Top 10 Worst Video Game Consoles

Worst Gaming Consoles

Home videogame consoles have been around for well over 30 years now, and in an industry that moves this fast, that means a lot of wreckage left smoldering by the side of the road. A lot. Those of us who follow the console-gaming industry tend to view the last three decades as a race between companies like Atari, Nintendo, Sega, Sony and Microsoft, but in fact they've just been the last ones left standing - for every one of their successes, there's about five or six other consoles and companies that were almost immediately abandoned and forgotten.

Some of those were just unlucky, but most of them flat-out suck. Whether they were cynical attempts to cash in on a perceived trend, misguided turd-missiles designed by companies that knew nothing about games or just plain bad, they were all quickly rejected by gamers and failed in short order. Over the next few pages, we'll take a look at the most thorough failures - the ones whose crappy hardware, games and management doomed them from the start - while counting down to what is genuinely the most awful and unappealing game console of all time. Brace for horror.

Year: 1995

Culprit: Nintendo

US launch price: $179.99

What it would cost today (based on inflation): $249.29

Sucks because: The Virtual Boy may be the easy target that everyone picks on, but it's forexcellent reasons: Its promise of "virtual reality" amounted to little more than 3D-ified Game Boy graphics, which were presented in eye-straining black-and-red. Its failure at market meant that only a handful of titles were even made for it. Prolonged use usually meant everything would look reddish for several minutes after you put it aside, and there was really only one comfortable way to play it: lying on your back, with the bipod resting on your chest and the goggles squishing your nose.

Factor in the relatively high price tag, competition from the then-new PlayStation and Saturn (along with anticipation for Nintendo's own N64) and the fact that most of its titles were really just 2D games with 3D visual effects, and it's no wonder the thing flopped. It's also frequently blamed for indirectly causing the death of one of the game industry's greatest inventors, Gunpei Yokoi, who died in a car accident a few years after his red-and-black monster's failure at market compelled him to leave Nintendo.

Above: AAAAAIIGH IT BURNS

Yes, the Virtual Boy had a few great games. But so do all terrible consoles, as you'll see in a moment.

Best game: Virtual Boy Wario Land

Year: 1994

Culprit: Sega

US launch price: $159.99

What it would cost today: $227.87

Sucks because: In theory, the 32X was a hardware upgrade that would propel the underpowered Genesis past its competition and give its owners a relatively cheap way to enter the 32-bit era. In practice, however, it was a stopgap system that would be thrown under the bus when the Sega Saturn came out six months later, and everyone seemed to know it except for die-hard Sega fans and the company itself.

An attachment to the Genesis that plugged into the console's cartridge slot, the 32X offered significant improvements over the aging Genesis, updating the console's crummy graphics and sound and delivering a few awesome games in the process. Unfortunately, not a lot of games actually took advantage of that, and the bulk of 32X games ended up looking like Genesis or Sega CD games with slightly nicer color palettes. On top of that, the 32X didn't work on all Genesis models, and even had incompatibility problems with certain TVs.

Above: In case you were wondering, this is where some of Sonic's asinine menagerie of sidekicks got their start. BOOOOOOOOO!

Ultimately, the 32X was the product of boneheaded short-sightedness: its existence put Sega into competition with itself once the Saturn rolled out, and developers - not wanting to waste time on a technological dead-end - abandoned the 32X in droves. Gamers quickly followed suit, turning what was once a promising idea into an embarrassing footnote in console history, as well as an object lesson in why console makers shouldn't split their user base with pricey add-ons.

Best game: Knuckles Chaotix

 

Year: 1993

Culprit: Panasonic

US launch price: $699.99

What it would cost today: $1,022.52

Sucks because: Like the Philips CD-I before it, the 3DO was a prohibitively priced, CD-based "interactive multimedia" player that couldn't really decide if it was a game machine or an exciting new way to watch awful interactive movies. Unlike the CD-I, however, it actually had a few decent games behind it, including excellent versions of Super Street Fighter II Turbo and Samurai Shodown, as well as legendary PC game Star Control II.

Above: Seriously, this game rocks. You should totally go play it right now

Decent titles or not, though, the 3DO was a sluggish, overpriced lump of hubris with a software library overflowing with games that were either built around full-motion video, or that weren't much more impressive than what was already available on cheaper, less powerful consoles.

Nevertheless, the 3DO mysteriously clung to life as a "high-end media system" until the mid-'90s, when the advent of more powerful 32-bit systems finally convinced its makers to lower its ridiculous price a little. But it was too little, and too late, and the 3DO quickly joined the growing trash heap of multimedia abortions steamrolled by Sony, Sega and Nintendo.

Best game: Star Control II, 

Year: 1993

Culprit: Atari

US launch price: $249.99

What it would cost today: $365.18

Sucks because: Look, if you're going to roll out with a console you insist is 64-bit when your competition is rocking a measly 16, then you'd damn well better deliver an experience that blows everything else out of the water. And although the Jaguar was certainly capable of more visual oomph than the Genesis or Super Nintendo, the majority of its games looked and performed like clunkier versions of Genesis titles.

For every game that actually took advantage of what the system could do, like Tempest 2000 or Cybermorph, there were ten stiff, bland, cheap-looking Kasumi Ninjas or Flip Out!s. Even Alien vs. Predator - widely regarded as the system's best game and possessing an impressive amount of depth by the standards of its time - was ugly and slow when compared to older games like Doom.

 

Above: Yes, this is pretty much how it felt to join Atari's "64-bit" "revolution"

And then there was the controller, a thick lump of ergonomic horror with what amounted to a 12-button telephone keypad at its center. Sometimes that keypad could be useful, as certain games came with plastic overlays for it that made things like switching weapons easy, but most of the time it was an unnecessary hindrance that made the controller unwieldy and confusing.

Overall, it was obvious to anyone who actually played the thing that it wasn't 64-bit; hell, it was barely even half that powerful, as the 32-bit Saturn and PlayStation demonstrated when they stomped onto the scene and curb-jawed the struggling Jaguar two years later.

Best game: Alien vs. Predator

Year: 2003

Culprit: Nokia

US launch price: $299

What it would cost today: $343.01

Sucks because: Say what you will about the infamous Gizmondo, the other handheld that gamers love to hate, it wasn't quite as bad as it's made out to be. The hardware was OK-ish and the potential for decent gaming was there, but it was marketed and sold by criminal idiots who knew even less about the gaming market than they did about driving million-dollar cars at high speeds. The N-Gage, meanwhile, was a disastrous hunk of ass from the get-go.

In fairness, the N-Gage was ahead of its time, offering fully 3D games on a handheld a year before the release of the DS, and two years before the PSP. Unfortunately, the hardware wasn'tahead of its time, and every last one of those games was marred by choppy animation, low resolution and - oh yeah - a skinny, vertical cell-phone screen. And awkward face buttons that were actually part of a cell-phone number pad. Because the N-Gage was a cell phone, and marketing it as anything else was Nokia's biggest mistake.

  

Above: Wait, wait... why do we hate this thing again?

The idea of the N-Gage toppling the then-unstoppable Game Boy Advance was even more laughable in 2003 than it is now, but Nokia seemed confident that just securing a Tomb Raider game for the system would be enough to make it sell. In fact, Nokia doesn't appear to have researched its would-be customers at all, as evidenced by an early ad campaign that was roundly ridiculed for its lame stabs at "Xtreeeeem!!!!"-ness.

 

Above: Oh, right, that's why. Thank you, former GamesRadar editor Christian Nutt, for showing us the light. And also for starting a meme

Also, when asked why players had to remove the N-Gage's battery just to pop in a different game card, one Nokia exec replied that mobile phone users in Europe had been used to doing that to swap out SIM cards for years. And that was the key to the whole fiasco: Nokia knew how to sell mobile phones. It didn't know shit about game consoles, games or gamers, and their crapulescent side-talking handheld failed spectacularly as a result. A revamped version, the N-Gage QD, was released in 2004, and although it fixed most of the system's problems, it completely overlooked the one about it and all of its games being awful.

It's worth mentioning that the N-Gage hasn't quite gone away - it's being prepped for another relaunch soon. Except now, instead of a crappy game phone, it's a service that's essentially Xbox Live for other, better phones. Even if the third time's the charm, though, it won't be easy to shake the stigma of the first two. 

Best game: Pocket Kingdom

Year: 1991

Culprit: Philips

US launch price: $699.99 - $1,400 (sources differ on the exact price, but it's not like we could have afforded it either way)

What it would cost today: $1,084.83- $2,169.69

Sucks because: One of the earliest consoles to incorporate a CD-ROM drive, the Philips CD-I was born battling an identity crisis. It wasn't sure if it wanted to be a game console or a revolutionary "interactive multimedia" device, and in the end it came up short on both fronts and pleased absolutely nobody.

Right out of the gate, the CD-I made an immediate impression on gamers: that it was slow, clunky and - unless you were a huge fan of photorealistic golf or children's edutainment - didn't have any half-decent games. Even if you could somehow bring yourself to accept the machine's absurd price, the clunky controls and predilection toward dull interactive movies and multimedia encyclopedias over actual games made it sickeningly unappealing to serious gamers; it was as though Philips had made the machine to appeal to our boring dads, instead of us. They seemed to be the only ones getting excited over this bullshit, after all.

 

Above: This isn't just a bad picture - it's how FMV looked on the CD-I

Really, though, it was more a symptom of a big company entering a market it didn't really understand, thinking the strength and novelty of its hardware was all that really mattered. It wasn't the first, and it wouldn't be the last - or even the last to make the CD-I. In all, at least 10 other companies (including Sony) licensed and manufactured their own CD-I models.

The CD-I was also the vanguard of that awkward early multimedia phase that persisted for a few years after CD-ROM drives became common, when full-motion video and other "multimedia presentations" dominated the medium. But the thing the console is hated for, more than anything else, is what it did with the Nintendo properties it gained access to through an abortive agreement between Philips and Nintendo:

Special thanks to Brian Lajoie of Quebec Gamers for the video.

Best game: Burn: Cycle, the only good game ever to be built entirely around full-motion video and crappy CG backdrops.

Year: 2000

Culprit: VM Labs

US launch price: $400

What it would cost today: $490.31

Sucks because: The Nuon first entered the public consciousness in late 1997, when rumors began to circulate about a secret console known only as "Project X." Little was known about it at the time, except that it would be more powerful than the PlayStation and N64, it was being designed by two of the brains behind the Atari Jaguar and it was supposed to be out in 1998. Over the years that followed, the console was kept under tight wraps and repeatedly delayed, but occasional, impressive tech demonstrations kept the system from being completely disregarded as vaporware.

 

Above: We have to admit, this doesn't look like a game we'd expect to play on a DVD player. Or on anything else, for that matter

Finally, Project X was revealed in 1998 to be not a console, but a chip intended for DVD players that would enhance video playback and enable the machines to play games. Not like the crappy, choppy DVD-player games that available today, but actual 3D action titles that looked to be on par with, if not better than, the PSone's offerings. Renamed Nuon (which some say stood for "Nobody Understands Our New technology"), the system was pushed back yet again, finally making its debut in 2000 in a $400 DVD player from Samsung.

Unfortunately for the Nuon, all those delays put it into direct competition with the DVD-playing PlayStation 2. The Nuon's shoddy library and nonexistent brand recognition meant a swift kick in the balls from Sony, and the Nuon died, doubled over and choking on its own failure.

Best game: Tempest 3000

Year: 1995

Culprit: Tiger Electronics

US launch price: $30

What it would cost today: $41.55

Sucks because: The Tiger R-Zone wasn't just one of the worst consoles of all time - it was three of them. The R-Zone Head Gear is the one that people tend to remember, with its sad mockery of the Virtual Boy's red-and-black virtual-reality gimmick, but there was also a non-VR handheld - the R-Zone Extreme Pocket Gear - and a big-screen, "color" version, the R-Zone Super Screen. All of them worked the same way, however: by shining a light through a transparent LCD cartridge and projecting the action in eye-searing red (or black) on a plastic "screen."

Think the Virtual Boy was bad? Next to the Tiger R-Zone and its stiff red LCD "graphics," it was a high-definition gift from God. The R-Zone was essentially just a gimmicky version of the same awful, clicky-beepy LCD games that Tiger had been dumping on the market since the '80s, only projected onto a single eyepiece for kids whose parents were too poor to afford a whole set of goggles.

 

Above: NEW AMAZING GRAPHICS OH BOY

Although many people don't even consider the R-Zone a real console, the fact remains that it was a system for which game software was produced. It doesn't matter if said games were awful, or all essentially the same, or if the system was really more of a cheap, fraudulent toy than anything else - it qualifies. There are some who would say that Tiger's other infamous flop - the handheld Game.com - is more deserving of punishment, and while we agree it was horrible, it at least featured actual games with more than five frames of animation apiece.

Best game: NiGHTS, although that's sort of like saying that skin cancer is the best kind of cancer you can get.

Year: 1977

Culprit: RCA

US launch price: $149.95

What it would cost today: $522.30

Sucks because: These days, people remember mainly two things about videogames from the 1970s: Atari and Pong. In fact, the '70s were littered with weird, forgotten consoles, because everyone and their mother was rushing to get in on the new video fad. Few of those efforts were quite as misguided and terrible as the RCA Studio II, though. You think the Jaguar's bulky controllers are crappy? Check out this action:

That's right - the "controllers" are keypads built into the console itself. As in "non-removable." As in "holy shit, how do I work this thing?" Maybe they aren't so bad if you think of them in the same light as a modern keyboard, but considering that the Studio II's main rival - the Fairchild Channel F - featured corded joysticks, that's already one big strike against the hardware. The Fairchild also featured color graphics, while the Studio II's black-and-white visuals were already obsolete by the time it was released. And with the release of the Atari 2600 less than a year away, not even five built-in games (which featured such time-honored classics as Addition and Patterns!) could save the Studio II from being crushed under the treads of the Atari juggernaut.

Above: Popular Studio II game Speedway, also known as GHAAAAAAAGH

Best game: Gunfighter/Moonship Battle

Year: 1987

Culprit: Worlds of Wonder

US launch price: $99

What it would cost today: $183.95

Sucks because: This top spot was originally going to go to a used Genesis that one of our editors bought online, only to find out it didn't work right because it was filled to bursting with long-dead cockroaches - but we decided to give it to the Action Max instead. That's how shitty the Action Max is: given the choice, we'd rather play a Genesis full of terrifying bug husks.

The brainchild of Worlds of Wonder - the same people who gave the '80s Teddy Ruxpin and Lazer Tag - the Action Max was basically just a light gun, a box that hooked up to your TV and a handful of VHS tapes masquerading as games. The idea was simple: shoot at a movie, and if you hit the moving, strobe-like "targets" coded into the tape, you'd get points. And, yeah, that's about it.

A whopping five tapes were produced for the system (some say six, but the sixth one's usually listed as "unconfirmed"), and all of them ran about 20 to 30 minutes, featured sub-porn production values and never, ever offered anything new or different on subsequent viewings. For an idea of the incredible awesomeness that awaited Action Max owners, check out these trailers that somehow survived into the digital age:

Above: Spooks! Mechanical Crabs! Lasers! All of them terrible!

Shortly after producing the system, Worlds of Wonder went out of business. Some say the Action Max had little to do with that. We say it was divine retribution.

Best game: Sonic Fury, but only because it came packaged with the system and was therefore the only game you'd never have to go out and attempt to actually buy.

Did we leave out your least favorite console? Want to add some fuel to the fire?

Feel Free to Leave a Comment Below

Are Messages in Gaming Harming Us?

Yes, videogames can have messages in them too. Direct, indirect, tangential: read into it and it will be there (mostly when you project your own perception unto it). Like movies, books and dramas, video games can also have a moral message to tell us all, and arguably, it can be done better through this medium because of its inherent interactive nature--at least that’s what I believe.

I enjoy a good moral story every now and then, and occasionally I’ll come across one that will either have a lasting impression on my perception of the world before me, or it’ll utterly change me forever. It wasn’t even a few days ago, at the time of writing, that I watched the TV-film Threads (the British version), which is quite an eye-opener in and of itself, and I believe it was even more so for the people it aimed at back in the early 80s. The message of the story is that, had nuclear war happened back then, it would most probably have lead to X, Y and Z (which aren’t good things at all). It’s not a story for the faint of heart, but it definitely serves as a reminder of what could have happened, and thus has reinforced the impression within me that the “end-result” of nuclear war amounts to ash, radiation and utter Mutually Assured Destruction.

As I was processing the film’s information and images, I couldn't help but wonder if there are any videogames out there that may have a similar message, and I was surprised at the ones that popped into my head..

I believe video games can be more effective at delivering moral messages, because it’s the players who are forced to choose between moral or immoral acts, thus making the moral decision theirs. The inherent interactivity of videogames, I believe, makes moral messages more effective, because it’s unto the player in the end to initiate it. Reading a book or interpreting a movie doesn’t quite compare to enacting something yourself, even if it is in a virtual manner.

Sometimes it’s not even as ham-fisted as simply saying “press X to initiate ambiguous moral message to be interpreted in either way”. Sometimes a message can be more subtle or visually telling without actually being told, like in Anno 2070.

Like mostly everything else in the world, messages are interpretable by the perception and projection of the beholder, meaning that one message can have multiple meanings from person to person. Anno 2070 struck a particular chord with me because its underlying message of burning fossil fuels vs. renewable energy resources forces you to choose between balancing the two or going for one or the other. I’m pro-renewable energies, that I’ll freely admit, so tried my utmost to make sure my cities were as green as possible. 

Anno 2070 has this visual mechanic that shows how beneficial or detrimental you are to the local environment. The more beneficial you are, the more lush and green the environment looks. The more detrimental you are, the more desaturated and grey the environment looks. I didn't want everything to be greyed out, so when my environment got a little more grey and a little less green, I would endeavour to ensure I used as little fossil fuels as possible when I constructed my cities, and I didn’t utilise the convenience of having “tried and true” methods at my disposal, albeit sometimes there are occasions where I had no choice. I believe Anno 2070’s true underlying point is to somehow moderate between the two industries whilst weaning out the burning of fossil fuels and switching to renewable energy resources.

While Anno 2070 has its tangential message of moderating resource usage through visual effect, other games can indirectly express a message without showing you, but instead just telling you. Like human psychology and mental illness in The Cat Lady.

The Cat Lady is an exceptionally dark game. To tell you the truth, The Cat Lady struck a little too close to home for me, and I think it’s a game we should all at least watch a playthrough of, because of the content and messages that it deals with.

The Cat Lady tells the tale of Susan Ashworth, a woman suffering from depression and suicidal tendencies, who has been given immortality by her perception of whatever the “Devil” is, and is tasked to rid the world of “demons” (essentially inhuman people). As she tries to get a grip of reality again with her newfound powers, she befriends a young woman who wants to rent Susan’s spare room in her rather drab apartment.

During their bonding they begin to discuss the young woman’s boyfriend, who (in a nutshell) had taken his own life because he was influenced to by an internet troll. It was during this conversation as she was explaining the full story that I had my “oh, shit” moment. I had this moment because of how “to the point” it was and how comparable it was to real-life scenarios, things that happen--or will happen--today (like suicide), and just how upsetting it truly is to anyone affected by it.

The young woman went on to describe how internet trolls are people who thrive off the “thrill” of telling someone how much they suck, saying stuff like, “lol, go kill yourself,” or just generally being an absolute disgraceful pain in the arse. The game hints to the receiving end of that kind of abuse, telling you what such things can do to people who are mentally vulnerable, and when those unfortunate people do take their own lives as a way to escape the torment they suffer, because they can’t see an alternative at the time. It’s a shame--a real shame. The Cat Lady’s message, in this respect, is meant to serve as an eye-opener to just how damaging cyber-abuse can inflict on a person’s psyche.

The last game I’d like to use as an example is Spec Ops: The Line. Spec Ops expresses a message that I’ve never quite seen in video games before, and did so in quite an effective manner.

Those of you who have played Spec Ops may know where I'm going with this, but for those who don't, let me add a little context. You are the leader of a three-man squad sent to a desert storm-stricken Dubai in search of survivors. Throughout the game the main character is absolutely convinced that what he sees is real, slipping further into delusion and presses onward to find some answers to explain what went on in Dubai.

Eventually you are introduced to the weapon white phosphorus, and the tone and eerie silence in that scene communicates just how devastating this stuff is as you walk past the burning, groaning bodies in a haze of white and ash. Further down the line the main character progressively becomes less composed and less in control of the situation. Despite having a conscience on his shoulder via one of his squadmates, he presses onwards, further damning himself and his squad.

Near the end of the game, the squad comes to a point where there’s just an establishment of “enemies” between you and your destination, but you don’t have enough ammo to take them all out (I tried). The main character notices a cannon loaded with white phosphorus and decides to use it, despite the objections from the other squadmate serving as the conscience for that scene.

The aftermath of that sequence was...eerie. Very eerie. What made it really sink in for me was when I discovered that the soldiers you just burned were actually on my side, and in a small shelter, just around the corner. I see the burnt, charred remains of the survivors I had been searching for from the start, all of them captured in morbid effigies of the people who were struggling to escape the white-hot barrage as it bombarded them only moments before.

Never have videogames left me with a sinking feeling quite like I experienced when I saw that scene, at least not in recent memory. The message of that scene in particular displays a real ugliness of conflict, and gives a glimpse to what the horrors and miscommunications of war can lead to: a soldier trying to rationalize the situation when all there is to rationalize is that they’ve just needlessly and mistakenly taken innocent lives.

Yes, games were originally designed for fun. Yes, games were originally designed for escapism. However, I believe that the medium is a much more powerful platform, one where you can be put right into the boots of those who face situations and scenarios similar to those mentioned above. Message in video games, I believe, have more of an impact on us, because we are the ones interacting with whatever message the game is trying to tell us. We are the ones making it happen, whether it be of our own volition or not is a matter of narrative. It’s messages like these that can teach us, give us insight, and ultimately--maybe--open our eyes a little bit more, even if it’s just the seed of thought, like those who watched Threads back in ‘84 and turned anti-nuclear war practically overnight. We all need a good moral story every now and then.

Source: http://dispatches.cheatcc.com

The Elder Scrolls, The Elder Scrolls Online Release Date

The Elder Scrolls Online - Zenimax's MMO based in The Elder Scrolls universe - is set to release on April 4th, 2014 for the PC and Mac, Bethesda has announced. The PlayStation 4 and Xbox One versions of the game are expected to launch two months later, in June.

Bethesda also released a new trailer for the game, which showcases the game's PvP system.

This is From QuakeCon

Intro

Some of the most Underrated Games Of 2013

From SimCity To DMC: The Most Underrated Games Of 2013

At this stage of the calendar year, with the transition to new hardware and the current onslaught of software, it’s easy to get swept up in the annual gaming maelstrom. ’Tis the season, after all. Having said that, although this year may not signal the curtain call for the seventh generation of consoles per se — with Dark Souls II et al slated to release in 2014 — 2013 will still go down as a notable twelve months for the industry at large. Amid the build-up to the next cycle of home consoles, we’ve explored the xenophobic heights of Columbia in BioShock: Infinite, traversed a post-apocalyptic wasteland in The Last of Us, and took control of a criminal trifecta within Grand Theft Auto V. Undoubtedly, this pixelated trio stole much of the industry limelight during the course of the year, garnering overly positive approval from critics and gamers alike.

In the current climate, however, it seems a video game can either sweep the critical board like the aforementioned threesome with close to unanimous approval, or, more alarmingly, fall off the radar due to good, but not quite excellent ratings. These are the games that perhaps didn’t light up the Metacritic rating system upon launch and were instead forced to carve out a niche audience despite their innate quality. It’s a palpable issue; one which directly handicaps the staying power and overall longevity of any given release. Ultimately, though, it usually comes down to a lack of media coverage or advertising; particularly with smaller companies tethered with appropriately limited budgets.

As a result, these titles can become lost amongst the crowd; flash in the pan moments that sell moderately before nosediving down the chart rankings. Of course, this happens within every gaming year. For every critical darling like 2012’s The Walking Dead there exists the under-appreciated titles such as United Front Games’ Sleeping Dogs. It’s simply the nature of the medium; or any creative platform, for that matter. What strikes a chord with the majority of gamers may not appeal to certain demographics and vice versa. But, crucially, this enthusiasm, or lack thereof, doesn’t necessarily represent the quality of the software. The titles in question can fall victim to tumultuous launch windows, passionate fan bases or general franchise fatigue that can undermine their overall impact on the gaming community.

Undoubtedly, there have been several surprises this year: Crystal Dynamics’ bold visualisation of the Tomb Raider franchise, for instance, along with the revitalised Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn, which steered the once ailing MMO back on course expertly. Nevertheless, given the spectrum between triple-A titles and the thriving indie community — which has seemingly widened with each passing year — there are numerous games from the last twelve months that weren’t quite given the attention they deserved.

With that said, let’s uncover the hidden, critically underrated gems of 2013

SimCity

Well, where do we start? Like Diablo III before it, SimCity launched head first into an array of DRM-related issues that were a consequence of the game’s always-online requirement. In the months leading up to release, Maxis seemed to have laid every rocksteady foundation imaginable prior to the return of the franchise after a ten year hiatus and yet, much to the disappointment of the fans, the game was borderline unplayable during its early stages on the market. Like a burst water main that couldn’t be tamed, the online outage spanned for days on end and, without an offline mode to compensate, gamers were understandably pissed.

To put things into perspective, SimCity currently boasts close to 1,700 negative user reviews on Metacritic. It was an unparalleled backlash that has stigmatised the game since day one; a dark cloud that will forever loom overhead the towering skyscrapers of Maxis’ city-building simulator. It’s a shame, really, that the much-anticipated reboot of the studio’s prestigious franchise was handicapped by the always-online DRM. While it may have been originally implemented to combat piracy, it effectively tainted the return of SimCity and ruined a potentially excellent release; heck, before it launched, there were premature talks that this title could be a candidate for Game of the Year. Oh, how things change.

At the core of the buzzing metropolis, though, is an addicting, complex title that implements interconnectivity between cities masterfully. When it’s fully functional, and you manage to access the game’s temperamental servers, SimCity excels at presenting the complex minutia of your budding cityscape. Core systems such as power supply and traffic are easy to coordinate and manage for weathered architects and newcomers alike thanks to the intelligent AI. But perhaps the most impressive cog in SimCity’s multi-faceted system is the Glassbox game engine. The company’s in-house simulation engine acts as the foundation for the game and allows for an incredible amount of detail across the four corners of your urban environment. The fact that every individual sim can be accounted for and tracked, even as your population balloons past 75,000, is a testimony to Glassbox’s innate capability.

The recently released Cities of Tomorrow expansion pack proves that there’s still a healthy audience for Maxis’ simulator. Granted, it may forever be tarnished with those initial launch woes and server outages, but SimCity is still a remarkable time-sink that is accessible yet challenging, simple yet complex; one which can stand shoulder to pixelated shoulder with the other great offerings that the RTS genre has to offer.

Metro: Last Light

As one of the victims of THQ’s financial fallout last year, Metro: Last Light had to overcome several hurdles in the lead up to its eventual release; including considerable delays and alleged controversy over the game’s budget. This tumultuous development had a residual impact on the final product, with the studio opting to bypass multiplayer and cooperative modes, choosing instead to pour all of the resources available into the game’s single-player — and quite frankly, it shows.

Though they’re considered a mandatory add on, single-player campaigns within modern first-person shooters are often the weakest point of the overall product; undercooked narratives that are shoehorned in purely to dot the i’s and cross the t’s. Metro: Last Light, however, is a commendable exception. 4A Games’ immediate sequel to Metro 2033 continues the unforgivingly bleak storyline with great effect. Similarly to its predecessor, players assume the role of Artyom, a grizzled ranger who harbours a lifelong connection with the Dark Ones — mutated humanoids that act as the overarching villains.

Metro: Last Light is a strictly linear foray; one that has you exploring the bowels of Moscow’s sprawling metro system. Having said that, this concentrated formula doesn’t detract from the overall experience. What gives the game its distinctive sense of novelty is the palpable sense of atmosphere that the studio have melded into every nook and post apocalyptic cranny in the surrounding environment. The game wasn’t necessarily poorly received. Its primary flaws included uneven gameplay and numerous technical glitches — which I wholly concur with. Outside of critical circles, though, it felt as if the game was underserved through lacklustre advertising and its conscious choice to omit multiplayer and co-op modes, which in turn impacted its innate appeal for gamers who took it at face value.

Hype can be a cruel mistress. For a game that remains loyal to a single-player story, touching upon emotional, humanitarian themes with interesting precision in the process, Metro: Last Light deserved a greater shot at a mainstream audience. And though 4A Games plan to bring the title to the PlayStation 4 next year, its latest outing will remain as one of the most underrated games of 2013.

Amnesia: A Machine For Pigs

Survival horror seems to be witnessing a mini resurgence of late. Mind you, perhaps it’s more accurate to say that the genre’s lodestones — established brands such as Silent Hill andResident Evil — have failed to deliver in their recent outings. Nevertheless, with notable titles such as The Evil Within and Among The Sleep slated for next year and 2013 heralding spine-chilling releases such as Outlast — which, incidentally, will rear its otherworldly head on PS4 in early 2014 — and, crucially, Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs, I can assure you the horror genre is very much alive and kicking.

At the core of its dark and twisted DNA, Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs is a survival horror game, and the spiritual successor to 2010’s Amnesia: The Dark Descent. As a timid adventurer prodding in the darkness, players assume the role of Oswald Mundus, a forgetful father who must search for his wayward children as the 19th Century looms to an end. And that’s when things begin to go awry. The narrative heart of Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs is borderline Lovecraftian; from stylistic tendencies to the perpetual sense of dread, the point-and-click adventure evokes many of the tropes from the American author’s work.

Taking place in London at the height of the industrial age, the game recreates the Victorian setting with chilling accuracy — largely thanks to the stellar and indeed hair-raising sound design, which really reverberates through your nervous system when the Manpigs begin to wail. In truth, much of the story is uncovered through journal entries, but it’s within these fevered scribblings that the game’s narrative manifests itself. Though some titles lean on this mechanic as a bankable platform for superfluous exposition, Amnesia: A Machine For Pigsuses them to great effect as you piece together Oswald’s fragmented memory.

Where Amnesia: A Machine For Pigs stumbled for most, though, was in its final delivery. Not only did the eventual scares undermine the tension that preceded them, the story can indeed become muddled as you weave your way through the hellish, subterranean factory. Still, with The Chinese Room taking the developing reins — in lieu of Frictional Games, who developed the predecessor — Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs is a bona fide horror game; one which recognises that subtlety is the sharpest tool in its gnarled and twisted toolbox, kicking action-orientated elements to the kerb.

DMC

When Ninja Theory’s bold and radical reimagining of the Devil May Cry franchise was announced at Tokyo Game Show back in 2010, it ruffled more than a few demonic feathers. Long-time fans of Capcom’s hack-and-slash series cried out in anger over the modern interpretation of Dante, the game’s protagonist, criticising the sudden departure from the pearly white hair and the decision to introduce a younger Son of Sparda. For the first time, aDevil May Cry title was being manufactured by a British developer, and as the gun-toting demon slayer came West, Ninja Theory crafted the all-new Dante with a particular coat of sardonic paint.

Granted, the story may have been a little trite, and some missions felt like they were spliced in to meet the series’ signature twenty level structure — the level where you navigate the human world alongside Kat as a spectre, for instance. Nevertheless, DMC’s core campaign was fun, challenging and dripping with style. As you’d expect from any Devil May Cry release, dialogue and set-pieces are incredibly sarcastic and Ninja Theory excelled in their handling of the franchise’s legacy. The relationship between the characters, for example, felt genuine thanks in large part to the impressive voice acting which, coupled with the game’s modern, electronic score, brings the darkly satirical Limbo City to life brilliantly.

Perhaps the lynchpin of DMC, though, is the game’s combat system. Ninja Theory may have fine-tuned the fighting mechanic to make things more accessible on the surface — the simplified ranking system and overpowered demon weapons in particular — but there’s still a lot of depth to the familiar system. Much like Devil May Cry 4, switching between weaponry on the fly is deliriously empowering, and bludgeoning hell spawns with angelic and demonic weapons seamlessly as you grapple with airborne enemies is a hyperkinetic thrill ride.

Also, it drops F-bombs flippantly and pokes fun at fanboys while managing to comment on modern society with its tongue firmly in cheek. In fact, from the moment you pick up the controller, it feels like DMC has had one too many cans of Virility. And while Devil May Cry 3remains as the pinnacle entry in Capcom’s series in my book, Ninja Theory’s fiery reboot explored a lot of the franchise’s finer details and brought a pragmatic approach to characterisation that, up until this point, wasn’t necessarily considered.

Dragon’s Crown

In the build-up to release, Dragon’s Crown had a staggering weight on its shoulders. Not only did it represent Vanillaware’s most expensive project to date — a reported ¥100 million, or approximately $1 million — but the beat-em-up title has been lingering in development for thirteen years, a time which forced Ignition Entertainment to pass on the developing duties to Atlus. After this lengthy incubation period, Dragon’s Crown launched exclusively for PlayStation 3 and PlayStation Vita, and though it received generally favourable reviews, it perhaps deserved a little more praise for reintroducing a very dormant genre.

Like all categories in gaming, the 2D beat-em-up has experienced its fair share of peaks and troughs; although with the mass-market push towards 3D adventure games of late, the genre’s legacy has filtered into hack and slash properties such as God of War and the aforementionedDevil May Cry. Nevertheless, Dragon’s Crown harnesses the old school sensibilities found in games such as Guardian Heroes and Odin Sphere — which, incidentally, was also developed by Vanillaware — to deliver a truly modern, hyper-stylised, beat-em-up title.

Often when two genres are merged, the results can be somewhat lacklustre. But Dragon’s Crown skates past that pitfall stylishly, implementing some highly addicting character progression choices alongside a randomised, Diablo-esque loot system. For the game, your side-scrolling begins in the realm of Hydeland, wherein you must take up arms as one of the game’s six classes — namely The Dwarf, Elf, Sorceress, Fighter, Wizard and Amazon — to reclaim the titular Dragon’s Crown and restore the calm.

Truthfully, the narrative through line feels a little generic, and the fact that there are only eight dungeons to fully explore is a little disappointing, particularly when visiting the locales for the second, third and fifteenth play-through. Having said that, the combat system in Dragon’s Crown is complex and rewarding. It’s so grounded in conventions that it will feel intuitive to any RPG fan from the get-go. And though the game drew criticism for its female character models — with the Sorceress drawing particular attention — Dragon’s Crown is an eye-catching title that offers style, substance and replayability in spades.

Dead Space 3

They say bad things come in threes, and there is perhaps no other gaming protagonist who could attest to this motto more-so than Isaac Clarke; Dead Space’s very own engineer-cum-monster hunter. Picking up the dismembered threads of its predecessor, Dead Space 3 takes place largely on Tau Volantis; an abandoned ice planet that’s been overrun by nasty necromorphs — go figure. For the game, players are tasked with recovering a wayward, 200-year old codex to unearth the planet’s mysteries, all the while trying to trace Ellie’s SOS signal — Isaac’s love interest from the second game — amidst the unforgiving terrain (imagine Hoth, but overrun with reanimated corpses).

Dead Space 3 also marks the introduction of several new features for the series, including cooperative play and pesky human enemies in the form of Unitologists. One of the standout features of the game, however, is the way in which the harsh environment filters into the gameplay. Visceral Games haven’t simply transposed our world-weary hero to a new locale for the sake of it. From thick blizzards obscuring your field of view to the way your body temperature plummets when exposed to the elements, it’s almost as if you can feel the icy cold air creep down your spine from the other end of the screen.

In gaming, threequels have been a historically difficult feat to pull off. For the third release, it’s quite often the case that an intellectual property begins to either stutter due to repetition — Batman: Arkham Origins, for example — or, in a bid to keep things fresh, implement a new feature that inevitably dilutes the core heritage. Alas, Dead Space 3 is a slightly less linear foray than its ancestors, and though it may not be — whisper it — as scary or unnerving as the first two titles, there’s still plenty of moments in the game when you realise that playing alone in the dark probably wasn’t the best strategy.

Over the years, Visceral Games’ interstellar property has established a sense of legacy through its interesting, quasi-religious story and signature, horrific aesthetic. And though I would tend to agree that the series has become more action-orientated with each iteration, diluting the sense of tension in favour of blockbuster set-pieces, there’s still an innate gravitas to Isaac Clarke’s space-traversing odyssey that lends Dead Space 3 the benefit of the doubt.

Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell: Blacklist

It’s difficult to pinpoint the exact reason why Splinter Cell: Blacklist — the latest in Tom Clancy’s long-running, espionage franchise — fell off the community’s green-tinted radar so soon after launch. Though Ubisoft made the decision to pass over Michael Ironside’s signature night vision googles to newcomer Eric Johnson — the Canadian actor who assumed the role of Sam Fisher’s voice and performance capture — Blacklist picked up the narrative reins from its immediate predecessor, Splinter Cell: Conviction, with style.

The sixth installment brings back several much-loved features from previous titles. Not only does Splinter Cell: Blacklist include the ‘stealth-only’ option for the game’s campaign, but, after a seven year hiatus, Spies vs. Mercs returned for the multiplayer component; which brings its interesting blend of first-person and third-person perspectives to the tactical playing field. In terms of story, the United States comes under threat from a terrorist organisation called ‘The Engineers,’ prompting Fisher to lead the Fourth Echelon against the group in order to protect the Blacklist – a list of US assets that act as the plot’s MacGuffin.

With 14 unique co-op assignments to complete and four different mission types available,Splinter Cell: Blacklist isn’t exactly short of content. Granted, there were several technical issues during its early days on the market — which, for me, materialised in the form of freezing issues on the PlayStation 3 — and though the core campaign wasn’t anything to write home about, the latest entry into Tom Clancy’s prestigious series has the production values of the biggest triple-A title with the intelligence to match.

Tell us, were there any games from the last twelve months that you felt didn’t receive the critical praise they so deserved? If so, be sure to drop your thoughts in the comments section below.

Source: http://wegotthiscovered.com