After a weekend of football and board games, I'm finding that video games have more in common with the former.
After settling into the competitive, online playing field of some games, I find all other functions of the game superfluous, especially single player mode.
The player is given a power to behave like one would in an exaggerated 1970s cop show. That's the implied memories that that era imbued on culture in our collective memory, a cultural meme that exists in both the real-life player’s mind and evidentially in the mind of the fictional John Tanner.
Batman: Arkham City is so much bigger than the Asylum, but is that a good thing?
If I'm looking at a mini-map instead of the world around me, it's not actually helping.
Zelda could not succeed as a business venture if it were to change too radically. But should art evolve beyond business concerns?
To tap the potential that historical systems have to offer, we must be willing to step on fragile ground.
Skyrim most often seems to me like a fantasy veneer spread over the most boring occupation that I can think of, managing and prioritizing tasks at an office.
Video games reflect themes and skills found in boys’ styles of play as children, and any introduction of qualities that are different from that (especially if tagged as feminine) are cast out as inferior “casual” games.
The Moving Pixels podcast talks about what the open world genre means to the last decade in gaming and what kinds of worlds most compel players to explore them.