If I was a bat – like a real live, nocturnal, flying mammal who navigates the sky with the help of sonar – I’d have real problems with the way my species was portrayed in videogames. I mean, movies already give bats a bad name. You’d think all bats do is fly noisily out of caves, like a cloud of vermin sending the womenfolk into a tizzy. Never mind the vital ecological contributions of plant pollination and seed dispersal that bats do every day with nary a “thank you.”
It is a commonplace that horror games draw on the stock character of the “criminally insane” to create their bogeymen and bad guys. Even reasonably uncomplicated titles, like PlayStation’s original Crash Bandicoot, had a little of that flavour: the Hammer Horror mad scientist who enjoys nothing better than genetically splicing innocent island creatures while cackling maniacally at his plans, even if this was set in a world of Wumpa fruit, floating platforms and totem poles.
I can’t quite remember when I started following Paul Alexander on Twitter – probably some time during the early development of République, the newly launched stealth game by Camouflaj, the independent studio formed by Metal Gear vet Ryan Payton. I probably pressed follow and forgot, but over the last year or so, I’ve found myself to be somewhat simpatico, for lack of a better word, with the young designer. So when Alexander queried me about an interview (wait, is that how it’s supposed to work?) I didn’t think twice. I knew he’d be somebody I enjoyed talking to about games, art and ambitions. I hope you enjoy reading our chat and are inspired to
Last week, the Los Angeles Times informed me that I am weird. This, I already knew, but it is nice to see the confirmation in print. It turns out that only 1% of married couples with children of a certain age include a stay-at-home dad. Since this March (more or less), I have been one of that particular one percent. I wrote a little bit about what it’s like to be my particular flavor of new parent before. It involved much moaning and wailing about finding time to play videogames. I can report that a couple of months on, things
Rules are meant to be read, not followed – or so the mentality goes. That’s where I invariably step in. Silent limitations are given a voice. Chaos is contained. Rebellion is met with a metal cage. Passes at “imagination” to save one’s skin are denied. And decisions only have finality after being scanned for correctness, like a manic security drone equipped to stun threats without hesitation.
2013 saw the creation of Unwinnable’s Board Game Club. Maybe you’ve seen the hashtags on Twitter or the numerous photos on Instagram. On January 19, 2013, Stu asked the question, “Anyone want to play a board game tonight?” Like the Founding Fathers, four men descended upon Unwinnable headquarters that night to take part in a battle of wits and cunning. Nearly every week since, we’ve played board games.
How do you compare Grand Theft Auto V with Papers, Please? Or Assassin’s Creed IV with Gone Home? These are the kinds of questions that have defined 2013. In the year after small studio games dominated the conversation, we’ve not entered the Indie Promised Land. Instead, we found ourselves in a strange landscape, of new consoles no one cares about, of endless debates, of thoughtful AAA games and ephemeral indies. We spent several annoying months hearing people ask, “Is this even a game?” This is all good news. The binaries – indie vs AAA, formalist vs zinester, LOL vs Dota
