Indigo Prophecy and the Rule of Choice

While many video games may claim to be all free-roaming and unlimited in their potential, every game in existence still finds itself constrained by rules. And as it may be simple and trite for video games to claim they exist in a sandbox environment where anything is possible, they are lying, as by that very term they are limiting themselves to a certain kind of gameplay environment. In a sense, it is impossible to have a game where anything is possible, that would be called that game of life, and trust me, that's not very fun.

Rules are put in place for several reasons, and as Nielsen, Smith, and Tosca define it, all games have them to "determine what you can and cannot do, and which actions or events increase or decrease the player's score." While they assess that rules are there for constraint and to limit our actions, they are also to control our gameplay and generate expected outcomes. Essentially, rules decide and determine what game we play.

Rules exist in two solid types: we have "Ludus" rules, which are the conditions to how the player wins, and the "paidia" rules, which are procedural stuff, meaning that they're the rules we don't really think about but are always present.

For example, if we were playing, say Indigo Prophecy, we would expect there to be certain "Paidia" rules, as we are playing a point and click game. We would expect that to advance the game we would need to engage nonplayers in dialogue of our choosing. We would also expect to play puzzles to advance.

Also with this game they challenge the realm of point and click as they incorporate elements of "action sequences", where the player plays virtually "Simon Says" by tapping corresponding buttons with sections on the screen. If they tap these in the correct order, the action sequence continues, if they do not, they fail and the sequence is reset and one life point is lost.


What's interesting is that with Indigo Prophecy the idea of "Ludus" rules becomes a blurred subject, like trying to see a polar bear eating ice cream in the snow (and if anyone knows what cartoon show that references they get a free cookie, good luck Kim). While not all game theorists call this "ludus" rules, are games have rules that determine how a player wins. However, the very concept of Indigo prophecy underlies this idea, as the game tries to turn itself into an "interactive movie". There is no correct way to play the game, as your actions and choices determine how the game concludes (there are several different story paths to follow, each which lead back to one of three very different endings).

Also, it's a very controlled world, you only go where the game wants you to go. Oh? You wanna go get a burger at McDonalds? Too bad, the game designers want you to go visit the crazy lady who can read minds. You want to go flirt and party? Too bad, your character's being hunted by the police and he's trying to mend things up with his ex-girlfriend. You want to fight people with crazy martial arts outta a John Woo movie? Oh yeah, I guess you can do that, the game does want you to do that one eventually.


I guess one way to think about the "winning" or "losing" elements is that if you fail to complete an action sequence correctly, you're forced to redo it until you fail entirely. You lose the action sequence, yet the game continues. Also, there is the fact that by asking certain questions in dialogue sequences you reveal new information that enables you to go deeper into the game. However, that's not to say this is a "losing point", as its kind of fun to have your characters play dumb and have no clue what their doing or what's going on.

Or there is the fact that you have a "mental health" you have to keep track of. If you let your character to get "depressed" or "stressed" it causes them to go insane, which causes you to go back to a point and redo a level. So in that sense there is a winning-losing degree to the game. Basically, keep your player sane is the lesser here.

I guess the lesson learned here is that even this game is controlled. There's no such thing as a uncontrolled rule-less game. That would be Calvinball, and we all know how fun that was (if you've never read Calvin and Hobbes, its a terrible time, and if you have not Calvin and Hobbes, you're a pathetic lowlife who needs to get out of his mom's basement).


Games are fun and possible because of rules, by controlling gameplay and options you dictate the environment the player is to expect. Indigo Prophecy is a perfect example of this, as its a clear cut case of mashing a P&C adventure and an interactive movie. We want games to tell us how to have fun, we want games to tell us that we're winning or losing. Without this drive or control, games cannot be successful. Besides, as much as you may want that burger, you'd much rather go see the old crazy lady.

Indigo Prophecy: Or How Killing A Stranger can Reveal your Inner-Neo

Somewhere sometime after Myst was released and everyone realized that fps' were the way to go with gameplay the "Point and Click" Adventure genre started to slowly die. It wasn't to say the entire genre had was gone, there were still several valid entry's into the genre, including Funcom's The Longest Journey, LucasArt's Monkey Island Series, and The Adventure Company's Syberia. However, for the most part, the games were all very similar, with similar gameplay, similar puzzles, and ultimately they left the player feeling more insulted than satisfied.
While I won't go so far to say that Quantic Dream's Indigo Prophecy (known as Fahrenheit to you European folk) saved the P&C Adventure genre. Not by a long shot. However, it came closer to doing something different with it and seeing what happens when you morph the P&C and the longdead Interactive Movie genre.

The game, Quantic Dream's second entry into the business (their third, Heavy Rain: The Origami Killer, is hopefully hitting the PS3 this 4th quarter) and they played around a lot with both narrative and character. The game was far from perfect, especially considering its graphics were on par with a PS1 console when it was released for the PS2. Not that I'm complaining, as the game did a lot of things right, and what it does in particular that leaves the pasta sticking to the wall is its use of character.

Now I know there are those out there that will say, "but Joey C, what about Final Fantasy Eternal Sonata, and Legacy of Kain?" Well yes, fellow amateur, of course those did a lot for plot and character (and kudos to FF8 for actually having a dance sequence in the game), but there was something about playing Indigo Prophecy that felt that you were more playing a movie than playing a game.

What's perhaps the most interesting factor about Indigo Prophecy is its lack of archetypes. With the exception of antagonist and protagonist, and the occasional guardian, the game is almost completely devoid of them. Instead, the people at Quantic Dream decided to focus on creating realistic characters. Even after one of the games protagonists, Lucas Kane, assumes the role of the hero, he retains several qualities that make him realistic. While he may be the hero, he's not as cliched as superman and has many flaws and has a constant inner struggle as the world behind him falls apart.


The game opens with a cinematic with its protagonist, Lucas Kane, in a trance in a shady bathroom. Moments later, while still in this trance, he attacks another man in the bathroom and brutally murders him. After he snaps out of the trance, the game begins with you covered in blood, a body on the floor, and a cop approaching the bathroom. After your escape, you suddenly change roles and you find yourself in the positions of Carla and Tyler, two homicide detectives assigned to the case. This in it of itself is awkward, as the game continues with you trading protagonists, leading you into a cat and mouse game where your hunting yourself. This gets even more uncomfortable when you interrogate yourself in one scene. What's interesting is that you'd think these cops would slip into stereotype. However, they remain as human as Lucas. They may not be tortured by inner demons and discover they have certain inhuman abilities such as Lucas, but they are in a constant struggle to both work the case and deal with their personal troubles at home.

What's powerful about this is Quantic Dream creates an interesting character triangle. While the player is attached to Lucas Kane, sympathizing with him and wanting to help, they also bond with Carla and Tyler, as they are troubled as well. The question soon becomes, who will you help more?

That's not to say the game is not without its character types: the antagonist, the all power "Oracle", who for most of the game remains hidden in a black cloak, manipulating all around him as if he were some sort of puppet master. The trickster, played by an old woman who can read the future. However, the guardians, those who might simply play the guys you kill in a fps are almost completely devoid of this exception for a couple instances. For the most part you play the guardians, as you are the cops hot on Lucas' feet.

Something which I haven't found terribly common in video games is physical character development. One really outlandish example (from a movie) is Die Hard, by the end of every movie there is always physical development as John McClane goes from clean-shaven and well groomed to torn-up open shirt, somewhat grizzled, and covered in blood. While that's not necessarily character development, you'd think the guy who develop some how from that sort of physical transformation. What's different about Indigo Prophecy is the appearance of Lucas Kane, as he begins to understand his role in the world as well as discover the powers he possesses, his body under goes a physical transformation. He develops quicker reflexives, he appears to be more fit. Even his face; it appears longer, more gaunt, he's covered in facial hair and he almost resembles that of Neo at the end of the first Matrix movie. Furthermore, the game's interactions cause his "mental health" meter to change.

In the beginning he is depressed and cannot control himself. At the end, depending on the choices that you make, he may be more confident, more defiant, and more interested in protecting others than saving his own skin. It's a difficult task to illustrate character development in a video game. Marcus Fenix, as much as he's powerful and awesome, he does not follow the character arch and develop. Neither does Master Chief for that matter. He merely exists and is in constant "hero" mode. Something that should be remembered, most often in video games, if character development occurs, it happens during cutscenes. With Indigo Prophecy, the decisions you make cause your characters to change.

So does it stick? Hell yes, as far as character is concerned the game sticks to the wall for a solid amount of time. Now if I throw in graphics and some aspect of gameplay, it may slide a little bit. However, as far as the story and character is concerned, Indigo Prophecy can stick to the wall as long as it likes, and decide for itself when it wants to come down. games,

Bioshock: Or How Your Daddy will Beat You for Killing your Sister

I'm going into this knowing that there aren't a lot of things that I can say are wrong about Bioshock. Its been out for quite a bit of time and has been reviewed by everyone and their mothers and yet it seems that the game is quite close to perfect. Perfect, you say? Perhaps not quite perfect, but the game is without a doubt very, very good.

I'd like to give you a rundown of the story but I think if I did that I would take away from the game itself. So I'll just that in this first person shooter sci-fi/horror/period game you play as Jack, the lone survivor of a plane crash who seeks refuge in an underwater city called Rapture only to discover that Rapture has been transformed into the darkest corner of hell filled with mutant beings and mechanical machines. You're also in contact with a man named Atlas who's guiding you through this dystopian city ... and that's all I'll say because I don't want to spoil it for the few living under a rock who haven't played.

I'll just add that its set in the 1960's and filled with haunting decorum and music from the 1930's so its pretty on the eyes and ears. I may take back that pretty on the eyes because this game goes on overload with the blood so perhaps if your a little sadistic you'll still call this game pretty.

If you haven't noticed already I'm saying little about the plot while hyping it up at the same time. That's because, without a doubt, the plot makes this game. There are very few fps's that can claim to have plot as part of the reason why you keep going. Halo? No, you keep going because you can kill everything because unless you follow that series religiously the plot is a little less than like walking through muddy quicksand. The plot of Bioshock is disturbingly intriguing, as you're thrown into a world where you know absolutely nothing and slowly, through encounters with demented villains, audio recordings, and contact with the city's creator Andrew Ryan, you begin to unravel the mystery of what happened to this city, what tore it apart, and what deep seeded connection you actually share with Rapture. That's all I'm going to say about the story. It's one of the first games where the player actually wants to listen to the four minute long audio recording. And then will listen to fifty more of a similar length because they want to know what happened here.

Sure there's the shooter part of the game, but that's pretty standard. You have your various weapons which you use in your right hand, leaving your left hand open for plasmids (cough, magic powers) where you can unleash fire, ice, insects, telekinesis, and a menagerie of other weapons. The rpg elements of the game, where you can a weapon more powerful and choose between saving "Little Sisters" (path of good) or harvesting them (path of evil) are interesting but are what they are, which are rpg elements.

I won't go so far as to say that this noodle sticks to the wall for forever, but it sticks for a pretty damn long time. The game, while not scary, is still very jumpy, and while I haven't even brought it up, the gameplay is still quite fun (though it is still what a shooter is, which is going from room to room and killing obstacles that get in your way). All around its a very impressive game, but what makes it so strong, and game makers should take note here, is its story. Its inventive, original, clever, and intriguing.

There's about a million different elements that I failed to mention. For instance, the Big Daddy's, which are mechanized beings which protect the Little Sisters, who carry the Adam....but by now you've probably played the game and know all of that. If you haven't, what rock have you been living under?

Mirrors Edge: Or How to Fall a Thousand Times to Your Death

Oh what can I say about Mirror's Edge that hasn't already been said? Everyone remembers when a demo and gameplay trailer popped up on xbox live and people began to tilt their heads like confused little puppies all asking the same question: What's the catch?

The trailer and demo, more than anything else, were different. It placed you in a shiny world alive with the colors white and red gleaming from all angles. Not that I mind the dreary colors of Gears of War, Bioshock, or Dead Space, but having to don shades to play Mirror's Edge is not a bad change of pace. Of course, once I played the game I realized how quickly wrong I was. However, that's not to say I was completely disappointed.

Mirror's Edge puts you in the red running shoes of Faith, your Asian female protagonist. She delivers packages for the good people the government has wrongly thrown in jail. And apparently she has to deliver these packages via roof tops as the city is "highly monitored" by these evil corporations. However, who these people are or what is being delivered is never really explained, and this plot piece is quickly tossed aside as Faith gets caught up in a conspiracy involving her cop sister, Hope - er, Kate, a Wrestler running for mayor, double crosses by your fellow agency members, and about a million cops that have nothing better to do than chase you on rooftops with choppers in pursuit.

So ya, the plot isn't really there. At all. When you really get into it, its about as contrived a Steven Seagal movie. Actually that may be giving it too much credit, but still we don't watch those for the plot. Where the plot of Mirror's Edge may be contrived, the gameplay is what we came for.

While there is a terribly steep learning curve, once you've gotten a handle on it Mirror's Edge becomes a virtual parkour, or free-running, experience. It's different, especially since they take advantage of the first person shooter view-point in a way that, if you wanted, you don't have to fire a single weapon. However, the first person, while different, is also its crutch, as it limits your camera view to literally what you can see with your eyes. You'll spend several hours trying to jump to various buildings, only to fall several thousand feet to your death. Then you'll do it again. And again, and again.

Ironically, this is the most brilliant aspect of the game. As you control all your characters' movement - arms, legs, head - it comes oddly close to replicating a real experience (with the exception being that if this were real you probably would have died on your first plummet back down to earth).

So does it stick? Its my first analysis and I'd like to be nice. But I'd have to say that the game sticks, then slowly falls, like missing a ledge and plummeting to its death for the umpteenth time.

Yet it should be noted that the game is highly original. It took the first person p.o.v. and did something holistically unique with it. In that sense it has something in common with Portal, it took a very worn game perspective and gave it a fresh dress to put on. However, in Mirror's Edge's case, the dress came with some holes. That's not to rule it out, their use of the first person should be remembered. If we were to take this and apply it to a first person shooter, where you had to make active use of your whole body while engaging in combat, we may create a game with a steeper learning curve, yet with a more, oddly realistic, perspective. Future developers should take note, as the experiment known as Mirror's Edge should not be looked at as failure, but rather a first trial, where many more are needed to perfect this new style of game play and presentation.