableness its seems to have with existing. While the game’s tendency to compliment itself runs counter to the cynicism and self-loathing that I have previously discussed in Game Log #8, it ultimately contributes to a general vibe of strangeness that becomes one of Ratchet and Clank’s defining characteristics. In the pursuit charm, Ratchet and Clank achieves a feeling quite the opposite. Like someone desperately fishing for compliments, Ratchet and Clank becomes defined by a disconcerting lack of self-assuredness.

 

Game Log #8 (Ratchet and Clank): Developer Cynicism

I’ll admit right off the bat that it was not my intention to play the 2016 reboot of Ratchet and Clank as my third game for these Game Logs. However, due to a series of technical difficulties, I found myself rummaging through a friend’s game collection looking for an alternative to Shadow of the Colossus. I stumbled upon Ratchet and … Continue reading Game Log #8 (Ratchet and Clank): Developer Cynicism

I’ll admit right off the bat that it was not my intention to play the 2016 reboot of Ratchet and Clank as my third game for these Game Logs. However, due to a series of technical difficulties, I found myself rummaging through a friend’s game collection looking for an alternative to Shadow of the Colossus. I stumbled upon Ratchet and Clank, and decided to go for it. I had heard of Ratchet and Clank previously and knew it to be a Playstation classic, though my only experience playing it came from a brief stint trying out one of the series’ spin-offs on a PSP many years ago. I figured playing through a reboot of a classic series could give me some unique points to consider.

My first impression of Ratchet and Clank was one that really surprised me: it seems to be a game that sort of detests its own existence. The game is rife with a sense of cynicism, constantly referencing the fact that it is retreading old material. Characters that have appeared in previous installments state phrases like “oh, you look familiar,” or “see you in the next reboot,” while other bits of dialogue express a detest for pre-order content, a practice that has recently become a big-budget game staple.

While I would have thought that the game’s developers would have been happy to create an edition of Ratchet and Clank fit for a new age of consoles, the game is full of a sense of angst toward the need to start everything from the beginning. The quips appear to be directed against the corporate interests that demanded Ratchet and Clank start its story over, with the game’s main villain being a disdainful corporate industrialist that cares little for the people that consume his products. The nature of the game to reflect a distain for itself causes me to think that the developers were annoyed at the idea of tossing out the relationship between Ratchet and Clank that they have developed over the course of the series’ numerous installments. I can understand how having to scrap everything and start from the beginning could be a trying experience for a veteran game studio like Insomniac that has spent years building the Ratchet and Clank story.

There is also a chance that I am misinterpreting interpreting Ratchet and Clank’s sarcasm for angry cynicism. Perhaps the game’s tendency to reference its reboot nature comes from  a sense of self assuredness that Insomniac has developed over the years as an experienced game studio. My reading of the game’s attitude, however, is one that I had never experienced playing a game before. Never before have I felt like a game was constantly trying to tell me about its feelings on the manner in which it was made, and the result left me feeling somewhat uncomfortable.