Silent Hill: Downpour

Silent Hill is a series that died with a slow gurgle in the back of its throat, wheezing through several iterations of life-support before the monitors blips ceased to do so. I can’t even fully put the blame on the numerous developer-for-hires that picked up the series after the dissolution of Team Silent, as The Room is a decidedly more mixed game than the previous entries. Now that Silent Hill seems to have finally keeled over, I finally decided to work my way through a Silent Hill game that has been in my backlog for years: Downpour.

Downpour is a more difficult game to try and figure out then Homecoming. Homecoming was a derivative and awful piece of work, trying so hard to capture the glory of the series’ past without any greater understanding of what made it good, a quintessential example of why fans taking over a series in the wake of its original creators is often ill-advised. It regurgitated so many elements of the series — poorly, I might add — without creating nearly enough to stand out on its own, hoping to live up Silent Hill 2 through inept imitation.

By comparison, Downpour is a mess of good ideas executed with mixed success. While not its greatest failing, its attachment to the name Silent Hill brings along unfavorable comparisons to better-realized games, though Downpour certainly can say it tried. In fact, the aspects that force it to come back to Silent HIll end up being the weakest parts of the game.

The plot of Downpour concerns Murphy Pendleton, who opens the game murdering a child molester named Patrick Napier. After some time passes, Murphy is being transferred to a new prison under the care of Officer Anne Cunningham. During the transfer, Silent Hill rears its ugly head and causes the bus to crash. Seemingly the only survivor, Murphy’s attempt to escape forces him through the city, where he must face the horrors of the town and of his own past in usual Silent Hill fashion.

The first and most prevalent aspect of the game is its technical shortcomings. I played this game on PS3 and I can only hope that the Xbox 360 got the better end of the stick in that regard. Downpour‘s framerate is inconsistent, horrible loading times plague everything from retries to opening doors to walking around different portions of the town, and stuttering accompanies every autosave. Never before has “behind-the-scenes” loading been so readily apparent. Numerous times I feared the game had crashed when opening doors to new areas or even crossing some of the larger ones. It’s an ever-present problem throughout the game and if that’s a deal-breaker than this game isn’t for you. Also, this is an Unreal 3 game and its very noticeable, with popping textures left and right.

Even outside of general technical performance, the mechanical aspects of the game are suspect as well. Combat itself is terrible, cumbersome to a fault, but unlike Homecoming, Downpour doesn’t attempt to make it the centerpiece, instead giving the option to evade or outmaneuver most situations, an option a gladly took. That said, Downpour has an interesting system where Murphy cannot hold onto weapons in his inventory, instead weapons are strewn throughout the game and are far more temporary. Anything from bottles, bricks, chairs, pipes, and axes can be picked up and used as a weapon until it breaks. It gives a very impromptu and improvised feel to the survival aspect of the game, giving the feeling of using whatever was available to you to get by. It’s a system used to much lesser extant in The Last of Us, but it may even be more realized here.

But the options for combat almost completely invalidate this neat idea. Within the clunky combat, Murphy can lock on, block, and do basic attacks, but he can also throw the weapon in desperation. A nice inclusion, but its almost worthless and can almost make parts of the game inaccessible. Certain weapons have uses outside of combat, such as using an axe to break down wooden boards or using fireplace pokers to pull down fire escape ladders, but one poorly thrown axe can have you scouring the level to find another. It doesn’t help that adventure game logic takes over, where ONLY a fireplace poker can pull down a ladder, whereas the similarly-shaped weapons cannot.

After an introduction sequence, Murphy finally makes it to Silent Hill proper, which is one likely the most open the town has ever been. The city blocks are densely designed and filled with detail, each open house or door a different side quest that helps develop the town and brings it to life in ways that Homecoming failed miserably. Of course, modern game design dictates that each side quest be listed as such in a journal, turning the almost natural progression of exploration in the town into another checklist. The side quests are all non-sequiturs, but are interesting enough to keep you exploring.

And exploring is what you will spend most of the time doing. Many items, such as staples like maps and flashlights, need to be found but are easier to miss than ever. I actually appreciate that the game rewards careful exploration of the environment, which nets you proper maps and other helpful things, but without them the game definitely becomes more of a hassle. After a reload that cost me quite a few minutes of time, I failed to find where the map was once again and spent the rest of the game without a map of Silent Hill, making navigation quite difficult (Even Pathologic gives you a map).

As I said before, the game being tied to the Silent Hill name ends up dragging it down more than helping it. The Otherworld makes a reappearance and is of a unique design, but fails to inspire terror in any way, shape, or form. In a silly attempt to create an exciting chase scene, during the Otherworld sequences a giant red ball will appear that slowly eats away at Murphy when nearby. So you run away, but through really uninteresting environments with really stock obstacles to avoid. I have no idea if the ball is meant to represent Murphy’s guilt or his repressed memories or why else this is in the game except to create an “exciting” moment, but it makes the trips to the Otherworld more rote than anything else. Admittedly, these accounted for most of my deaths, but mostly though trial and error rather than actual difficulty.

Monster design is some of the weakest in the series, one of the few areas of the game Homecoming manages to surpass it, if only just. All enemies can be filed under creepy claw lady or feral brute guy. They come in different flavors, like invisible creepy claw lady, but there is very little to talk about in that regard. Horror is missing from most of the proceedings, Downpour builds an atmosphere but does offer any payoff with it. This is likely the game’s biggest failing, even given the technical shortcomings.

Downpour isn’t a bad game so much as it is a disappointing one. The West often gets a lot of crap for failing to deliver on the Silent Hill experience, but Vatra Games did the best of any of them, at least in the case of an original take on the series. Their ambition far outweighed their means, but that’s a better reason for failure than cheap mimicry or misplaced homage.

Revisiting Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots

While I managed to finish my replay of the series leading up to MGSV, my write-ups fell behind as I have been caught up in the game itself, drawing me in to its drastically different take on the series. But before that can happen, a look at the series capstone Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots is in order.

Five years after the events of Metal Gear Solid 2, nanomachines have redefined warfare to the point that entire armies are integrated with them, allowing for inhuman levels of coordination and control of key bodily functions, both physical and psychological, essentially making the perfect soldiers instantaneously without the need for rigorous training or experience. Snake, now referred to as Old Snake as a result of the onset rapid aging courtesy of the cloning process that made him, is still on the trail of Ocelot, now known as Liquid Ocelot due to his grafted arm — which was originally Liquid Snake’s — slowly taking over his conscious mind.

As the story progresses, Snake discovers that Liquid is planning to take over the Patriots, a collection of AI that controls nearly every function of the modern world, including the nanomachines that power most of the world’s military forces. To do this, he needs the remains of Big Boss, whose genetic code is the master key to controlling the Patriots AI. This sends Snake on a worldwide chase to cut off Ocelot, all while trying to find out how to prevent the rapid aging destroying his body long enough to see the mission through to the end.

Overall, I’ve been kind to the series despite its many faults because it is a series that I loved and grew up with. There is a certain nostalgia to my inclination toward the series even when I attempt to give it a more critical eye. With MGS4 this task is a bit easier, as it is the most problematic game in the series, both because of what it does so well and what goes so horribly wrong.

MGS4 is a unique take on the series in and of itself. For the first time since Metal Gear Solid, the series had completely reinvented itself for a more modern age. Gone are the static camera angles and dated controls, instead replaced with a permanent third-person camera and dual-stick movement. Environments are now bigger than they’ve ever been, covering far more ground and being much more detailed in the process. The game adopts a new, chapter-based structure that allows it to hop locations more frequently, allowing for more varied types of play. The level design, especially the first two chapters, are some of the most interesting bits in the series.

The stealth has also been streamlined and for the better. Keeping the camouflage system from MGS3, a percentage rating shows Snake’s visibility to enemies. However, instead of constant trips to the menu for each new surface you come into contact with, Snake is now equipped with the Octocamo, which transforms to match the texture and consistency of whatever surface he’s resting against for several seconds. It smooths the process and is just a fun visual mechanic all-around. Snake now also has a Psych Meter, replacing the Stamina Meter from MGS3. The Psych Meter directly relates to Snake’ mental state on the field, as the meter depletes he stops healing over time and his aim becomes shaky and uncontrollable. When its full, he acts normal.

This is one of the many things that ties into the game’s theme of “Sense”. The character’s emotional states, while always an important part of drama, but Kojima attempts to tie it into the game’s mechanics as well. Snake, now being hold and essentially being held together by the functions of his suit, constantly shows signs of minor pains and aches of old age. Snake can restore his Psych Meter by taking certain drugs or listening to his iPod. The main enemy force of the game, The Beauty and the Beast squad, are each a reaction to base emotion, like crying or laughter.

Mostly though, Kojima gets his point across through the very aspect of Snake’s decrepitude. It isn’t very common that players control a elderly character, even one as agile as Snake. The entire game plays out like a tragedy, a man racing to a foregone unhappy ending because its the only thing he’s ever known how to do. “I’m no hero, I’m just an old man hired to do some wetwork.” Snake says, underlining the series’ maxim that soldiers are less a heroic image to live up to than a necessary evil, tools used by those more manipulative to further their own means. The only conclusion the game can reach is that Snake doesn’t make it out alive, so the question becomes whether he can do it before its too late.

But here is the part where things go horribly wrong. MGS4 is the unfortunate follow-up to a question that was never really meant to be answered. MGS2 is such a complex Hail Mary of ideas and concepts, many of which go unanswered on purpose, that to find a fitting answer for all of them is a Herculean task that even Kojima would find difficult. And lo and behold, he fails.

Nanomachines are a common point of criticism for the game and with food reason, they dominate the discussion and mini-series worth of cutscenes. The serve as a large band-aid for some of the series more fantastical elements. Why can’t Vamp stay dead? Nanomachines. How can the Patriots control every individual on the planet? Nanomachines. What’s keeping Snake and Naomi Hunter alive? Nanomachines. It’s underdeveloped and overexposed to the point of hilarity.

What’s more, the game itself also has to serve as a sendoff to to a long-running series which causes Kojima to indulge his worst habits. Pretty much every still-living character in the series — and some non-living ones — makes a reappearance, from deserved ones like EVA and Meryl to tacky scenes featuring Mei Ling. Raiden in particular is one of the most bizarre changes, changing from an unpopular Snake to an unpopular Grey Fox. The ending of the game itself is also horribly contrived, wrapping everything up into a nice little bow and taking an hour to do so. Which is a shame, since Kojima’s direction is still on point, it merely overstays its welcome. Its redundant at this point to mention the writing, but this is the worst cutscene to gameplay ratio in the series and it shows. All this to give the game a happy ending that the game doesn’t even seem to want.

Still, I can’t bring myself to call it a bad game, not by a longshot. The gameplay, when it appears, is the best in the series up until this point and is brimming with personality and detail. And although the cutscenes are too many, Kojima manages to make some great scenes, both in and out of gameplay. This series was never going to end in a totally satisfying manner, there is too much going on to wrap it all up succinctly and effectively, but even on its own merits its a worthwhile game, filled with the insanity and fun the series is famous for, even if you have to wade through some bad to get there.

Revisiting Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty

One poster on NeoGAF, who I did not have the foresight to remember the name of, once posted that postmodernism, the prevailing trend of the present, owes its prevalence to the audiences desire to have their smart with their stupid. People want their media — their music, movies, video games, etc. — to make them think “new” ideas while indulging their id with fantastically familiar. Media with irreverent self-awareness and apparent cynicism that attempts to have its cake and eat it to, like trying to mix Star Wars and 2001. Its a difficult balance to strike and more often than not fails to live up to its high concept in narrative or thematic terms.

It is this very reason that Metal Gear Solid 2 remains the most divisive of the entire series. An entire sequel predicated on the very idea that sequels are a fool’s errand, a waste of time that only serves to offer more of the same with diminishing returns. An not wholly original idea undermined by the series continued existence, for sure, but an intriguing one in AAA game development, even to this day. Additionally, and even more so than the rest of the series, it explores the relationship between the game and the player, the director and the audience. But this is all diving in a bit too early, so perhaps a bit of introduction.

Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty was originally released in 2001 for the PlayStation 2, being the highly anticipated sequel to Metal Gear Solid, which had released three years prior. The game takes place two, and later four, years after the events of Shadow Moses, with Solid Snake and Otacon now working for a rogue anti-nuclear group Philanthropy. The game begins with Solid Snake sneaking aboard a tanker said to be transporting a new form of Metal Gear, attempting to gain access to it.

This, however, is all a ploy. Minutes after finding the newly-christened Metal Gear Ray, an old enemy returns in the form of Revolver Ocelot, capturing Ray and sinking the tanker with Snake aboard, purportedly killing him. Immediately the game shifts to two years later, where a familiar scene of a man scuba dives his way into a base, being debriefed on the mission he is about to embark on. The Big Shell, a base built to clean up the oil spill from the sunk tanker two years prior, has been taken over by a terrorist group named The Sons of Liberty, who know that the true purpose of Big Shell is to house the new Metal Gear project. This man is Raiden, initially named Snake as well, who has been tasked with rescuing the President, who has been kidnapped, and assessing the terrorist threat of a nuclear attack and stopping it.

If this is at all sounding familiar, it is a plot lifted wholesale from the game’s predecessor and intentionally so. In fact, disregarding the mechanical elements of the game, which are a marked improvement over Metal Gear Solid, the entire plot hits the same beats and attempts to reproduce the same storytelling path. Major Campbell, Solid Snake’s handler from MGS, reprises his role as operation lead. The Sons of Liberty stands in for the FOXHOUND unit from MGS, the President stands in for DARPA Chief, there is a Harrier instead of a Hind D, a torture scene, a ninja, and a nuclear threat is present throughout.

I suppose I should take a second to acknowledge that while revisiting the series for the first time in almost a decade I came to a realization that I hadn’t before but many others had. Metal Gear Solid cutscenes are bad. I had always known the writing was terrible and MGS 2 is among the worst — a title that 4 also competes with — but I had always stood up for Kojima’s direction. In regard to MGS 2 at the very least, I have to admit defeat. These cutscenes suck. Long extended cutscenes that spend just as much narrating over stock footage as it does in motionless, CODEC dialogue sequences. I love Metal Gear Solid 2 but I was flat out bored watching many of the game’s cutscenes.

But back on point, MGS 2 shows its true colors at the end of the game and I mean that in more way than one. After the game’s torture sequence, Raiden is aboard a floating ship that houses several dozen Metal Gears when the facade begins to fail and what were once normal instructions given by Campbell have become cryptic, random, and disturbing messages from a faulty computer system. It is revealed that the entirety of the game, from the beginning of the Big Shell chapter onward, has been a live test run of a plan set in motion by the Patriots, an Illuminati-esque shadow organization that has been controlling the world. The so-called S3 plan, which stands for Solid Snake Simulation, was to accurately recreate the conditions of the Shadow Moses incident to see if it was possible to use the data to train a new generation of soldiers via virtual methods to become as good of a soldier as Solid Snake. The game not only serves as a simulation for Raiden, an unwilling pawn, but for the player, a far more willing one.

Then the game pulls the rug out from under the player again to get to the core of its theme. In s twist piled on top of a twist, the Patriots, acting through an AI, reveal that the S3 plan had nothing to do with Solid Snake and that it was actually put into place to see whether or not they could continue to exhibit control over the populace in the age of digital information. You see, the Patriots were always able to easily hold control over the people through ignorance, but with the rise of the internet era information became free-flowing and openly available, so much so that they feared that people would actually become more ignorant and forget meaningful and important information while being inundated with “junk data”. The S3 plan, which ultimately stood for the Selection for Societal Sanity, proved successful with Raiden’s killing of the leader the Sons of Liberty, former president and Big Boss clone Solidus Snake, meaning the Patriot’s control of the masses could continue to be exerted.

For someone who has never played this game or series before just read the previous two paragraphs, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to understand. I’ve played the game and it’s a lot to take in, especially having to sift through all the inane elements hallmark of Kojima’s style. But there is no denying that after getting through the fat, the meat on the bone is enticing through and through.

Firstly, you have the idea of the sequel, a re-visitation of a world or universe that seems ripe for further exploitation that usually results in the same but more. MGS 2 revels in this at every opportunity: Raiden performs aerials instead of Snake’s simpler somersault; Instead of fighting a helicopter you fight a fighter jet; Rather than combating one Metal Gear at the end of the game, you fight multiple. It fails intrinsically to live up to what people loved about the first game so much but uses that to great effect. The game literally has you beginning the game as Raiden following Solid Snake’s footsteps. MGS 2 manages to succeed in making the iterative jump thanks to a focus on expansion, less so mechanically than world-building.

More importantly, you have Kojima’s startling accurate predictions for the future, always a good sign in Science Fiction (when the game actually decides to be). Kojima intended for the theme of the game to be “Meme” and now more than ever is that particularly relevant. In a world of Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or whatever other flavor of the month social media is making the rounds, information is easier to obtain than ever. Even then, most of what you see it being used for is sharing silly internet videos, “profound” messages to simple to be so, repetitive pictures with words attached to them for comedic effect, and masturbatory fads that do little more than bring people together in a general nodding of agreement or create massive divides over the most minor of disagreements. Almost all human knowledge is at the fingertips of so many on this Earth, most of whom would rather read about “26 Commercials Only Nineties Kids Will Understand”.

It’s one thing to have a sympathetic villain, its another to have a villain that seems right, even if the Patriots are only self-serving with their goals. Even I may harp on Kojima’s bad writing, but I honestly feel he hit it out of the park with the Patriot’s monologue (Script taken from IGN):

Colonel    : You exercise your right to "freedom" and this is the result. All
             rhetoric to avoid conflict and protect each other from hurt. The
             untested truths spun by different interests continue to churn and
             accumulate in the sandbox of political correctness and value
             systems.

Rose       : Everyone withdraws into their own small gated community, afraid
             of a larger forum. They stay inside their little ponds, leaking
             whatever "truth" suits them into the growing cesspool of society
             at large.

Colonel    : The different cardinal truths neither clash nor mesh. No one is
             invalidated, but nobody is right.

Rose       : Not even natural selection can take place here. The world is
             being engulfed in "truth."

The game ends on an open note, with Solid Snake telling Raiden that the future is his, that change is possible but that it needs to start now. A rather rote message to give after all the insanity preceding it, but one that feels earned because of it.

I can understand why people wouldn’t like this game. It’s messy, maybe a bit too ambitious for its own good, and overwritten to a fault. But without a doubt there are few games, even modern ones, that broach any of the subjects discussed with this one and definitely fewer with the flair or style of Kojima. And understandably his approach of “stupid first, write a book later” can be cumbersome and, frankly, bad, but few can deny there is as unobstructed a vision as his in the gaming industry and this was the first — and to date, best — example of it at work. Metal Gear Solid 2 may be not be the best game in the world, or even the series, but it is the most important one, not only for its historical value in video game history but for its thematic value in video games and the greater culture they are but a sliver of.