Going the Extra Meter

My first fighting games were all 3d, and they followed the traditional rules of 3d fighters: no hit-pauses, no crouching blocks against mids, and no super meters. I didn't give supers a second thought-- I figured they were just another move, which meant little considering 3d fighters had easily 10 to 20 times the move set as their 2d brethren.

After a year of analyzing competitive fighting games at a high level, I am now of the opinion that the super meter is the single most ingenious, elegant addition to the genre since character variety.

First of all, super moves not only add to a player's arsenal, but affect all the non-super moves and abilities as well. Let's consider the Ryu vs Blanka matchup in Street Fighter 4:

No-meter Ryu vs. No-meter Blanka

• Ryu's fireball is SAFE against Blanka outside slide range
• Ryu's uppercut very UNSAFE against blocking Blanka
• Blanka's horizontal ball is SAFE against blocking Ryu

Half-meter Ryu vs Half-meter Blanka

• Ryu's fireball now UNSAFE against charged Blanka (threat of EX-Ball)
  
• Ryu's uppercut now SAFE against blocking Blanka (via FADC)
  
• Blanka's horizontal ball still SAFE

Full-meter Ryu vs Full-meter Blanka

• Ryu's fireball still UNSAFE against charged Blanka
• Ryu's uppercut still SAFE against blocking Blanka
• Blanka's horizontal ball now UNSAFE to blocking Ryu (punishable with Super)
  

The addition of the super meter in Street Fighter 4 dynamically changes the relationships of the existing moves, creating an ebb and flow of the match as these meters are built and burned. Compare this to a traditional 3d fighter, in which every move has the same level of safety (i.e. risk) regardless of who has the upper hand in the match, or how long the match has run.

Meter changes the dynamic of the match enough that it presents a new metagame: to be in control of the super meters is to be in control of the match. This presents meaningful choices to be made other than the basic objective of "Deplete the opponent's vitality," presenting far more options to the player in a given situation.

On Offense:

• Sacrifice combo damage to save meter?
• Sacrifice offensive pressure to bait meter usage from opponent?
  

On Defense:

• Sacrifice ability to block to whiff moves and build meter?
• Sacrifice meter (i.e. offensive capability) to avoid damage?
  

Other:

• Use meter to recover from mistakes?
• Intentionally allow opponent to win a round by using meter in order to have meter advantage the following round?
  

Through this metagame, super meters create a context around every decision made during the match. Obviously, a player's available options in a given situation are limited by how much meter he has, but the real beauty of this design is that his available options next time he is forced to make a choice are affected by his original decision.

Compare this to a 3d fighting game, where the player has every option available to him at all times. In a 2d fighter, the options available to a player change considering what he had done earlier in the round, and what he plans to do later on. Rather than a string of unrelated puzzles, a fight that involves meter must be thought of as different parts of the same story, complete with the arc of a beginning, middle, and end (translating here to "learn opponent, anticipate opponent, and kill opponent"). Giving "guess" situations this level of context is exactly what makes high level play meaningful.

At the end of the day, modern fighting games really are just fast-paced games of rock/paper/scissors. The role of super meters is to redefine what rock, paper, and scissors all mean within the context of the match, in addition to giving more meaning to the guessing game itself.

The Genius of the Barrel Roll

It's no surprise that Afterburner Climax features a barrel roll. Sega has lived its entire life in Nintendo's shadow, and even though Afterburner easily predates Starfox, everyone that looks at a plane-based rail shooter is going to suggest that the player hit Z or R twice.

Like any younger brother with a minority complex, Sega tries to do all the same things as Nintendo, but faster and cooler and more awesome. With Afterburner Climax's buttery smooth gameplay and killer graphics, Sega was halfway there-- but how would they possibly improve upon the one-liner that burned Arwings into our entire generation's subconscious?

Let me count the ways:

1. Vantage Point

The player camera rolls along with the player, spinning the entire world upside down for a moment. This is initially extremely disorienting for the player and really works to drive the point home that barrel rolls are a big deal. No one is going to just be chaining roll after roll together idly to stay invulnerable like in Starfox-- barrel rolls are a maneuver to be respected.

This also takes advantage of the extraordinary visuals in the game.

1. Control

Instead of a dedicated roll control, Afterburner Climax uses a strange way to trigger the barrel roll: while fully banked in one direction, roll in the other. This creates a much more analog feel to the flight control, giving new players something interesting to learn rather than another button to memorize.

The first time a player plays this game, he will accidentally trigger a barrel roll. Marrying the control of the aiming with the control of defensive maneuvers in such a way is genius, as the player will learn to carefully decide between offensively and defensively moving the plane.

2. Longevity

With new players, there is no need to teach them an additional control for defense. They'll accidentally trigger the control and then freak out in delight when the world around them spins in a circle. Totally awesome!

As they get better at the game, they will begin to notice that their ability to aim is restricted in some way because certain stick motions will induce an uncontrollable roll. They will begin to nto push the control stick to the outer extreme, introducing a layer of gentle finesse so rare in a blazing fast game like this.

Eventually, the most awesome players will start going after medals like killing X number of enemy aircraft while rolling, creating a new metagame of high risk, high reward gameplay reserved only for masters of the game.

Do a barrel roll! (Press Z or R twice!)

Slippy

If I Were In Charge of SSF4

Note: After discussing some of these points with Seth, he informed me of the pull and push process of getting changes into the game. You can't have everything!

Game System:

• Different animations and effects for chip death and for focus death (not enough remaining health to focus) for more immediate feedback of "why did I just die?" and less confusion.
• Alternate "Reversal" message given for wakeup focus attacks and reversal backdashes to encourage players to learning more advanced tactics such as backdash punishing OS's.
• Reversals don't need to break focus. I've tried to focus a couple too many reversal upballs and headbutts... it's a very strange rule seemingly to created to discourage charging focus as okizeme, which is a bad idea already for plenty of other reasons.

Frontend:

• Change the button configuration screen to something that doesn't take 10 years, and also to something that Japanese players can come to America and understand.
• Allow for choosing of character and color BEFORE a match is set up in Championship mode a la VF-- it's blind pick anyway, right? Cut down on the few times of accidental Abel / Ryu selection because of one too many mashed A inputs. Of course, Ultra selection is offered after the matchup is revealed.
• More context-sensitive playback of rival music, instead of ALWAYS playing P2 characters' music every time:
• In Versus, play after one player has a win streak of 5 at least
• In Championship Mode, play during championship match (each player hears his opponents' music)

Chun Li:

Medium kicks-- Currently, back+MK is the target combo starter, neutral MK is the AA, and toward+MK is the stepkick. Any change to this would really be great:

• If the TC kick and the stepkick were switched, Chun would be able to move forward while maintaining back charge.
• If the TC kick and the AA were switched, Chun would be able to AA long-range Rufus dives and immediately pressure with fireballs while he's resetting.

Stomp kicks-- Currently, only down+MK activates stomps, whereas d/b+ or d/f+MK does not. This is to allow Chun players to jump in from range with the very long-reaching j.mk while maintaining both down and backcharge. However, this is sort of a pain in the butt.

• If stomps were were activated with both down+ and d/f+MK, they'd be much more reliable for use in combos while j.mk would still be usable while maintaining charge with d/b.

Jus' sayin'.

How to Push My Buttons

Although everyone seems to dismiss it as an archaic way to interface with a game, the act of pushing a button can really be explored to create satisfying play.

A digital (read: not analog) button has 2 states: on and off. Most every game only considers the act of toggling the button from its off state to its on state (referred to as the Positive Edge of input), but some (usually Japanese) games put a strong emphasis on the lifting of the button as well (the Negative Edge).

In Bayonetta in particular, every attack in the game is separated into two halves: an attack on the way out, and on the way in. These halves are assigned to the Positive Edge and Negative Edge respectively-- if a player so chooses, he can leave his attack "out" longer to deal extra damage, at the risk of spending more time vulnerable to a hit from behind. Through this mechanic, a single press of a digital button has an analog level of risk and reward associated with it, adjustable given the player's style and situation in-game.

The result is that each button press becomes two decisions the player is faced with: When should I press this button, and when shall I release it? Pushing a button is the simplest way to interface with a game, but it can packed full of context and tough decisions!

This solution creates a level of customization in every action the player takes, while maintaining the instant, fluid response granted from a one-dimensional input interface. The simultaneous pursuit of creativity and responsiveness has always been core to the Japanese genre of "Stylish Action Game", and is one of my favorite play mechanics in all video games.

Love and Street Fighter

I hate the art of fighting, but I wanna be the king of fighters!

Dan Hibiki

Lots of people ask me why I play as Chun-Li.

I don't like getting too close to someone. I mean, I'm not bad in that situation; it's just so risky. But I hate being distanced also-- those who prefer that situation are frightening to me. I need to be in some vague middle ground to feel comfortable.

My timing and spacing are okay-- reactions are my weakest link. But to maintain my fragile middle range, I have to be able to step forward if they step back, and step back if they step forward. I have to be react faster than normal against aggression, and be able to seize my few opportunities as they come. But too often I'm simply holding onto my charge instead of pressing forward when the time is right.

The unfortunate fact is that I play with a constitution handicap. It doesn't take much before I'm down and out. Many matchups feel unfair. My attitude in reaction to this has become to simply throw myself at people, and either succeed quickly or fail quickly. I'm resigned to the fact that my tools don't necessarily match up to those of others.

This game, like many others, isn't balanced. Some have incredibly great and effective characteristics, while others just get screwed. At one point I felt like I was unstoppable, but those days are behind me now. There's always the promise of a better game-- so then why should I bother learning this one?

It's because of all this that I choose not to play in tournament. When anything real is on the line, I opt out. I'm afraid of what people might think of me when they see me in that situation, or maybe just ashamed of my own ability to talk the talk but not play real footsies. I'll definitely beat up on randoms in casuals out of boredom, but I'll never go for the prize, for fear of how I'll feel when I lose.

I don't hate the player. I don't hate the game. I hate the character. But I'm too proud to counter pick in real life.

Handsome fighters never lose battles.

Vega

Ace Combat 6

Jet fighters are basically designed to be awesome incarnate: fast, loud, destructive, and invincible to any other form of war machine.

In fact, the only problem with making games about jet planes is this: how does the game designer portray the godly power of these planes while still presenting a meaningful challenge to the player?

Ace Combat 6 dances that line admirably with its level design. While the player's jets are exaggerations of their real-life counterparts, the scenarios the game provides for them require the use of every bit of their physics-defying power.

Unlike Ace Combat 5, AC6 utilizes its fictional Emmerian Air Force in a somewhat believeable fashion-- as support for its ground forces. A large-scale attack in this game involves several concurrent operations, with groups of allies approaching their own objectives. The player is not tasked with winning the war by himself, but rather to assist the effort as a whole.

Unfortunately for the Emmerian military, these multi-operation missions are designed such that providing enough support for every operation to be successful is deliberately made to be impossible.

Though the player has the godly ability to easily destroy many targets from kilometers away, there will always be more allies praying for assistance than he can attend to. With great power comes even greater responsibility, indeed!

This level design philosophy forces the player to make decisions on who to support and who to leave on the wayside, i.e. to concede to his inability to win the war by himself. Creating this emotion inside the player is a triumph in level design-- while other flight action games communicate the worth of a multimillion dollar war machine through sheer destructive force, AC6 sends the same message by making the player understand that there are never enough of these machines to go around.

Why I Like Blazblue

Non-physical competitive gaming, when not luck-based, basically comes in two main flavors: Chess-type and Poker-type.

In a Chess-type game, the entirety of a game is laid out for all to see, which every element's possibilities known beforehand. Since there are so many possible actions to take, the onus is on the players to utilize the predetermined legal actions to overcome his opponent, while he mindfully watches his opponent attempting the same thing. Having the right pieces in the right positions at the right times is not an important objective in chess-- it is the only objective.

On the other hand, in a Poker-type game, the elements of the game world are hidden. Neither player has any way of knowing what cards the other has, nor any influence on how the game will unfold. The only thing these players have to go on is each other-- a pro poker player and a scrub will statistically get the same number of fantastic hands throughout their careers, but the pro player will be able to win more through means other than simply having better cards.

Fighting games can really go either way. On one hand, the legal characters, their attributes, and abilities are all predetermined and known fully by all involved, similar to the way everyone knows how chess pieces are allowed to move. This is of course at the theoretical highest level of play.

Unfortunately not everyone can reach this level of gaming prowess, and the game changes. Almost regardless of the game, the adage that allows absolute beginners to begin to improve is, "When in a position where one option is to block, then block." It it similar to poker-- in a high pressure environment with limited information on what the opponent will do, it is often a very good choice to simply do nothing. Statistically speaking, the game will reward the player for opting not to play.

Just as the cowardly poker player will simply fold out every time until he's dealt a killer hand, many fighting games reward players that do nothing until a braindead opportunity. In Dead or Alive, I'm not sure there is a single feasible move that will result with frame advantage on block. This results in the two DOA players simply guarding, hoping the other person opts to play the game (to attack) possibly out of boredom, statistically putting him at a disadvantage.

Blazblue is cool because it, through many game systems, favors the attacker in almost any situation. Although the relentless pressure capability of Guilty Gear's False Roman Cancel is gone, a player pressing buttons has an easier time winning than one that doesn't, which is a refreshing change.

I like pushing buttons.

What's Really Good?!

So, King of Fighters! Kyo is right when he says that if you speak English, you probably haven't played these games. Not an issue.

What's really interesting here is the rock-paper-scissors dynamic of the game. In King of Fighters, it seems to work mostly like this:

JAB beats JUMP devastates SWEEP beats JAB

What's really interesting here is that all of these things are attacks. King of Fighters is designed like a super action-heavy anime, with their opponents constantly attacking. There's not nearly as much holding back as other games.

Given the risk/reward setup, in King of Fighters, the "default option" is a jump attack.

Its kissing cousin, Street Fighter, looks something more like this:

BLOCK devastates ANTI-AIR beats JUMP can beat BLOCK

The massively unequal set of rewards here are what really makes Street Fighter a mindgame fest. The easiest way to get big damage in the game is to trick the opponent into thinking that you're going to jump... the layers of yomi (reading the opponent) are paramount to winning.

Default option in Street Fighter: Block

Virtua Fighter:

BLOCK mostly beats ATTACK beats THROW mostly beats BLOCK

Compared to the other games, the high-level counters of Virtua Fighter are very "soft," which means that a champion at this game must understand all the low-level, character- and situation-specific strategies. This generally translates into understanding the minutiae of frame data, as well as reading the opponent well-- these counters are nullified with systems like throw break, throw clash, and guard break.

Default option in VF: Block

Tekken:
BLOCK mostly beats ATTACK is faster than THROW often beats BLOCK

Tekken's layout is similar to VF's, the main exception being that attacks and throws are on equal footing. It is completely situation-specific, though in most situations attacks will win. Also, blocking is not a foolproof way to stop attacks, as there are plenty of safe pressure options that will continue an offense against a blocker.

Default option in Tekken: Attack

Soul Calibur:

ATTACKS have better range than THROWS can beat DEFENSE can beat ATTACKS

Soul Calibur's gameplay is hard to break down into such broad strokes. Ever since SC3, the series has been adding more and more exceptions to rules than much else. What's important for this discussion is that throws are easy to react to in this game, though unlike Tekken, the defending player must guess at which break to execute.

Default option in SC: Defense

Dead or Alive:

DEFENSIVE HOLD devastates ATTACK devastates THROW devastates DEFENSIVE HOLD

DOA is all about intensely hard counters. If one player knows exactly what the other player will do, he can be rewarded with up to 50% life per guess. The incredibly high stakes nature of the game is exciting and fun, but the standard deviation of win percentages (the only way to judge relative skill at the game) is very high.

Default option in DOA: Block (to avoid the high-stakes rock paper scissors)

Just for Fun

"Like, some people say they go to parties for fun. But all parties are different, and most parties aren't all that much fun."

Jonathan Blow

The creator of Braid came to our school to give a talk about game design the other day. Not surprisingly, he is far more concerned about the meaning of life than about how "fun" something is. But if doesn't play games for fun, then why does he devote his life to them?

The truth is that in games, this kind of thinking doesn't really come up. For as long as a game is on screen, the player has a temporary meaning of life-- he knows why he's there and what his purpose is. He knows how to gauge his level of ability, and he knows how to improve on it. Life is not necessarily easy, but it is easy to understand.

Speaking of fun, software development is not fun. Why do I want to make games so bad then? I'm not the best programmer, the best artist, or the most revolutionary designer, so what do I have to bring to the table?

Or maybe I'm just subconsciously trying to make my life more like the games I play. Where have a clear goal, clear obstacles with clear solutions, and an immediate reward for doing the right thing.

Oh, and infinite retires in case I get it wrong.

Pikachu, I Choose You!

"I have simple tastes. I am always satisfied with the best."

Oscar Wilde

Just as a character arc is the development of a character's choices over the course of a story, the depth of a game's play depends on the development of choices that the player makes.

The problem with giving players choice is that there is simply too much fun to be had by killing the player. Remember Choose Your Own Adventure? Those books were definitely written simply for the joy of writing loads of unhappy (and violent!) endings, because it sure as hell wasn't very much fun going back to the start and trying again.

If one choice is simply better than any other, then there is no decision to be made at all. However, the opposite is just as ineffective: If no choice yields a reward greater than any other, then there is still no real decision to be made.

Giving the player one right answer either forces him to play along in the developer-created charade or makes him feel like a fool for not knowing what the right answer is, while not allowing the player the chance to make any wrong choices gives him a pampered and boring experience. These are both effective at insulting a player's intelligence.

The overall objective in allowing the player meaningful choices is to give him multiple exclusive choices that can all be considered appropriate (that is, the game offers a satisfactory reward).

Enough academia. Let's talk about punching people.

The best part of beat-'em-up games is that there are always a couple super awesome bad-ass moves the player character can use to break fools.

The problem with beat-'em-up games is that there always a couple super awesome bad-ass moves that player will choose to do instead of the vast majority of the others.

A major byproduct of the move from 2d to 3d graphics is that animation is far more easily tasked to a larger group, and more effectively and efficiently QA'd. This is why the movelists of 3d fighting games absolutely dwarf the movelists of their 2d brethren. In theory, this should account for a quantum leap in the game play of this type of game by expanding the number of choices to the player.

At the end of the day, it does very little. It doesn't matter how many different punches and kicks a player is able to do; once he learns how, he will only ever use the most effective ones. In fact, a major hump in the learning curve of any modern fighting or beat-'em-up game is understanding which moves are just bad, and how to avoid accidentally doing them.

Running around a game environment performing the same overpowered move to everyone to achieve the mega-objective (i.e. kill everyone) is not nearly as fun as making split decision choices to in order to achieve some meta-objective (e.g. maim chosen enemies in specific ways). The latter also gets a bonus because the meta-objective is one that the player will create for himself.

So how are modern beat-'em-ups encouraging players to experience all the cool moves that the developers slaved away at implementing? Let's take a look!

Devil May Cry
DMC games have also included a Style Meter that instantly presents a meta-game; while the player's health and the enemies' deaths measure how well the player is doing, the Style Meter measures how awesome the player is doing. Simply killing everyone on screen (mega-objective) is not enough-- the player is enticed to try to get a "SSStylish!" ranking for a fight (meta-objective).

Not only does the Style meter offer big bonuses to changing weapons or taunting enemies mid-combo, it creates a diminishing-returns system: each time a certain move is performed, it offers less boost to the Style meter every time afterwards. After the third or fourth time, doing that same attack will begin to hurt the Style meter, actually punishing the player for relying on the same crutch move.

The Stylish rating achieved when an enemy is killed determines how much money the player gets from the kill-- and the money is used on buying more attacks, which will only allow the player to get higher ratings the next time around.

Ninja Gaiden
Dead enemies in NG games release their souls to the player in three flavors: Yellow (money) Blue (health) and Red (magic). While they are in itself a reward to the player, they present an important choice to the player: the player can choose to either let his character absorb the essences to reap the immediate benefits, or he can allow his weapon to absorb the essence in order to unleash an Ultimate Technique supercombo. Both choices are extremely rewarding.

Also, enemies in NG can survive losing one extremity (in some cases, head included). This, understandably, will change the abilities of that enemy character, which opens up huge tactical options. It also gives some individual character to the many different combos-- XXY with the Dragon Sword will cut off an enemy's left arm, while Forward+Y with the Falcon's Talons will usually clip a leg. Designing enemies so that the player wants to remove the arms from ranged attackers, the legs from nimble pursuers, and heads of zombies, offers a great reward to the player for exploring the huge move set.

God of War
God of War is famous for its finishing moves, and rightly so; every enemy in the game has a brutal character-specific for its demise at the player character's hands. This creates considerable variety in the player character's actions (as he'll perform different moves on different enemies) and also creates a very accessible "small-in-big-out" design that allows a wide audience to experience even the coolest moves the game has to offer.

The problem is that once the player has seen all there is to see, he grows bored of shoving burning blades down the throats of minotaurs from the same camera angle every time.


Though I suppose once you are tired of shoving burning blades down the throats of minotaurs, you are tired of life.

Tatsunoko vs Capcom: Making Fighting Games Fun Again

Hooray! A fighting game that doesn't come with a large number after it! To celebrate this momentous occasion, let's break down design choices made here that are deliberate, progressive moves that could not have been made to an existing Capcom IP. For obvious reasons, we'll be comparing this game directly to the Marvel vs Capcom series.

Controls
In general, Capcom fighters have a 6-button layout:

• Jab (light punch)
• Strong (medium punch)
• Fierce (strong punch)
• Short (light kick)
• Forward (medium kick)
• Roundhouse (strong kick)

This was fine in the arcade, but the home consoles had some issues with control. The Sega controllers and the Xbox Duke controller were able to handle the 6-button layout relatively well, but most people got accustomed to the light and medium punches on the 4 face buttons, and the power attacks on the triggers.

Tatsunoko vs Capcom changes this layout quite a bit:

• A (light attack)
• B (medium attack)
• C (strong attack)
• Partner

Not only does this make the game far less intimidating to newer players simply by reducing the quantity of buttons, it cleans up the button layout so that all the necessary buttons are available and easy to find on a traditional 4-face button game controller.

Ironic, then, that this game is a Wii-exclusive.

Combos
Every character in Tatsunoko vs Capcom can launch his opponent with the same control (d/f+C), much like the d/f+2 uppercut from Tekken. Combined with the easily accessible tech crouch low attacks (d+C or even d+B), this choice allows players to at least use the basic tools of the game with every character available, forcing mix-ups and chaining combos.

Essentially, the game is broken down to the point that any attack on hit will grant a free attack of a stronger group (this is a simplification):

• Jabs will guarantee a buffered Strong
• Strong will guarantee a Roundhouse
• Roundhouse, a Special
• Specials will cancel into Supers
• Supers can be used to start Delayed Hyper Combos

This means that, first of all, chaining combos in this game isn't really all that difficult. Pressing A, then B, then C is not hard. It also means that basic combos (A, B, C, qcf+C, qcf+A+B) can basically work for any character, netting them around 50% health. In other games, learning half-life combos takes a while, especially with different characters, but Tatsunoko vs Capcom encourages experimentation by lowering the barrier of entry.

Supers
Many changes made to the use of the Super meter are essentially lifted straight from the Guilty Gear series, games that were once lauded for introducing fresh, progressive ideas into a stifling, tradition-centric genre.

The Super bar was always used to use Super attacks, but now can be used to defend against them. Similar to Guilty Gear's Faultless Defense, Tatsunoko vs Capcom's Advance Guard will eat a bit of super to completely avoid chip damage.

The Super bar can also be used for Baroque Cancels, which completely negate recovery frames, similarly to Romantic Cancels from Guilty Gear. Not only will this extend combos, it will trick opponents into attack after blocking a move that should be unsafe due to its recovery. The ability to combo ABC into A again with bonus damage isn't just broken, it's Baroquen.

Lastly, characters can Hyper Crush, which is a Burst from Guilty Gear. Hyper Crush is a get out of jail free card that players can use to stop guaranteed even combos and knock the opponent away. Since this game uses it with the Super meter and not on its own timer, Hyper Crush can be more easily rationed during a match, and it's more of a tactical decision to use it.


Fighting games in general are really hurting right now, mainly due to their esoteric rule sets that no one wants to bother learning. However, without this level of depth, they wouldn't be worth really playing in the first place. It's time for a compromise!

Controls
Playability: Make it fit the damn controller
Depth: Allow for multiple tiers of specials and supers
Compromise: Set the same 3-level tiered system on a new 4-button layout

Combos
Playability: Make them easy and awesome looking
Depth: Create variety between characters so it's not essentially mirror matching
Compromise: Create easy dial-in combos (DOA's PP6PK, VF's PPPK, TvC's ABC Special Super) that are worth decent damage, but also include character and situation specific combos for even more damage

Super Moves
Playability: Again, easy and awesome
Depth: Force players to perform difficult setups to reap the best rewards
Compromise: Again, ABC-Special-Super. Also, the tiered Super Level system (level 1, 2, or 3, just like the attacks)

Tatsunoko vs Capcom is trying hard to find the right compromise, and it seems to be a step in the right direction. We'd see plenty of awesome gameplay modifications to this genre if it consisted of anything other than just sequels.

Gears of War 2: The Little Things

Played through Gears of War 2 this past Thanksgiving weekend. It was great. You all already know about epic scope, mind-blowing audio/video presentation, and "chainsodomy," but what really got to me were the little things-- small gameplay tweaks that manage to make the single most polished game on the Xbox 360 into a true masterpiece of combat design. Gears 2 iterates on the decisions made for Gears 1 in ingenious ways. In no particular order:

"Down But Not Out"
Design objectives of Gears of War 1:

• Establish emotional connection between player and squad mates
• Somehow explain that these characters stay alive throughout the story
• In cooperative play, alleviate frustration and guilt when one of the players dies

Gears of War 1 design decision: When teammates lose their vitality, they are put in a "down but not out" state where they can be revived by the player.

Problems with Gears 1 solution:

• The player became a babysitter for his idiot squadmates, constantly having to run through machine gun fire to pick up bullet sponge friends.
• The death of the player (the only Delta Squad member with magic healing powers) meant instant game over.
• Infinite revivals meant long battles became wars of attrition between the magic medic's squad and the non-healing Locust.

Gears of War 2 implementation:

• Incapacitated characters can now crawl, so hurt squadmates can now inch their way toward the player (and more importantly, out of the line of fire).
• AI characters can now revive other AI characters, further removing the responsibility for the player to babysit his squad.
• The player's death is no longer instant game over-- AI can revive him as well.
• Enemies can also revive one another, forcing the player to go for complete obliterations or else hound down wounded enemies.

The Sniper Rifle
Design objectives of Gears 1:

• Make weapons feel powerful.
• Reward the player for executing Active Reloads.

Gears 1 design decision: Locusts without helmets are killed with a single head shot. Active reloads double the damage of a sniper shot, making body shots lethal.

Problems with Gears 1 solution:

• Head shots are pretty hard to get, and it sucks to land one only to see that a helmet got broken.
• On the other hand, Active Reloads are pretty easy.
  
• Ergo effective sniping was not about aim (head shots) but rather about reloading properly. That's... kind of lame.
  

Gears 2 implementation:

• A head-shot will always kill normal sized Locust, rewarding aim above all else.
• Non head-shots can never kill an undamaged Locust. Active shots will cause stuns.

Tickers
Gears 1 design objective:

• Create a scary, swarm-type enemy for some frantic close quarters combat.

Gears 1 design decision: Lambent Wretches: small, fast enemies that deal explosive damage upon death.

Problems with Gears 1 solution:

• Easily the most dangerous enemies in the game. Once they were within range to attack, the player was in huge trouble, since even if he could kill them, they would kill the player in their death throes.
• Couldn't tell where they were until it was too late.
• Close quarters combat obviously was not ideal-- meaning that the player fought Locusts at range, and also Wretches at range. Boring.

Gears 2 implementation: Tickers.

• The distinctive ticking warns the player that they have to look for small explosive enemies.
• Suicide attacks mean that each Ticker can only attack once, unlike Lambent Wretches that can deal damage forever. Even if the player isn't doing well dealing with the Tickers, at least he doesn't get stuck in an impossible situation.
• Melee throws Tickers very far, meaning the player can use them as grenades against other enemies, which is fun!

Baby Bear Enemies
Gears 1 design objective:

• Create big, impressive enemies.

Gears 1 design decisions:

• The Beserker, a huge melee machine that hunts by smell and sound-- no shooting, no running! Impervious to bullets; only vulnerable to Hammer of Dawn.
• The Seeder, a big bug that looks cool but doesn't really do anything. Only vulnerable to Hammer of Dawn.
• The Corpser, a big spider defeated Zelda-style by repeating an easy pattern 3 times.

Problems with Gears 1 solution:

• This is a game about shooting. Having weapons that yield no effect makes the guns feel weak, the player feel weak, and the game feel more like a puzzle than a combat situation.
• The player needs to give up one of his weapons for the Hammer of Dawn which is only useful for this purpose. Lame.

Gears 2 implementation:
Medium-big enemies. Far larger than normal humanoids, but still shootable. Reavers, Bloodmounts, 4 new varieties of Boomers round out the Locust ranks. The player can take them down with any weapon he wants, as long as it's got enough ammunition in it. When they appear, the combat gameplay amps up in tension, instead of dumbing down into "puzzle mode." Think of the HL2:Ep2 Hunters. These enemies are just right.


Alternate Gameplay
Gears 1 design objective:

• Give the player something to do other than shoot Locust.

Gears 1 design decisions:

• Kryll come out at night and eat fools. The player needs to stay in the light, create light, and not die.
• The player drives an APC with a UV gun. He needs to switch between driving and shining the light to get from point A to point B.

Problems with Gears 1 solution:

• Sneaking around is boring as hell.
• It's not that people don't want to shoot stuff-- it's that they want to shoot stuff in a different way. This is a game about shooting; doing things that are not shooting is boring.

Gears 2 implementation:

• Drive a tank! Shoot the boss enemies of Gears 1 in the face!
• Drive a Reaver! Fly around and shoot fools!
• Drive a Brumak! Take control of a boss enemy from Gears 1!

So at the end of the day, Gears 2 refines every last bit of gameplay that Gears 1 had already polished so well. Good game.

No Fighting in the War Room

I play games for their combat systems. But it's not like because I like to fight-- it's because I'm chasing a certain feeling, a certain emotion: fear, exhilaration, accomplishment, or maybe the ones in between.

If combat design is an art form, I like to think that the primary colors of combat design are Murder, Destroy, and Kill.

Murder
Murder is the art of the player creating a situation in which his target is completely helpless, then striking without fear of retaliation.

• One on one fighting games: The player is free to execute a combo once his opponent is stunned or juggled.
• Jet dogfighting games: The player has no fear of being shot down when he is behind the enemy plane.
• Stealth action games: The player is easily killed when detected; he must strike only when the time is right.

Murder is probably the most advanced, most sophisticated form of videogame combat. It requires the player to learn (more accurately, it requires the gameplay to teach) the various ways to win, creating a game environment that allows for such complex rules, and artificial intelligence that operates properly -- that allows itself to be tricked believably. The characters need to understand that they can destroy the player except for in a specific situation, in which their personalities show that they're vulnerable. Once the player figures it all out and finally wins, the sense of accomplishment and relative ease of the coup de grace is enough for the player to want to do it all again.

Destroy
Destruction refers to the a player's concern not necessarily about how he will win a given fight, but how efficiently he can kill many of his enemies at once.

• Scrolling shooter games: The player can destroy an enemy without even thinking about it-- the challenge comes in the form of huge hordes of enemies with patterns.
• Action-role playing games: The player is generally confronted by a large number of weak enemies at a time.
• Realistic jet simulations: With an advanced arsenal, the player can effectively engage and destroy many enemies at once from far away. He is more concerned about fuel and armament economy than about the combat itself.

Destruction is generally considered to be an arcade style type of combat. The player is the most powerful entity in the world, and he feels a sense of strength and exhilaration. The simple pleasure of having an effect in an environment is amplified by the fact that this effect is by far the largest source of change on screen. While much of game design is learning how to create a stimulus to evoke a response from the player, the art of destruction is all about allowing the player to provoke the game world.

Kill
If Murder is outwitting a superior opponent and Destruction is out-muscling many inferior opponents, Killing is the middle ground: defeating an opponent of equal ability.

• Multiplayer combat: The opposing players are on equal (or at least balanced) footing in honor of fair competition.
• Difficult action-adventure games: The enemies have to be taken very seriously, and often don't have built-in ways to "trick" (murder) them.

While Murder rewards the player with a very easy killing blow and Destruction essentially makes the player a god in the game world, there's nothing easy about Killing. Straight Killing does not offer any easy elements of the combat, and generally the player needs to keep killing and killing until a certain goal is met. Without the payoff of Murder or the ease of Destruction, Killing demands the player's full attention constantly.

So what's the moral of the story here? What's the magic formula to creating a game with great combat? There's no way to prescribe a perfect combination of Murder, Destroy, or Kill, just the way one can't simply describe the RGB values of the Mona Lisa. The prognosis in either case is the same: it depends both on the taste of the artist and what is appropriate to the piece itself.

I guess there's no way to get combat exactly right. Too bad there are a million ways to get it wrong, huh?

This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my rifle is useless. Without my rifle I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy, who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will. Before God I swear this creed: my rifle and myself are defenders of my country, we are the masters of my enemy, we are the saviors of my life. So be it, until there is no enemy, but peace. Amen.

Marines (Full Metal Jacket)

Retreat? We're Advancing in Another Direction

Offense wins games; defense wins championships.

Conventional Wisdom

The objective of any game is simple: to win. This is made more interesting by the fact that there are other entities that are also trying to win. However, in adversarial game play, the parties involved can also spend their energy in attempting to not allow the others to win-- a concept known as defense.

Defense is often touted as an unsung hero of strategy because while most people are trying so hard to win, defense is about trying not to lose. But this argument is flawed-- the only way to ensure avoiding a loss is by winning.

Imagine a scenario of a contest between two opponents that focused solely on defense. It would be a complete stalemate, as neither would make an aggressive attempt to score. Neither would win-- neither would accomplish the objective of the game.

Now consider the opposite: what if both contestants were focused solely on offense? With no attention paid to defense, both players will score constantly. Who would win this match? The party with the better offense would score more often. With both parties focused on offense, someone is guaranteed to win (assuming the contestants are competent).

In the first example, the entirety of the defensive efforts of both parties are nullified because they are not fighting off an offense. Defensive effort is useful only up to and including the amount of the opposing force's offensive effort-- after that, it is wasted. However, in the second scenario, every ounce of offensive effort is useful toward attaining the ultimate goal.

I conclude, therefore, with regard to being feared and loved, that men love at their own free will, but fear at the will of the prince, and that a wise prince must rely on what is in his power and not on what is in the power of others, and he must only contrive to avoid incurring hatred, as has been explained.

Niccolo Machiavelli (The Prince)

At the end of the day, those who are fantastic at not losing are not guaranteed to win, while those who are great at winning will avoid losing by default.

Note: team sports players, where the number of offensive and defensive players (who are all playing to the extent of their ability) is set by the rules, have no reason to think about this. This is more focused on a one on one situation where each player would be forced to divide his attention.

Thinking About Art is Boring

Art is the culmination of the technical skill and creative vision of some artist with the purpose of creating emotion.

I can throw a bucket of paint onto a canvas, but that would not be art. Yet painting is considered an art form. Citing one example of a medium that does not qualify as art does not discount the entire medium.

If one example of a given medium is considered art, the entire medium must be considered art. Otherwise, who is to say where the line is drawn? Saying some movies are art begs the question of how you draw the line, and also who are you that you are qualified to do so? Citing a single example that does qualify as art validates the entire art form.

So then, the question is not "Are games art?" but rather, "Are games capable of being art?" How hard can this be, right? A single example can prove the entire medium!

Gamers will have all sorts of answers. "Look at the cutscenes of this Final Fantasy!" "Check out the graphics on Gears of War!" "You can't deny the storytelling of Metal Gear Solid!" "The music of Soul Calibur 2 is unmatched!"

This is the gist of most of the games-as-art argument, but it really just goes to show the infancy of the medium. Every new, young art form finds itself constrained to previous mediums. For example, early films were done with a single wide camera angle-- the same way people were accustomed to watching plays on stage. As stories became more complex, they began to use title cards with text on them, relying on the written word to move their stories along.

So when games rely on cutscenes (short films) or their visuals (done by painters and sculptors) or their sound to convey the emotion the artist is trying to invoke, the game is using other art forms as a crutch. Analyzing a game with incredible cutscenes does not prove games are art-- it just reiterates the fact that film and animation is art.

This also informs the stigma that games are perverse, violent, and evil. The two most recent big-name art forms, film and photography, both started as pornographic in nature. It's simply the easiest way to gain attention. Even subsets of old art forms carry that burden: consider that a century ago, ragtime music was the music of the devil. Just the same way MMOs, the newest genre of games, are demonized by gamers and non-gamers alike.

At the end of the day, I know games are a new art form. Plain and simple: the emotions I feel while playing games have never been triggered by watching a film, listening to music, looking at paintings or drawings, or any other art form. There's no need to consider the arts and sciences behind their creation, their content, their audience, or their role in society. I mean, they're just games.

Fightin' Words

Games come in two flavors: adversarial and non-adversarial. The former is for players that play to win-- which leaves me to assume the latter is for players that play to lose. This is why players of that type are widely known as "losers" (though the terms "carebear," "fast techer," or "Vagina" are also popular).

The actual interactions between two adversaries in a game vary:

• Boxing, Wrestling
  
• Absolute competition-- the opponent is the game's presented obstacle.
  

• Football, Basketball, Soccer
  
• Direct competition-- a player's performance can be impeded by another player's.
  
  
• Tennis, Volleyball, Billiards
  
• Indirect competition-- one player cannot directly affect his opponent's performance.

• Track and Field, Swimming, Bowling
• Artificial competition-- the game is playable without an opponent.

So what about video games? In Soul Calibur, the two players press buttons until some condition is met and one player is declared the winner. Their act of playing (pressing buttons) are completely separated, so it must be artificial competition.

One step further. In Soul Calibur, players control avatars that execute attacks in order to kill each other. Play from one player can be directly defended against (blocked, dodged, interrupted) by play from the opponent, so this must be direct competition.

Little bit deeper. In Soul Calibur, Taki blocks Amy's 66A, leaving Amy with 5 frames of advantage. Since Taki's fastest attack (A) would impact in 10+5 frames and Amy's fastest attack (6B) impacts in 11, it is now Amy's turn to attack. Amy attacks with 3BA, which Taki blocks, leaving Taki with 11 frames of advantage. It is then Taki's initiative. Since these players are taking turns playing, this must be indirect competition.

The main difference between video games and sports is the physical barrier of entry-- there are very few people in the world that can serve a tennis ball at 140 miles per hour, but anyone with fingers will be able to press the buttons to score Taki's A+K, B+G air throw. But since the difference between the elite and the newbies is so relatively small, it is curious that the game play of video games changes so drastically based solely on the level of competition.

And this is not even considering the advent of artificial intelligence...