I downloaded Prince of Persia: Classic to play with my friend over the weekend. He had told me that it was supposed to be great and he was very excited to try it out. Assuming that it would be worth the $10 or so, I decided not to waste my time with a demo and go straight for the full version.

First, my friend and I took turns playing. When one of us would complete a level or die repeatedly, we'd switch off. This worked pretty well through the first few levels. The visuals looked great and the Prince moved swiftly. The combat mechanics seemed a little rough, but I thought that I just needed more time to get used to it.

We progressed until the fourth level, when suddenly we got stuck. Perhaps it was the fact that we had found so few of the health increase potions. Maybe it was the combat system. Whatever it was, we both got frustrated because we had an incredibly hard time defeating a common enemy. Once in a while we did beat the enemy, but there was no checkpoint right afterwards, and a misstep in a difficult jump sequence made it all worthless. Prince of Persia: Classic is very unforgiving.

I stopped playing the game after multiple attempts at the fourth level. I was ready to give it up entirely. Fortunately, my friend is more patient or perhaps just more stubborn. After a short break, he continued to play through the game and is nearly finished now. However, it was not without repeated swearing and complaining that he progressed that far. While he did not face the same block that we found earlier, he still didn't seem to be having a lot of fun.

It seems that we may have run into such frustration for two reasons: not finding the life potions and the lack of consistency in combat. The fact that we didn't find all the potions to give our Prince more health was entirely within our control, but the combat was not. Although we could have looked up the secret locations to extend our health or explored more on our own, many of the potions were well-hidden. Areas that don't appear to be accessible until you jump to them suddenly become visible. However, this leap-before-you-look philosophy can be very dangerous. As I mentioned earlier, one bad jump can set you back several minutes, especially when there are difficult enemies. While the areas become very obvious once you discover them, it seems to work well only upon repeat plays of the levels. I am not the kind of player who enjoys returning to games over and over, and I think this type of play may have worked better in the arcade setting.

The second most frustrating part of the game was the combat system. If you tried to counter an attack one way and it failed, the next time that same method would work (and vice versa). It was incredibly inconsistent and lacked a cohesive pattern. In this way, it felt less like a skill-based game and more emphasis was placed on chance. Also, attack animations could take a long time, and button mashing would cause the Prince to execute all the commands in order, but slowly. It felt like watching a slow computer, clicking away while the cursor spins and you just have to watch while your Prince dies.

Although I did not play the game for as long as my friend, I experienced enough frustration to show me that Prince of Persia: Classic is not my type of game. If you want to read a more in-depth review from my friend who played with me, check it out here: Design Review: Prince of Persia Classic.  

When I heard that a little site called Club Penguin had sold for $700 million, I thought that it must be a mistake. This idea that some online community for children could sell for that much money was simply astounding. One of my professors asked me to create an academic presentation on Club Penguin, so I soon had the opportunity to answer my burning question: What made Club Penguin worth $700 million?

I signed onto the site and created my own happy penguin avatar. I was immediately struck by the cute factor on the website. It had a nice visual style that didn’t look overtly “kiddish” (i.e. exaggerated cartoon style or abundant embarrassing imitations of children’s handwriting). The colors were tasteful while remaining bright and cheerful. The penguin theme really worked – it unified the social areas and gave a nice blue and white color theme. Competitor site WebKinz is full of cuteness as well, but the bright rainbow of pinks, yellows, oranges, and purples detracts from the content.

I explored the world, expecting to find a myriad of games. I was surprised to find no advertised game signs to point me in the right direction; I had to hover my mouse over normal-looking objects like a boat or a coffee bean sack to even see the text indicating that it was a link to a game.

With such little focus on the games in the community areas, I expected the social aspect to be booming. Unfortunately, I found that a lot of my penguin peers were not very chatty. Most penguins moved quickly from one area to the next. Some penguins did seem to hang out on the screen but said very little. I tried asking a few questions and consistently did not receive a response until I asked a question a few times. The other penguins didn’t seem unfriendly; they just weren’t interested in long chats.

If all the penguins aren’t hanging around chatting, where is the draw in Club Penguin? As a non-paying member, I had little access to what appeared to be the greatest attraction: the materialism element. Penguins all over the site were dressed in flashy outfits, walking fluffy pets called puffles, and inviting each other to parties at their fancy igloos. Paying members can earn in-game currency through the minigames, which they then use to buy clothing, accessories, pets, furniture, appliances, and technology for themselves and their igloos. The penguin avatars can essentially become walking status symbols.

In order to get the currency, players must log many hours in the minigames. After playing a few of these minigames, I found that the currency was relatively easy to obtain. The minigames are mainly simple flash-based games with very basic controls. Generally, games use the mouse or the arrow keys (with or without the spacebar). I was very surprised to see that there are only about 14 games total on the website – ten single-player, four multiplayer. The games seem very easy at first but quickly become more and more difficult. Fortunately, players can continue to play the easier levels over and over and still receive the same amount of currency. In this way, it caters to a player base of all levels, but those with fewer skills will have to have more patience.

As a college student, Club Penguin does not really seem like my type of game. It is cute and fun (for about half an hour) but it’s not nearly enough to keep me coming back. What I began to realize is that Club Penguin is not a runaway success because of the social element. It’s about the status and fulfilling fantasies; kids want to build their dream homes and ideal wardrobes while playing some fun games. Maybe once in a while they’ll meet someone new, but only if they have time after playing some of those minigames again.  

I recently had to play two "light" MMOs for class: Toontown and Puzzle Pirates. Even if both games were designed for different age groups, the social interactions in each were dramatically different. It seems that Toontown is much more focused on social interactions. One of my first tasks in Toontown was to make at least one friend. I found it very easy to make friends here, as I asked several people to be my friend and almost all accepted. Unfortunately, this ease of friending makes the friendship more hollow.

In Puzzle Pirates, all of my first tasks were independent. While my duty puzzles did help members of the crew (each of us had a duty like carpentry, bilge pumping, and sailing), each was a series of puzzles that I completed alone. The constant “duty reports” reminded me that I was working alongside a crew, but these interruptions didn’t really encourage social interaction.

After completing three duty puzzles in Puzzle Pirates, I decided to explore the town. I went into a building that looked like a restaurant. I tried to check out a few games at tables where I saw one or two people seated. However, most of the activities were limited to paying members. I then went over to a table with a crowd of people. It was a central table that allowed players to access multiple parlor games. However, none of these people appeared to be talking to each other, at least outside of games. The multiplayer games may have had conversations, but the crowd in the outside world was silent.

Toontown had a very different atmosphere. There was much more chatter, from the taunts of enemies to the very vocal creatures at the headquarters. Even if these animals didn’t have a mission for you, they would talk to you. I received several friend requests and even was surprised when a message appeared on my screen later, stating that one of my friends needed help in battle. I teleported to them immediately and found that two of her other friends had done the same. There were four of us in battle, all determined to help our friend. This friend was someone I knew nothing about other than the facts that she was in danger and she had asked me to be her friend. If her other two friends knew as little about her as I did, then the game must have done something special to establish a connection between us.

How does Toontown unite people better than Puzzle Pirates? Toontown keeps everyone on the same side. While you fight against enemies, you can always have a friend in battle and you never seem to fight other players. In Puzzle Pirates, the spirit of pirates reigns true: pirates are out for small crews or for themselves. The activities are more isolated and there are more selfish goals. It does not seem like gifts are encouraged like they are with the big gift button in Toontown’s “Cattlelog.” While I am not opposed to social interaction, I am more inclined to play a game like Puzzle Pirates because it feels much less invasive and the social dynamic is less of a focus.  

I’m still thinking about Bioshock. I haven’t even played the game – I only watched it – yet it’s on my mind. Perhaps the critics were right: there’s something about this game that hits you on a deeper level.

Lately I’ve been wondering, how did Bioshock remain scary without anyone jumping out in the demo? It may be because of the frightening story of a utopia gone wrong, where little girls become soulless monsters and people brutally kill their best friends. Still, I can’t help thinking that it’s more than that.

In Bioshock, you are an outsider in the city, so you don’t really care about it, but the horror of the game still affects you on some level. The game encourages you to loot corpses. Many games do this, and it is probably essential to survival in many of those hypothetical plots, but does that make it right? The splicers are selfish beings who kill each other and are only out for themselves. If you loot corpses and kill splicers, you essentially become a splicer yourself.

When first entering the city of Rapture, there is a scene where one splicer attacks another. These attacks happen in front of you multiple times. I kept expecting there to be a “good” side and a “bad” side – like some sort of resistance. My friend informed me that the story of the game explains how the resistance has been defeated, making your situation more hopeless. However, I was surprised by the lack of a companion. Outside of the companion accessible through the radio, there is really no one checking in with you. No one in this game seems to be “on your side” – no one wants to help you get out alive unless they believe it will help them (like the radio guide).

These factors help to isolate you and make your situation all the more desperate. I keep thinking back to that scene where the splicer was drilled by the Big Daddy. The gore didn’t bother me, but the lack of emotion I felt did. Why didn’t I care about this city and the fact that people were tearing themselves apart? Why did I find myself laughing at the monstrous little girl when she said normal children’s words in a creepy voice?

It seems that games allow us to have an unnatural separation from the morals we use in daily life. Perhaps this is a motivation for some to play. I am personally shocked by the way in which I slip into this lax sense of morality. While watching my friend play Bioshock, I would ask him if he checked this or that corpse in the corner to make sure he raided all the items. I saw enemies like tasks on a to-list: kill him, kill her, and kill that one over there.

It is common to separate ourselves from the enemy in games, but does that make it right? People separate themselves from enemies in wars so they can kill them. We voluntarily play games against enemies that are very human in nature, from Germans in war games to zombies. I have no problem at all killing monsters in games, but killing people in the virtual space feels different. I have no problem with other people playing these games since the vast majority seems to have a strong distinction between reality and virtual worlds. However, I don’t like the part of myself that can human enemies like animals to slaughter, so it may be hard for me to ever have the desire to buy a game like Bioshock.  

I didn’t think I’d want to see Bioshock. I’m way too jumpy for scary games and I prefer to play games in fantasy worlds that I’d actually want to visit. I downloaded the Bioshock demo for a friend so I could watch the game without actually playing it. That way, if it got too scary, I could always run away.

I was about to leave my friend alone to play the game but I hesitated before leaving the room. I had heard so many great things about this game from fans and critics alike; I figured it wouldn’t hurt me to watch the opening cutscene.

I was immediately drawn in by the sharp visuals, particularly the stunning water effects. This was one of the first games I saw with the HDMI plug on my HDTV, making it stand out among so many games I’d seen. From the plane crash in the beginning to the neon lights in the dimly-lit city of Rapture, the visual design was simply stunning.

I was surprised that the demo didn’t explore the scare factor that I was dreading. I was able to watch a good 30 minutes of gameplay in the creepy atmosphere without once experiencing something jumping out of the dark. This meant that I didn’t scream, but I did see something shocking.

As my friend was going through the game, he came upon a scene with a girl repeatedly jabbing a corpse’s butt. After venturing closer, a scene plays where a guy gets vividly drilled by a Big Daddy. I was impressed by the game’s ability to smoothly transition from gameplay to interactive cutscene. I’ve heard that Half-Life 2 employed a similar technique, but with the visuals in Bioshock, it was impressive. Blood never really bothers me, but I was certainly shocked by the fact that the player could bring their character so close to the scene and still remain undetected.

After watching my friend play through the entire Bioshock demo, I am convinced that perfection is very subjective. Critics have rated this game incredibly high, but I have a hard time believing that everyone would rate it a similar score, at least for its appeal. I have never been drawn to survival horror games like this. Near perfect gaming experiences for me must include lovely worlds like those in Okami and Eternal Sonata. Although I may appreciate the lightning powers, the perfectly rendered water effects, the seamless cutscenes and the atmosphere, I don’t think that I would ever enjoy playing this game. I have seen enough to know what a splicer is and to know that this game is probably very good for its genre, but certainly not a good fit for me.  

Recently, I have discovered that there are two basic types of RPGs: the kind where you have a little group of friends to fight alongside you and the kind where you’re pretty much on your own. When I tell people I love RPGs, I mean that I love RPGs like Final Fantasy where you have those virtual friends. I do not mean that I love RPGs like Oblivion where you pretty much run around on your own and the camera follows the character around as if it’s a third-person shooter.

I had heard that Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic (KOTOR) was a great RPG. I am a fan of Star Wars and many of my nerdiest friends had basically told me that KOTOR was the best Star Wars game ever made. I had the feeling it was the no-friends type of RPG, but so many of my friends recommended it that I felt I should give it a try.

I had purchased the game just after buying my 360, counting on it to be a great experience. One hour into the game, I wondered if I had made an unfortunate mistake. While it was certainly Star Wars, it was feeling less and less like a game I wanted to play. To begin, you can customize your character. I knew very little about the game and didn’t care about character stats and intensive customization. I just wanted to try the game out, so I went with recommended stats and chose the female character that looked the least mannish.

The game began with a stuttering cutscene of a ship under attack that made the game look incredibly dated. I soon gained control of my customized character and had to run around a ship. Finding my way through the ship was easy enough, especially as there was basically only one exit in each area. The battle system felt staged and boring, as characters would attack in turns but there was one attack “mode”. Moving my character while this attack mode was engaged would cancel my actions. So, much like World of Warcraft, I got to sit back and watch my character attack automatically unless I was struck by the sudden desire to use a special attack or a healing item. There seemed to be little thought required here – a stark contrast to the many options allowed just minutes ago when customizing my character.

I continued through the game and ended up in Taris. I ran around, talking to many people. I had a companion who followed me around at this point but he said little and was pracitally useless. I got lost in a circular maze of a bar and had to consult my map (in the menu). After consulting the menu a few times, I grew increasingly frustrated by its complexity. The attempt to visually map things out such as character stats and equipping items in a grid seemed overly complex. There were so many options that I had trouble finding what I wanted. To make things more difficult, this was the first real Xbox game I had played on the 360, so I was continually confused when the game kept asking me to press the black and white buttons (now bumpers in a completely different area of the controller). This was not the game’s fault, but it wore down my patience.

After half an hour of talking to people and exploring the town, I had no idea where to go. Perhaps I am just one of those people who has to have a strategy guide in order to enjoy RPGs. I would like to think that KOTOR is more like an adventure game, so I would not need a guide. Unfortunately, I got stuck shortly after going to the one “event” to which I was invited. It was some sort of Sith party. When I went to the party, I was greeted by the man I had met earlier and then saw a short cutscene where the attendees joked about drinking too much. The cutscene ended and I heard a “clunk” noise. I looked around and everyone at the party was on the floor, unconscious, and no one in the surrounding apartments cared. The one lead I had stopped dead on the floor with the Sith party.

I was frustrated with my first experience of KOTOR. The game seemed burdened by dialogue that continued to refer to at least five people I had never seen or met. I was forced to ask stupid questions because I had so little background and constant remarks like, “You really aren’t from around here, are you?” made me feel even more like an outsider. Perhaps I take such comments too personally.

I wanted so badly for this game to take me away into the Star Wars universe. I really hoped that I could break out of my habit of playing turn-based RPGs with happy parties of friends. I may give KOTOR another shot in the future, but next time, it will probably be with a strategy guide to serve as my faithful companion.  

Out of all the demos I downloaded off Xbox Live the other day, I was most excited to try out two RPGs: Eternal Sonata and Blue Dragon. I had heard a lot about both and they were part of what motivated me to finally buy a 360.

I had already pre-ordered Eternal Sonata so I decided to play it first. I was immediately impressed by the vibrant colors and the richly detailed landscape. This world felt so alive, from the variation in the foliage to the distinct personalities of the NPCs. It had a great soundtrack based on Chopin’s music, which appealed to the classical musician in me. While it certainly has a few flaws, I realized that this just might be the immersive experience that I have been craving.

Eternal Sonata has a fast-paced battle system that feels like a cross between Kingdom Hearts and the traditional turn-based Final Fantasies. Characters’ movements can be controlled during a limited attack time. The position of a character can greatly change their attack and defense. For example, enemies have a harder time defending against attacks when the attacker is behind them. There are also two special attacks that become available depending on if a character is standing in the light or in shadows. I appreciated all this attention to detail. While the battle system did seem to have a high learning curve, at least for a demo, its original approach pulled me into the game immediately.

Like any other game, Eternal Sonata does have some flaws. The characters speak audible lines sometimes, such as when a battle begins. Some of these lines sound really stupid, including a little boy exclaiming, “C’mon! C’mon! C’mon!” I’m hoping that these lines sounded better in Japanese. Also, my QA tester training helped me to find two bugs in the half-hour demo. I was slightly disappointed, considering the obviously high production value of the game, but most commercial games do have bugs. Sometimes these bugs are reported and closed simply because there is no time to change them anymore.

I really enjoyed the Eternal Sonata demo. It had a nice pace and the demo limits felt natural, not confining. From the user-friendly menu to the inviting fantasy world, it seemed like a polished game that will be a lot of fun for me. Eternal Sonata combines two of my favorite genres: music/rhythm games and RPGs. I’m looking forward to buying it.

However, the Blue Dragon demo hardly sold me on the much-hyped RPG. First, I was disgusted by the childish art style and the ridiculous voices. When the opening cutscene began, I felt like I was watching cheap anime in 3D. I understand that Akira Toriyama of Dragon Ball Z was responsible for the character designs, but I am of the belief that some designs just don’t translate as well into HD. I had no problem with Dragon Ball Z designs in 2D, but in 3D they look wrong. It’s simply too perfect and, frankly, a bit frightening to see things like bloated heads, vacant eyes, and giant portly puppies in three realistic dimensions.

I hate to dismiss a game entirely on its artistic style. I have boycotted a couple, like Psychonauts, for this reason, but I wanted to give Blue Dragon a chance. After all, Hironobu Sakaguchi, who directed the first five Final Fantasy games, and famed Final Fantasy composer Nobuo Uematsu were involved. This game must have some redeeming qualities.

I continued past the first cutscene and found myself plagued by laborious tutorial dialogue from frightening giant animals such as the previously mentioned portly puppy. While illustrative screenshots attempted to break up the monotony, there was way too much information to absorb at once. I much prefer in-battle tutorials or other more interactive forms of instruction. I was practically asleep by the time I began the game.

I ran around and fought some enemies, but my entire party attacked with these gigantic genie-like creatures. It was never explained how or why these creatures attacked for us – they could have been anything from alien parasites to manifestations of the warriors’ souls. While it did seem cool, I was left scratching my head and it took my focus away from combat. When my allies needed healing, I explored the magic menus. I was immediately overwhelmed by almost 30 different spells, all at my disposal. Also, I had a large party and it appeared as if only one or two members could actually heal other people and yet they wouldn’t even get a turn in several fights. Desperate to heal my allies, I opened the menu to see if I could heal out of battles.

The menu appeared very industrial and was immediately overwhelming. Compared to the simpler, more friendly menu in Eternal Sonata, this was quite a shock. In a demo, there is no need for hundreds of spells and items. Since the game timer allows one hour to play the game, it is nearly impossible to even cast every spell in the time allotted. While I did find my healing spells within a few minutes, I was deeply disappointed in the overwhelming amount of items and the lack of direction after the hasty, dull tutorial.

I am definitely not pre-ordering Blue Dragon. If the gameplay or story could capture my attention, I would be willing to overlook the ridiculous visuals and childish voices. Unfortunately, my high expectations were met with disappointment in what felt like a hastily assembled demo. I am just glad that I have the Eternal Sonata demo to play, as I would be happy to check it out again.