- Nov 15, 2001
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The good people at Joystiq put together their top 10 games of 2007. Their lists are pretty good(though I'm not sure about #8 on this one...), so let'ssee how you guys feel about it.
Number 10:
[h2]http://www.joystiq.com/2008/01/01/game-of-the-year-10-mass-effect/[/h2]
Number 10:
[h2]http://www.joystiq.com/2008/01/01/game-of-the-year-10-mass-effect/[/h2]
If you've ever borrowed a great novel from a library (ask your parents), you would know that all those reams of text can latch on to your thoughts regardless of the tattered, pig-eared and terrifyingly sticky pages they're printed on. Mass Effect is just such an experience, its story spread across technically dubious and slow-turning sheets filled with text that randomly pops in and out of existence. You also have to read several chapters while standing in the world's slowest elevator, for some reason.
Still, these are complaints that are best gotten over with in the first paragraph and promptly forgotten, for Mass Effect makes its rich story heard well above the incessant clacking of the Xbox 360's exhausted DVD drive. It may seem strange to place emphasis on the massive universe and nuanced characters over the increasingly vague term of "gameplay," but BioWare's craft has masterfully blurred the lines between plot and play. We can't remember the last time we preferred chatting to aliens as opposed to shooting them in... whatever approximates a face.
A laborious inventory system and initially confusing combat certainly detract from the game's (forbidden) planet-hopping journey, but the cinematic ambition on display and tough choices to be made will linger in your memory for much, much longer. In a bountiful year which encouraged us to breathlessly rush from game to epic game, it's remarkable that Mass Effect could make us pause long enough to consider the consequences of our actions.
#9:
QTE. Quick Time Events. It stands proud as one of the most annoying video game design clichés in use today. You might remember them from games like Resident Evil 4 and the original God of War, described by game developers as a device that makes you feel like you're playing a cutscene, as opposed to watching it. It was so cool when we first saw it -- but when every single game ever decided to add QTE, it became less ... welcome.
So, how did God of War II trick us into having so much fun with its QTE-riddled cinematics? Probably because the game remembered exactly what made these sequences fun. There was the all-important feeling of empowerment from these moment, where every button pressed felt like it had consequence. When we cracked Theseus' head open by slamming it into a door over and over again, we felt the same blood thirst that Kratos must have undeniably felt. We weren't pressing buttons simply because the game told us to. Rather, we pressed buttons because it intrinsically made so much sense. We were one with Kratos. RARGH!
Some may argue that God of War II doesn't innovate enough to warrant any GOTY accolades. Hey, it's not like the first one really broke new ground either. (And that didn't stop the original from winning GOTY.) Instead, God of War II so finely executes what has already been done before. Giant boss battles are nothing new to video games, but those found here are exceptionally well placed (and paced!) throughout the game. Even the first level's backdrop is a giant animated statue that you ultimately go sword-to-face with. Each battle is filled with a ferocity, a viciousness that reminds you that these are very powerful gods and demons you're fighting.
God of War II shows that the PS2 is still capable of producing wonderful gaming experiences. It highlights the true value of excellent design over pure technology, and offers so much of that all-important commodity we seek from games: fun.
#8:
The most surprising game of the year doesn't have fancy 3-D graphics. It doesn't require a new generation console and it doesn't involve waggling a fancy motion-sensitive controller. It doesn't involve killing anything (not even in the cutesy, Mario-jumps-on-a-Goomba sense of the word "kill") and it doesn't have any gritty, street-smart characters voiced by today's hottest celebrities. None of that is really surprising in its own right - plenty of casual games fit the same criteria. What's really surprising about Peggle is how insanely, addictively fun it is.
Like the best puzzle games, Peggle can be explained in a single sentence: Bounce balls off pegs; destroy all the orange ones to win. The game doesn't require a lengthy tutorial or instruction booklet, just an intuitive grasp of physics and gravity to plan where your ball will bounce. The instant accessibility is aided by excellent graphic and sound design -- pegs burst in explosions of color and sound, culminating in a level-clearing rendition of Beethoven's Ode to Joy that can't help but bring a smile to even the most cynical gamer's face.
Some might argue that this simplicity never gives way to a deeper strategy -- that the game takes a minute to learn but only two or so minutes to master. These people have probably only played the game for those two or so minutes, though, as the imaginative peg arrangement in the later of the game's 100 or so levels require some incredible planning and imaginative use of special powers (not to mention the 60 or so unlockable "challenge" boards, some of which are nigh impossible). While Peggle beginners might only plan one or two bounces ahead, expert Peggle players, much like chess grandmasters, can generally see the shape of a shot through dozens of bounces. After one particular, eight-hour, late-night session with the game, we could swear we had entered a zen-like state where every slight deflection of the ball seemed pre-ordained (of course, the cold medication running through our veins could have also contributed to this feeling).
If you still don't believe Peggle takes any skill, then we humbly challenge you to an editorial-we-on-one Peggle duel. These duels are where Peggle continues to shine long after the single-player game is done, with new strategies enabling a new level of unpredicatability and human fallibity to come into play. Of course, dueling currently works only on a single computer, so duels with random internet doubters will probably be hard to coordinate. Maybe Peggle 2 will include some sort of Internet play option. PopCap ... you listening?
#7:
Ubisoft's hugely anticipated bump-off sim created quite the controversy, though oddly not for the stylish and quite visceral violence it so gleefully inflicted upon authority figures. Instead, Assassin's Creed (or Assassin's Crud, depending on who you ask) divided critics, with some being utterly engaged by the game's unique setting and others thinking the same environment to be remarkably empty. Count us among the former, as we've yet to see a bigger, more lavishly detailed and immersive world than the one dashed through, clambered up and vaulted over in Assassin's Creed.
The game's greatest design flaw may be that it's a bit too open-ended for its own good, refusing to overtly reward or punish players for behaving in a specific way. If you wish, you can spend a lovely afternoon playing Maniacal Guard Killer's Creed instead, carrying out your missions with all the stealthy maneuvering of a grand piano rolling down an escalator. Would it have been wiser for Ubisoft to beat you over the head every time you set off a medieval alarm and otherwise played the game "wrong?" Perhaps... but isn't the point of open-ended gameplay to let you choose your own path?
In many ways, Assassin's Creed is more of a role-playing game than most of the titles officially labeling themselves as such. When you play as Altair -- really play as him, as an assassin -- and measure failure according to your own actions and not what a Fission Mailed screen tells you, the game's intricate world becomes inescapably engaging. Learn about your target, plan your attack and revel in the absolutely thrilling chase that follows your murderous deed. Though the game's overall structure may seem repetitive in the face of such a believable world, the true magic in Assassin's Creed lies not in what you do, but how you do it.
#6:
Imagine you're on a deserted island. Of course, it's one of those islands with a conveniently laid Ethernet cable that runs from the ocean, up the beach and down a hatch. Inside there's a 'game station' equipped with an enormous HD display, surround sound, a RROD-proof Xbox 360 (among other current gaming systems) and a comfy chair. Whether you've arrived in this fantasy realm by sea, air or warp pipe, you've got one - and only one - game disc from the past year stuffed in your back pocket. What is it?
If you answered "Halo 3," you're correct!
The shared sentiment around Joystiq HQ is that an island getaway is just what we need to get better acquainted with Halo 3. We're familiar with the shooting of the aliens, but aside from this most basic objective (executed with superiority, by the way), Halo 3 remains a potential funbox waiting to be busted open. The reality is, we aren't on an island, and the offerings have been piled so high since late August that Halo 3 was in and out of our 'Box as soon as the campaign was conquered and a few multiplayer matches were logged. We sampled more than we explored the intricate depths of Bungie's last Halo game-until-the-next-one. Still, even a terse study of the game was enough to validate Halo 3 as a shoo-in for one of the ten best games of 2007.
But No. 6? Halo 3 gets docked for being Halo 3, or 'Halo a third time.' Bungie delivered the charm on its first swing, so there's little need for vindication (unless you were offended by Halo 2's cliffhanger). It's unlikely though, that any developer could deliver this 'total package' without having been shackled to the material for nearly a decade. Bungie's confidence in its subject has yielded an exceptionally fine-tuned product peppered with unique, community-building features. Considering the abundance of content - and the freedom to interact with the content in different ways - Halo 3 has a lasting potential that is unparalleled by this year's other releases.
Thanks to Halo 3, "Halo Nation" is now 5 million strong and growing, a clear signal that Wikipedia needs to disambiguate its entry for "Halo effect," appending a new description separate from meanings in psychology and business: A man in a green suit becomes the 21st Century's Skywalker. That's the only Halo effect we know.
#5:
The frustrating thing about trying to write about Call of Duty 4 is that all of the phrases that best describe it have already been applied to and, in turn, drained of their impact by far less deserving games. It's a "non-stop thrill ride," its graphics are "almost photorealistic" and it is, in fact, "so real that you'd almost think you were there." What Call of Duty 4 so authoritatively manages to do is reclaim those action game clichés and, in doing so, infuse them with a new, fresh power.
What Call of Duty 4's single player campaign could best be described as though, is a master's class on making good game design choices. From beginning to end, moments last just as long as they need to, difficulty is perfectly balanced and the action ebbs and flows between full-on chaos and chilling silence. From a pulse-pounding start to the final, desperate ending, it's a meticulously crafted experience. We haven't even made mention of the game's multiplayer yet, which mixes the game's explosive presentation with some RPG fundamentals to predictably addictive results.
Perhaps the most surprising thing about the game is how few actual revolutionary concepts are contained within. It selects existing game design tools, hones them to practical perfection and creates what is, in our opinion, the military shooter against which all others must be judged.
#4:
In the beginning there was Mario 128 and the world was without news. And the Spirit of Mario moved upon the face of galaxies. And Reggie Fils-Aime said, let there be a release date; and there was hype and critical acclaim. And we saw the copies and Toys R Us gift cards, and it was good.
And the Good Egg Galaxy and Flipswitch Galaxy were the first day. And we said, "This control scheme is alright." And we captured stars and struggled with the camera: and it was so. And we called the game fun.
And the Honeyhive Galaxy, Loopdeeloop Galaxy and Bowser Jr.'s Robot Reactor were the second day. And we said, Dear God please do we really have to use faulty controls and race through a crappy Wave Race clone to get one frackin' star? And we persevered through and got the star. And we said the Bee Suit was cute and honey climbing was fun. And the camera decided to change our flight path and we kept falling off the level; and we saw that it was frustrating.
And the entire set of Fountain levels were the third day. And we said, Let Mario learn better momentum so that he might not aimlessly fall off the stage when we clearly told him not to. And Mario said no, and proceeded to fall of anyways. And we said, Let the camera and control issues of yesterday not be a nuisance today. And Mario said "Weee!" and flung himself off a cliff again; and we saw that it was very frustrating.
And two more sets of galaxies were the fourth day. And the remaining galaxies were the fifth day. And we said, maybe we're being harsh because of the overwhelming amount of hype surrounding this game. And Mario said judge not lest Sunshine be judged again. And we laughed because the FLUDD backpack still looks funny. And we noticed that Mario had become another integral part of our lives, and that Galaxy had become a time sink for our social life; and we saw that it was still frustrating but also addictive.
And backtracking to find the missing stars was the sixth day. And we said to Hell with some of these one-star, minigame-fueled galaxies. And yet we kept playing them anyways; and we saw that it was an addiction and that it was fun.
And on the seventh day we ended that which we had played. And we blessed the seventh day, and remembered it, for it was the day in which we had seen the fun. And despite its imperfections, we realized it was a game worthy of the heralded Mario legacy. And, finally, we saw that it was good.
(Oh, you find splicing Mario and Genesis sacrilegious? Consider how we felt when Sonic ended up on a Nintendo platform.)
#3:
These past few years have seen a radical improvement in the production values of video games. Much to the delight of the narratologist, so called "AAA titles" have adopted the cinematic qualities of a Hollywood blockbuster. More and more celebrities are showing an interest in voice acting for games. Big budgets are blown on having the best visual effects on the block. Writers have learned how to create more convincing, likable protagonists and richer, more momentous story arcs. These past 365 days have seen some of the most well-made games in the history of the industry, and some of the most immersive, soul-stirring stories we've ever experienced.
But can you play Assassin's Creed with a Stratocaster? Can you drum your way through Mass Effect? While playing God of War II, do you ever get to play The Sweet's "Ballroom Blitz"? No, we're fairly sure you do not (though that would be awesome).
Video games are thought of as more than toys nowadays -- a distinction that gamers and game developers should be proud of. However, amidst the recent sea of epics and masterpieces, we can't forget that video games are tools for entertainment -- and no game released this year provided more entertainment for us than Rock Band.
If you've ever closed your eyes while listening to a song, and imagined that you were on stage, playing in front of a full-to-brim Madison Square Garden, Harmonix has created a channel for you to bring that daydream to fruition. You're always aware you aren't playing real music, but it makes no difference. Drums are being hit, and guitars are being strummed -- it doesn't matter that they're made of plastic. The illusion of musical interaction is there, and is stronger than any other rhythm game that came before.
To look around the room and realize that three of your friends are under the same spell is a pretty incredible moment. It would be futile for us to try to fully describe the bonding experience that Rock Band provides. We can't explain the intricate system of responsibilities and accountabilities band mates begin to develop between one another due to Harmonix's cleverly designed gameplay, nor can we describe the shared sense of accomplishment you get when you perform a song well.
To witness a group of grown men and women erupting in jubilation after pulling out the fifth star on "Foreplay/Long Time" on the Big Rock Ending would seem like madness to the untrained eye. But this is what Rock Band does to groups of people who let the game transport them into their own musical fantasies. In a few posts this year, we jokingly referred to Rock Band as "Harmonix's rock star simulator." Now that we have the game in our hot little hands, and know well its capacity to capture our imagination, we humbly retract our sardonic tone.
#2:
Even without a game set inside its beautiful - and totally unnerving - halls, the underwater city of Rapture alone would almost be enough to earn a spot on our list. The design itself told the story of a failed utopia, an underwater art-deco Eden gone sour. The pools of water and rusted metal juxtaposed with the bright neon signs and period music immediately set the tone and helped deliver one of the most memorable environments in video games or, dare we say, any entertainment field.
But of course, it wasn't just Rapture and the story of Andrew Ryan's failed utopia: it was BioShock, the spiritual successor to the System Shock series, and upon its late summer release, it held us, and the entire gaming world, in ... well, rapture.
And what a game! We think back to the epic battles with the gargantuan, golem-like Big Daddys and how often we stood motionless, waiting for the sometimes gentle caretakers to pass by peacefully. And let's not forget about their wards, the Little Sisters. When it was time to fight, upon winning you're presented with the macabre and more than a little unnerving choice of whether or not to kill a little girl. Is this choice essentially meaningless? Is every Little Sister an identical model and voice, removing much of their humanity and in turn the difficulty of your decision? Regrettably, the answers are "yes" and "yes".
Though we may not remember each and every Little Sister we saved, we do remember that one. And that's far more than most video games allow.
And Joystiq's number 1 game of 2007 is....
Out of all the superb titles released in 2007, Portal most effortlessly takes the cake. The true star of The Orange Box saw a talented team from DigiPen snatched up by Valve and ultimately transformed from students into teachers. Gamers and designers alike must play Portal, not only because it's so sublimely designed from start to gripping finish, but because there's so much to learn from it.
The game is phenomenal in every sense of the word, its deviously delirious guide and antagonist, GlaDOS, already running rampant online as a fully fledged and infinitely quotable meme. It certainly speaks volumes of its witty writing when the game's other widely recognized star is nothing more than a vaguely endearing block. The intelligence isn't merely confined to the game's dialogue either -- it permeates every aspect of Portal's "Aha!" puzzles and perfectly paced progression. There is no filler here.
When the seemingly unconnected room-based challenges give way to a daring escape attempt and a climactic showdown, the game's genius is not only revealed, but heard in the form of Jonathan Coulton's "Still Alive" ending song. Inescapably catchy and completely cognizant of its audience, it marks the perfect conclusion to this year's smartest and most focused game.
Please accept our cake, Portal, but for the good of all of us, don't eat it! We don't want you getting fat like all those other games.
I was pleasantly suprised to see Portal at the top spot. If you haven't had the chance to play Portal, then you are definitely missing out on somethingspecial.
