Emulation Insights

The Bad Ending

It's pretty common for games to have multiple endings.  Generally, certain endings in said games will have better or worse outcomes for the characters.  In that sense, players tend to view some endings as "good" while less satisfying endings are typically seen as "bad".  It goes without saying that there are a lot of perfectionists who play video games.  So, more often than not, the good ending in any particular game is what most people want.  Unfortunaly, a lot of game designers like to hide these good endings behind some very esoteric requirements.  Let me illustrate with a couple of examples.

The original Silent Hill had it's best ending dependent on the player exploring a tucked away side area and finding a particular item (the "Aglaophotys").  This is actually an atypical way game designers gate off their best endings; acquiring a weird item that needs to be used in an unclear way.  On the plus side, this juncture doesn't come up until near the halfway point.  A few games (such as the SRPG Hoshiguma) have the ending dependent on a decision the player makes very early in the game.

Blasphemous is another example of the good ending being nearly impossible to achieve without a guide.  In fact the true ending is post-launch DLC which was added once the devs figured out what they wanted to do for the sequel.  Normally, I'd say this is poor design, but as someone pointed out online, it's not at all strange that a game about the Catholic path to righteousness is so inscrutable and easy to irrevocably screw up that nobody could ever be expected to successfully do it without the hand of god guiding them.

Fatal Frame 2 is especially meanspirited when it comes to endings because it's impossible to get anything other than the worse ending on the first playthrough.  Hence, the game requires subsequent completions in order to see anything other than a really downer conclusion.  Of course, the counterpoint to all this is sometimes the supposed good ending not actually much better.  The default ending to Vandal Hearts is (outside of a congratulatory message in the credits) the same as the "Vandalier" ending.  Plus, you don't have to grind through a bunch of side missions to get it.  Similarly the very-difficult-to-get 108 stars true ending to the original Suikoden isn't much different than if you just played the game normally.

On a final note, there are games like Bloodborne that has three different endings (none of which are particularly satisfying).  Sometimes you just got to choose what you want and stick with it (warts and all).  I defiantly feel like this applies to games that will have whole lot of subtle variants on a single ending based on what players chose to do throughout the game (see The Quarry for a recent example).  Sure...it might be fun to do another run using an entirely different approach just to see how things play out and note changes, but then again it can be good to accept what happened, leave it behind and simply move on to other games...either that or just watch the alternate endings on Youtube and call it good. 

A Novel Experience

ELIZA is the name of a natural language processing computer program designed in the 1960s.  It was pretty limited in what it could do, and by modern standards it would be considered little more than a "chatbot".  Even so, the program drew out a surprisingly strong emotional response in some people at the time such that they would confide personal thoughts and feelings to it.  That feature of the program is what partially inspired the indie visual novel Eliza.  

Despite sharing the same name, the fictional "Eliza" program in the game is a far more advanced AI-driven piece of software.  Set in Seattle, Eliza is being commercialized as a more affordable alternative to a professional therapist.  I'm sure some people will already be picking up on the dystopian themes here.  It's certainly true that the visual novel parallels Ursula K. LeGuin's "Lathe of Heaven" or even a William Gibson novel (particularly something out of his Blue Ant trilogy) in places.  The protagonist of Eliza is a thirty-something half Japanese, half British woman named Evelyn.  She was (before the start of the game) one of several coders who developed the Eliza program, but dropped out about three years ago due to the untimely death of a colleague.  For reasons not elaborated on until the end of the game, Evelyn has decided to return from her self-imposed exile and start working for an Eliza clinic as a "proxy".  What is a proxy?  Well, they're basically pseudo-therapists in that they simply parrot whatever Eliza prompts them to say in order to create the calming illusion of human interaction.  It's actually the game's fundamental premise (and is an interesting one), but also makes the early parts of the game painfully linear.  

From here, Eliza dives into its cast of characters.  Some are Evelyn's former co-workers while others are her patients.  Generally speaking, this is where the game really shines.  The characters are well written and have very relatable problems, fears and desires.  It's hard not to empathize with most of them on some level.  I was also very glad to see how the game portrays people with mental health problems.  Based on my own (somewhat limited) experience in the field, the origin of things like depression and anxiety can come from either social troubles or biological ones.  The thing is these two are like each side of the same coin.  Which one of them starts the problem isn't all that important because this cruel duo will work hand in hand to drive a person down into a cycle of misery with unsettling synergy.  Some people are able to climb back to some form of normalcy, but others find themselves trapped and unable to find a way out of their horrible circumstances.  Of course, this is where a good therapist can help...sadly, the Eliza program really isn't up to the task.  That's not to say it's useless...its just that over the course of the game its limitations really start to show.

Speaking of limitations, I often find that my enjoyment of visual novels depends heavily on whether or not my decisions matter.  In the case of Eliza, there aren't a whole lot to make until the very end.  The game really emphasizes the "novel" part of visual novel, though to be fair the visuals are quite good too.  Characters are extremely well drawn, and there's a consistency to it all that these kind of games sometimes lack.  Sound effects are almost non-existent, but the music does a decent job of setting the mood.  I picked up Eliza as part of the "Steam Visual Novel Fest" and as such am quite happy with it considering the amount I paid for it.  At it's suggested retail price though, I would have been underwhelmed.  Regardless, it's a thought-provoking game and definitely one that offers a wide range of perspectives on AI and mental health.  So, if that's the sort of thing you're interested in, by all means give Eliza a try.

Indiana Jones and the...

I'm not much of an Indiana Jones fan, but I have to admit the franchise has an extensive portfolio; five major motion pictures, a TV mini-series, a couple of comic book runs, novels and a bunch of video games.  Since this blog is mostly about that last category that's what I'll be focusing on...and more specifically one game in particular.  Before that though, lets look at the franchise conceptually for a bit.

When it comes to video game adaptations of everyone's favorite archeological adventurer, there have been a few.  I'm of course referring to Lara Croft...no, wait...I mean Nathan Drake...just kidding!  Jokes aside, what makes Indiana Jones special is the time period in which he thrived.  Unlike more contemporary characters like Croft or Drake, Dr. Jones is a man of the interwar years.  Honestly, I feel like the setting makes the character since he is archetypal and very much a product of that era.  The original trilogy did an excellent job of cementing the format and serial nature of his adventures.  A quick rundown might look something like this:

• The bad guys are Nazis, cultists or criminals of some kind
• Indiana Jones has allies and acquittances who help him (including a love interest)
• There are a bunch of action scenes including fist-fights, shootouts and chases
• He gets captured at least once
• There's a McGuffin artifact that has some sort of real world tie-in with supernatural qualities

What makes each individual story special is the creative ideas woven into it all.  Overall, the tone is pretty light though it can have some dark or grewsome bits to juxtapose with the comical stuff.  Sometimes it's slapstick and sometimes it's almost a mini-history lesson.  Indiana Jones himself is generally an honorable man, but can fight dirty when the preverbal chips are down.  This back-and-forth is part of what gives the IP its roller-coaster vibe.  So, now with all that out of the way lets focus in on that one game I mentioned back at the beginning.

I've embedded images of box art from several original stories found within the franchise.  The thing is, the overwhelming majority of Indiana Jones video games are action-driven experiences which (paradoxical as it might sound) aren't the best fit for the source material.  Oddly enough, the one original title that fits the Indiana Jones formula is a point-and-click adventure game - The Fate of Atlantis.  It's actually a direct sequel to the movie tie-in game The Last Crusade, and about three times as long.  It was Lucas Arts first "talkie", the studio's first video game to feature a fully voiced cast (for the CD-ROM version).  Developed using the SCUMM interface, Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis has beautiful pixel art similar to Maniac Mansion, Monkey Island and The Dig.  What really makes the game standout though is the three different paths players can take; "team", "wits" or "fists".  Each path features events that may or may not happen in a different path, which (in turn) provides a degree of replayability typically lacking in these kinds of games.  Regardless of the player's chosen path, the story adheres closely to the formula.  It features a love interest (Sophia Upgood), bad guys (Nazis again), various action sequences, and our titular hero getting captured at least once.  The McGuffin is (as implied by the title) a location - the lost city of Atlantis.  Rumored to have been a treasure trove of extraordinarily advanced technology, the Nazis obviously want to obtain its secrets for their own nefarious ends.  In particular, Orichalcum beads thought to have come from Atlantis seem to hold vast amounts of non-radioactive energy.  While not explored in detail, the backstory for Atlantean technology is the byproduct of a visit by ancient aliens.  The various devices powered by these beads are bronze-age knock-offs of the alien's tech, making the people of Atlantis a long-vanished cargo cult of sorts.  Funny how a lot of these ideas got recycled in Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (along with a few more from an unmade video game-turned-comic-book, Indiana Jones and the Iron Phoenix).

On top of checking all the boxes typical associated with an Indiana Jones adventure, Fate of Atlantis also has a couple of callbacks.  The golden idol from the beginning of Raiders of the Lost Ark can be seen in Indy's office at one point.  Looking at a statue of a falcon in the college museum will prompt Indy to say "it's the stuff dreams are made of," which is a reference to the 1941 film The Maltese Falcon.  Similarly, looking at some scribbles on the the stone walls of Atlantis will lead Indy to comment "Atlantean Graffiti."  Younger me thought this was an attempt at verisimilitude specific to real archeological discoveries made at the ancient ruins of Pompeii, but it's far more likely a world play joke referencing the George Lucas' film "American Graffiti".  Another similar example is a street in the Monte Carlo section of the game named "Rue des Guerres des Étoiles", a rough French to English translation being "Star Wars Road".  One last language related joke comes from some of the controls for a German U-boat.  Three, in particular, are labeled "Ausgeschnitzel", "Flugeldufel" and "Krauskefarben".  These words have no meaning which I suppose is a good way to keep it from being too easy for people fluent in German (or those who happen to have a German-to-English dictionary on hand).

Of course, it's not a perfect game.  The keystone puzzles are somewhat tedious and were part of the copy protection for the original disk-based version.  The music is also a bit bland though the Indiana Jones theme does come through at the appropriate moments.  Obviously, Harrison Ford would have been prohibitively expensive so they had to hire someone with a different, albeit, appropriate sounding delivery.  Some of the other characters drift a little bit more toward Saturday morning cartoons in terms of delivery, but overall the cast ranges from good to competent.  

I sometimes wonder what it would have been like had we gotten a live-action version of Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis.  Considering the lackluster reception Kingdom of the Crystal Skull and Dial of Destiny got, I doubt it could have faired worse.  Sadly, we'll never know, but at least we have the video game to enjoy.  

Remake Request

There is a novelization of the game though it differs
somewhat in terms of scope and plot

These days I find myself a bit weary of all the remasters, remakes, and reimaginings that dominate big budget media.  Even so, if someone were to ask me what video game I'd like to see get this special kind of treatment there is one title I can think of.  It's an old PS2 title called ICO.

I used to think the correct pronunciation was "eye-ko" or "ai-ko", but based on the original Japanese spelling it appears to be "ee-ko".  Anyway, it's the first in a spiritual trilogy of sorts.  The second entry is Shadow of the Colossus, a game that has been remade three times (on PS3, PS4 and PS5), while the final entry is a PS4 exclusive called The Last Guardian.  ICO, on the other hand, came out not long after the PS2 launched.  It also has some truly abysmal box art for the North American version.  As for the game itself, ICO is a 3D puzzle platformer with some light combat sprinkled in.  What makes it stand out from games made in the same vein is the attention paid to movement and animation.

The game director for the entire trilogy, Fumito Ueda, has (in his own words) had a life-long fascination with kinesthetics.  As such, the protagonist (a boy with a pair of horns sprouting out of his head) moves in an unusually realistic manner.  He will throw up his hands to stop himself from slamming in to walls.  He'll slide and stumble if he suddenly tries to change his direction of movement.  Even pushing, pulling, lifting and falling has a weightiness that the boy clumsily exudes in a believably adolescent way.  Of course, all this has been done in other titles such as Prince of Persia, but what really makes it special in ICO is the addition of a second major character.

As the fairytale-like story goes, all horned boys born in the region are taken as prisoners under escort to a massive mist-shrouded castle on an ocean coastline.  Here they are transported by a small boat to a sea cave entrance and brought up through tunnels to a sacrificial vault.  Fifty-four stone sarcophagus-like containers line the sides of the chamber.  The boy is placed in one, but not long after being sealed away an earthquake sets him free.  His captors have already made a hasty exit so he's presumably all by himself in the castle.  However, after doing some exploring he happens upon a taller (and probably older) girl locked up in a metal cage.  After freeing her, he finds that she seems to be only half-aware of what's happening...like she is being held partially in a magical trance or daze (more on that later).

The Queen claims that Yorda is her daughter, but it is
unclear if this literal or metaphorical

If led by the hand she will follow, but she can also be drawn to the boy by beckoning and the call of his voice.  The difference in movement is interesting to contrast.  The boy often skitters about almost haphazardly, while the girl moves in a much slower and more deliberate manner.  When the two hold hands there's almost a tug-o-war between the characters that must have been a real challenge for the animators to get right.  Naturally, these two want to escape their imprisonment together - each having abilities the other lacks.  However, as it turns out, they aren't alone in the castle.  Worse still, these other inhabitants aren't friendly either.

At first these foes only appear small in size and few in number.  They are shadows of dark vapor given form, each with a pair of pale glowing eyes.  The horned boy only has a stick, or (or later on) a somewhat more formidable sword with which to fend them off.  Blows from weapons don't seem to hurt them so much as dissipate their physical presence until they vanish, eyes and all.  Their appearance is always heralded by the opening of one or more dark portals in the floor which they seek to drag the girl through.  The boy, to them, is only ever a mild annoyance, avoided or swatted aside (by the larger shadow monsters that come later).  As their numbers increase so does their size, and some begin to have bat-like wings, tails or even horns of their own.  Later in the game it is reveled that these creatures are the spirits of previously sacrificed horned boys.  They have been enthralled by the ruler of the castle, a sorceress-queen.  She too lacks a physical form.  Nonetheless, there's some interesting implications regarding her appearance.

The ending of ICO is fairly ambigious to the point that
Fumito Ueda doesn't consider his interpretation
strictly canon 

For simplicity's sake, I'm going to mention that our boy/girl duo are named "Ico" and "Yorda" respectively.  Neither can speak the other's language, though the queen seems to be fluent in both.  Yorda is very pale from head to toe and so is the face of the queen.  However, atop her head and below the neckline she has a shadowy form similar to the monsters that serve her.  It also seems that her power is tied to stone.  The castle has some rather impossible looking architecture which (understandably) collapses once the queen suffers an untimely demise.  During her climatic boss battle she emits waves of energy that can turn the boy to stone.  Incidentally, this magical petrification happens if Yorda is ever dragged through one of the dark portals by a shadow creature.  The implication here seems to be that Yorda is providing a degree of magical protection to Ico.  Between the two, I'd say Yorda is the more powerful which is why the queen is focused on keeping her in an inhibited state.  Conversely, Ico is an amusement to the sorceress or at worst a mild nuisance.  This underestimation is of course the big mistake that proves to be her downfall.

So, after spending all that time reminiscing on ICO we finally come to the question of a remake.  The game was given a slight upgrade on the PS3 with higher resolution, a steadier framerate and some improvements to the AI.  A few puzzles were also modified.  Obviously, all that is well and good, but what benefit would a full-on remake bring?  Simply put, the environments could receive a massive visual upgrade both in terms of textures and set dressing.  The castle could also be shown more fully and explored seamlessly, rather than having to be somewhat divided into self-secluded mini-areas.  One thing I hope any would-be designer leaves well alone is the stone sofas.  They act as save points, but can only be used if both Ico and Yorda sit side-by-side on one of them.  The music accompanying the save menu is also quite nice and, in a way that is hard for me to describe, embodies the overall vibe of the game.  Hilariously, loading in a saved game from the main menu shows that these two have been taking a nap (presumably in the player's absence).  Personally, I have a hard time imagining a couch made of stone being comfortable enough for sleeping, but I suppose if you are tired enough just about anything will suffice.