Braid Review weiveR diarB

*This review contains some spoilers*

I remember when my dad mentioned Braid about a month ago. Thanks to NPR's occasional video games coverage, my dad can surprise me every now and then with gaming news of some sort. This time, he had heard of a video game that "is supposed to be about life and choices" as he put it. I quickly explained that that Braid wasn't "about life" and that actuality, it was just a puzzle game that has ignited the untrained and ill-equipped artsy/pretentious video game writers to make claims that the game is some bold new step in game design doing things that other games haven't quite done before. I smoothly transitioned the conversation about the art of design and mechanics and how all games can be read making them seem to be about almost anything. Using Tetris, Super Mario Brothers, and Wii Sports (games my father has experience with) I debunked the notion. Then my father asked me if I had played Braid yet. I hadn't.

At that point, I had researched the game only briefly, which I felt was enough to make the comments I did. I wasn't talking about Braid so much as the misguided reception and the state of the video games industry's more scholarly pursuits that restlessly fidget in a state of arrested development. Sill, I hadn't played Braid, a fact I then made a point of correcting. Regardless of what others have said about the game, being a fan of puzzle games, I wanted to experience Braid for myself and maybe even write something about it.

The interesting part of Braid, one might say, is that the game gives the player the mechanic of REWIND TIME without much restraint. All mistakes can be reversed, and all starting points can be revisited. This ability gives the player a certain freedom to experiment freely and in every direction into the world of Braid. Such a mechanic when viewed from the player's perspective as he/she collects memories of their experience playing the game is similar to the "many-worlds interpretation" of quantum mechanics. The "you" that you think of yourself as, like the Mario in the video, will stretch out like fingers touching the world and gaining knowledge only to come back to where you started.

Putting the question of what Braid is "about" to the side, it's easy to understand what Braid "does." Being a member of the puzzle genre, Braid equips the player with a handful of mechanics and sets up stages or areas that challenge the player to use these mechanics in specific ways. Though many have folded at solving some of Braid's more difficult puzzles, I found the game to be short with a deliciously sweet balance of content. Every puzzle requires a unique use and combination of player mechanics. Better yet, because the vast majority of challenges are so well designed, they are all the easier to solve. The reason for this is because the challenges in a puzzle game designed around the specific use of a mechanic or combination of mechanics, the number of possible ways to solve such a puzzle is reduced to a few solutions. By reverse engineering the end of the puzzle, and being aware of all the ways you can't approach solving the puzzle from the start, the solutions then become obvious, at least for a seasoned puzzle veteran. All in all, the tighter a puzzle game is designed, the easier it is to solve.

Starting with a basic set of platforming mechanics (JUMP, CLIMB, MOVE) Tim (the main character in Braid) can move through the 2D world. All the puzzles in world 2 are designed to get the player accustomed to these mechanics. With each subsequent world, a new mechanic is either added or required for solving the puzzles thus organizing each world by theme. This approach to level variability is similar to Super Mario Bros. 3 or Super Mario Galaxy where each world has a theme with new elements introduced into the levels as needed to accentuate the themes. While this approach worked great for Mario, in some ways, it limited the range of design for Braid's puzzles.

Though Blow has expressed that he intentionally designed each world in Braid to be distinct and separate both in the narrative shorts that precede each world as well as the themes and required mechanics, I was somewhat disappointed that the final stage didn't combine all of the game's previous mechanics and concepts into one final super puzzle. Instead, powers are sort of stripped away covertly between worlds. Fortunately, the last stage is quite genius. Though it's not very challenging compared to some of the game's more difficult puzzles and it's not quite folded level design, time and perspective are used most effectively here. The shocking twist not only takes way Tim's ability to correct mistakes by reversing time, but it also shows how Tim's desire may have clouded his perspective on things.

Examples of the "worst" puzzles in Braid.

• World 2. manipulating the painting (skip to 8:00). The mechanic of manipulating the painting in the puzzle-piece-assembly mode so that it interacts with the normal game world is unprecedented and functionally hidden. The thought process needed realize this mechanic naturally (without being explicitly told) requires a case where the puzzle pieces exhibit physical properties on the elements in the game world. Also, indicating that the bridge like section on the puzzle piece interacts differently than the other forms/objects depicted in the puzzle pieces would require another case. Furthermore, the issues of this puzzle are made worse due to the obfuscation of the fine details that visually links the bridge puzzle piece to the game world platform on SDTVs. Lastly, this puzzle requires the player to reenter the game world to solve after running through the world and collecting the necessary puzzle pieces.
• World.3 the last puzzle. (skip to 9:18) To solve this puzzle, players have to leave the "puzzle area" and continue moving into the next area. Doing this reveals the missing element needed to solve the puzzle that was previously hidden off screen. Obscuring important information required for solving the puzzle off screen in this way is functionally like hiding a key in your pocket and telling your friend to keep looking around the room for it. Basically the player must "give up" or resolve that they don't have the ability to solve the puzzle to move on. Ultimately, the criticism raised against this puzzle isn't even that bad, which speaks to the quality design of the rest of the game's puzzles.
  

Looking at the other side of things, at their finest, the best Braid puzzles (basically every puzzle in world 4,5, and 6) represent a high level of design creating layered challenges through simple mechanics that come together elegantly like a Bach Fugue (skip to 1:30) or Bach Invention. It's counterpoint. It's classical game design. It's wonderful, and I simply can't get enough of it. If you'll listen to either of the classical pieces I linked to, you'll hear that the melody is started in one hand and then repeated with the next. The layering of the same relatively simple melody creates a layered sense of time that is always chasing after and running from itself. Like echoes through time, listening to these pieces carefully reveals moments where the layers comment on each other when heard simultaneously. Some bits of this conversation sound odd. Some out of place. Some pleasant. While others exist in a mood so difficult to place that to hear it merely feels like a transition between the familiar. This quality exists in many Classical piano pieces, and many Classically designed video games, like Braid.

In Braid, like in Super Mario Brothers, contrary motion exist between Tim, the player character, moving through a level ultimately to the right, the enemies generally attacking Tim/moving to the left, and the level with which acts on them both by pulling everything down and occasionally into hazards. But unlike in Super Mario Brothers, the goal in a given Braid level is to solve the challenges and collect the puzzle pieces. Because the challenges are mostly created by manipulating space-time in some way, Tim's contrary motion to the right is almost entirely diminished. Instead, space-time becomes a direction of motion in itself.

Though the enemies don't have much interplay and the platforming isn't much, everything yields to the affects of time. Everything, that is, except those elements in the game that aren't affected by the REWIND TIME mechanic. Functionally, elements that aren't affected by rewinding time are still affected by it through relative motion. In other words, if everything in the world moves to the left but a single platform, then relatively speaking, it's like the platform simply moved to the right. Also functionally speaking, whenever there's an element in a level that isn't affected by time in this way, the REWIND TIME mechanic sort of transforms into a mechanic that manipulates space and not time. I'll just leave that thought at that.

Trying to articulate in words what Braid is about is more complicated than it may seem. It's not because the game is complex or difficult. Puzzles games are naturally focused on mechanics and smoothly guiding the player into understanding how these mechanics layer together. One of the reasons why, I think, we struggle within the video gaming industry to express what a game is about is because our public education system has taught us through writing book reports and the like that coming up with what we think a work is "about" means looking for "hidden meanings." Unfortunately, many of still don't realize that the true meaning in a work isn't really hidden at all. The evidence is right there on the screen, in the film, on the canvas, in the text, and in Braid's case in the mechanics and the form of the game.

Braid is a puzzle game with platforming elements. Alongside the gameplay, Blow has very carefully implemented visual art that resembles classical paintings, music that does the same, and a series of colorful text based vignettes that thematically seek to match the gameplay of each world on a conceptual level. The text, which I feel is a misuse of the video game medium, was part of Blow's original conception of Braid. Though I don't care for the writing style in these texts, and the "next-gen text" was almost too small and blurry for me to read on my SDTV (like in Bionic Commando Rearmed), I found the conceptual parallels enchanting.

Blow wanted these two mediums to sit side by side so that they have the opportunity to mingle in the player's mind, and he succeeded in his attempt (at least for this critical-gamer). But I can't forgive the text. Perhaps Blow should have made each block shorter. Miyamoto has be very careful when designing the text section in the Zelda series. He understands the importance of interactivity in a video game and ensures that each text bock is short so that the action of pressing a button to advance through the text keeps the player somewhat engaged. Better yet for Braid, I feel that the text should have been delivered via a narrative voice that plays as the player moves through each world. This approach would give Braid more of a storybook and keep the player engaged in the core interactive gaming experience while making it easy for the player to experience the information in the text without misusing the medium.

Such is Braid. The discourse that has sprung up around this game reminds me of the Discourse of BioShock. So many people have attempted to say something intelligent and meaningful about the game. So many people have tried to talk art and make defenses for one thing or another using Braid. And I've found that most of these people have missed the mark. The real art that's true to the video game medium is in the gameplay and counterpoint design of Braid. The internal dialog that the player has when solving a puzzle is what the game is about. What may be even more profound is how the concepts of manipulating time and space can so easily related to our everyday lives. Those gamers who look up how to solve a puzzle in Braid are only cheating them selves. Such is the drawback of puzzle games. Once you're told how to solve a puzzle, the internal dialog is stilted, stunted, even truncated. This is one aspect of the game that the REWIND TIME mechanic can't fix.

In my conversation with my father, I couldn't get into specifics about Braid's content. Now that I've played the game, if I could go back to that conversation, I don't think I would change a thing. It's perhaps too difficult and too personal to try and communicate my internal dialog from playing Braid to those who haven't experienced it for themselves. It turns out, like for Tim, there are some things that time can't touch.

Boktai Review: Fools and Stupids See the Light

Today marks the beginning of R&R week: Review & Repair. On the agenda I have Boktai, Bionic Commando Rearmed, Everyday Shooter, Sonic (2D platformers), and if I'm lucky Braid and Super Princess Peach.

Since last November when I started the Critical-Gaming blog, I've critiqued other reviews, developed a body of language to communicate the intricate inter workings video games, and written a few reviews to demonstrate.

Now that the foundation has been set, I can exercise a bit more creative writing liberty. After all, creative writing is my specialty. Using this new style, each review will be focused in a way that communicates the various elements of design along with my personal experience/thoughts of the game. Here's the catch. The style and themes that I choose to structure the review will also reflect the mechanics, functions, ideas, and/or themes of the game in some way. Sound intense? Don't worry. Just sit back and read carefully and lightly. If you're lost, by the end I'm sure you'll come out of the darkness.

Fools and Stupids See the Light

STORY

It wasn't until about the end of the game when I realized what was going on. Boktai is a game that's shrouded in twisted mystery. I remember beginning my adventure on Earth, yet for the past few hours, I've been in running around aboard a mauve space station silently orbiting my home. I recalled how quickly and unknowingly I made the jump from my simple, home grown, earthly ambitions to lifelessly floating out in space just going through the motions fighting any manner of man, beast, or undead that I can shove into a coffin, pile up, and drive to victory. The funny part of it all isn't how my evil twin brother who descends from a source that's not exactly my mother has been stringing me along "using" me to defeat his enemies so he can free him self from the Moon Queen's control only to later join my side in defeating her. The funny part is, I saw it all coming.

Kojima isn't much of a story teller. By ignoring one of the most effective tenets of written story telling "show don't tell" and relying on unnatural dialog to communicate the overly complex, muddled mush of a story line to the player, Kojima has casted yet another opportunity for a true spark of ingenuity into the forever depths of obscurity and the forgotten.

PUZZLES

In the grand scheme of Boktai puzzles, there are only a handful that cleverly utilize the manipulation of light and shade as the pivotal element. There may be even less that use the real time clock creatively. When playing such puzzles, I held a glimmer of hope for the rest of the game. If half the puzzles in Boktai used light and time instead of just the few, I would have more glowing remarks to give. Unfortunately, most of the puzzles are rustic push block/switch puzzles. As annoying as these puzzles are, there are a few that have nothing to do with the world of Boktai at all.

Like a nightmare, imagine stepping into a room only to have the door slam shut behind you. Though not a word is uttered, you can't help but think that you're in a "trap." In front of you is a math problem the likes of which you haven't seen in many years. Numbers, different operators, and equal signs are strewn about set up in such a way that beckons your assistance. All of a sudden, you're in school again trying to finishing a math test. Your heart sinks. You were just enjoying recess and now you're stuck with a math problem you can't solve. When you go up to the teacher for assistnace she subtly hints that you're looking at the problem wrong. And after a few more tries fiddling with it, you ask again. This time, you're told you're "stupid." This is what some of the puzzles in Boktai are like right down to being called stupid.

Perhaps what's worse of all about the puzzle design is, unlike Zelda/Mario/Metroid/Pokemon and just about any game that takes its design seriously, you can easily trap yourself trying to solve a puzzle in Boktai. Not to worry. Since the beginning of the game, players are supplied with a "Fool's card" that resets any room that a player may be stuck in. This deconstructive little card not only breaks the organic flow of the game, but the function of the card doubles as a "get out of jail (danger) free card." Instead of designing a tighter game, Konami took the easy way out.

THE MENU

It wouldn't be a Kojima game if there wasn't a heavy use of the game menu that borders on abuse. The menu in Boktai is used to customize the solar gun, examine the map, or use an item. With every use of the menu, the game is paused putting abrupt breaks in the flow of the gameplay. If you're about to die, just hit pause and gobble down as much life/solar energy restoring fruit as you want. With so many healing items and such an effective healing method, the gameplay can easily deconstruct into repeated reckless attacks and menu based healing. Such a strategy is functionally analogous to the attack-attack-heal strategy in many RPGs. Needless to say, by attack-attack-healing, the gameplay doesn't become more engaging. In fact, the menu system in Boktai is reductive and seeks to deconstruct the core design. The silver lining with all of this menu abuse is it's all optional.

ACTION COMBAT

MOVE. SHOOT. FLATTEN. TAP. Boktai contains all the mechanics of an stealth/shooting game. Fortunately, it does a few things correctly. Not being able to move and shoot focuses the action so that it can exist in a smaller space, which is ideal for the GBA screen size. Also, players can only fire in 8 directions, which requires more careful aim when hitting far away targets. The long range shots are the least effective at killing while the close range spread deals the most damage. Having to move in close to enemies to effectively kill them in a shooting game increases the tension of combat. When all of these design elements come together, the combat reminded me of fighting in a top down Zelda game like A Link to the Past.

Botkai was hatched from Kojima's mind and brought to life under his heated gaze. In true Metal Gear fashion, players don't have to kill any of the enemies. From the game's outset, I was cautioned against "unnecessary killing." By TAPing to creating distractions, FLATTENing to silence my footsteps and to squeeze around enemies, and by SHOOTing my foes in the back I had all the abilities I needed to stun and stealth my way through the game without taking a life. The problem is, this isn't Metal Gear, and I'm not pitted against other humans. I'm fighting the undead, which puts the whole "killing" concept in a dimly lit gray area. It also doesn’t help that most of the enemies in the game are "immortals" that regenerate after being "killed."

I realized at some point, that stealthing around isn't engaging enough to hold my attention for the duration of the game. When trying to play "Kojima's way," I have to do a lot of searching the area using the LOOK mechanic, a lot of waiting for enemies to turn their backs, a lot of wall TAPing to create distractions, and a lot of avoiding engagement. Doing this opens of the game to redundancy and static space. It would be different using such stealth tactics was the best way avoid taking damage, to conserve solar energy, or even to access special areas. But, the way Boktai is designed, conserving recourses isn't vital because there's no problem a few items can't fix, and there are no areas that require stealth to access. In the end, using stealth is simply the slow way to play Boktai.

LEVEL DESIGN

The overworld in Boktai must be some kind of joke or failed attempt at a Zelda like overworld. Not only is there nothing to do of consequence on the overworld except walk in an almost straight line to the next dungeon or mini dungeon, but the different areas are abruptly patched together like a quilt instead of organically blending form one to another. One moment, I'm standing in a graveyard. The next step, I'm in a forest.

What's worse is the whole game is designed as if it has been cut out of a mold using a large isometric chisel. Though the blocky look and feel works for some of the buildings, the style all becomes stale in how it limits how the player's possible paths through the level and how forced and inorganic it feels. Without strong organic themes and ideas to govern the construction of each level, every room feels artificial and disconnected from each other. Even in the fire dungeon where the player manipulates switches to raise and lower the magma level much in the same way link does in the various Zelda water temples/dungeons, it is not apparent how the magma changes with each adjustment. Instead of trying thinking about each room as a part of a whole, I stuck to a simple strategy. Just keep going forward and don't get distracted. The game is linear even when it doesn't look like it.

There is only one aspect of Boktai's level design that is worthy of accolades: The folded and refolded level design. In each of the game's main dungeons, players delve deeper into each location overcoming obstacles, enemies, and traps to reach the boss. Players then Battle the boss (the crease). While dragging the boss inside his/her coffin back through the level, the player is mindful of the factors: the coffin randomly shaking itself free from your grip, slower character movement, the ability to use the coffin as a weight for switches, and how enemies will notice the coffin and help it escape. Once players take the coffin back to the beginning of the level another battle with the boss takes place in a special ritual. The sequence up to this point completes the folded design.

As an interesting addition, if during the course of the ritual the boss breaks free and escapes, it'll make its way back through the dungeon forcing players to scramble back through the level to recapture it and continue the process. This feature creates the possible refolds.

Over all, the folded design in Boktai is very unique and well executed. There are just a few things that I did not like about it. Unfortunately, as the coffins inch their way to freedom, once they slip through a door way, their position becomes difficult to track. Even if you pursue a runaway coffin right as it moves through a door, on the other side, the coffin is no where to be found. In fact, the coffin somehow manages to move through several rooms in the blink of an eye. It's too bad that the game couldn't design this feature more organically using the game's established rules and mechanics.

ENEMY DESIGN

The enemies in Boktai are creative each filling a specific and unique design space. Crows fly around and swoop in to pester the player. Spiders bunch up, spin sticky web traps, and spit. Gouls patrol around and launch attacks on the player. Golems are powerful stone creatures that roll after the player at high speeds. And the list goes on. What I found to be the most interesting part of the enemy design in Boktai, is the interplay that exists between the player and the enemies. By manipulating the environment, the player can turn enemy attacks against themselves. The fast rolling Golem in pursuit of the player will smash and kill any Goul in its path. The Kraken can be tricked into using its tentacle to snatched up another enemy instead. Mummies, when set on fire, can set other mummies on fire as they run around frantically. It's this kind of attention to detail that I feel is too obscure in Kojima's other games, but perfectly tuned in Boktai.

THE GIMMICK

So what is this game? From the look of things, Boktai is a game with a poor, convoluted story, lack luster puzzles, and undynamic mechanics with a level design that is composed of parts that are either hit or miss. If this accurately described the game I would have put it away long ago never to have finished. Fortunately, the best part of Boktai, the part the goes beyond the folded level design and the Classically correct enemy design, is the game's primary function: the sun that is in my hand.

I saved the best for last because it's important to understand how much influence a unique and well integrated primary mechanic is to a game as a whole. If you don't know already, Boktai is a GBA game that has a solar sensor built into the cartridge. Artificial light won't do the trick. In order to get the full Boktai experience, sunlight is required.

Because Boktai is a GBA game, the entire gaming experience is automatically portable. Play it inside, outside, and everywhere in between. Do whatever it takes so that the sun can power up the game. To use the sunlight players have to adjust the angle of the handheld so that the suns light hits the sensor directly. When battling the forces of darkness every photon of light counts. In my experience with the game, because I frequently moved from location to location, manipulating the angle of my DS to catch the sunlight turned my handheld into a 3D gaming controller that respond to real world conditions in 3D space. Using the handheld in this way is something that I've seen in few places.

To power the Gun De Sol, the main defensive and offesive weapon, players can absorb the light of day. Though the game provides many ways to obtain this solar energy in the absense of real sunlight, this section is focused on how the primary mechanic USE SUNLIGHT is used throughout the game. When the player is in an outdoor environement in the game world, the game world transmits the sunlight hitting the sensor so players are free to absorb and use the light infinitly. As we all know, vampires and the undead detest sunlgiht. So in Boktai, all of the bosses and enemies dwell in buildings or areas where the sunlight is blocked. Players must charge their solar batteries outside of these locations and conserse it once inside.

Depending on whether sunlight is shining on the solar sensor, invisible paths become visible, light shines through windows, solar winds increase, and specific areas will be illuminated. The environmental conditions also change depending on the time of day according to the game's internal clock. At sun down when real sunlight isn't available, hidden crystal like "solar bamboo shoots" twinkle in the moon light.

Even this core sunlight driven mechanic isn't without balance. To appreciate light, one must experience darkness or, in this case, shade. Playing out in the sunlight for too long will cause the Gun De Sol to begin to overheat. To remedy the situation, players must find some shade to play in. If the gun fully overheats, it won't be availablefor use until the next sun rise (also according to the internal clock). This feature tops the dynamic decay system of Boktai's solar gameplay.

In the outdoor environments in the game world, players are free to use their solar energy and refill their supplies infinitely as long as they're playing in sunlight. Generally, to progress through the game players must encounter the undead enemies in covered/indoor areas. Once out of the sunlight in the game world, players must conserve their energy as every shot drains their supply. This completes the first organic cycle between sunlight, the environment, and ammunition. And the player moves through different game environments, the solar ammo will decay with use and be refilled according to the location.

Regardless of what's happening in the game world, if the game is exposed to the sun for too long the gun will overheat. This decay cycle is partially independent of the first cycle. And when the sun sets in real life, both decay cycles are replaced with another organic decay cycle that resets with the dawn of the next day. In the end, no matter how you play Boktai, you're always a part of some kind of organic decay cycle that revolves around the sun. This means even when you're not playing you're still playing in a way.

Several reviewers criticized Boktai's dependence on real sunlight despite all the solar energy alternatives provided in the game. Complacent in how they play videogames, such reviewers thought it was inappropriate that they couldn't play Boktai any way they wanted and at any time. This is precisely why I enjoyed Boktai as much as I did. From gradually losing daylight and offensive power, to coordinating my attacks with cloud cover, to rainy day steak outs, I had to seize the day whenever I got the chance. Similar to how WiiFit raises awareness of one's physical body, playing Boktai made me more aware of the day and sunlight. In the age we live in, artificial light is everywhere. Having to work around less predictable and convenient light source made me tune into nature or at least it reminded me of how dependant and powerless life is without the sun.

And on top of all this, playing in real sunlight or in the shade is an organic way for players to control their own difficulty. During the day, I could harness the limitless power of the sun. By nightfall I had a choice to make. I could either turn the game off and wait until tomorrow to play, or I could tough it out with an ever draining supply of energy in my battery reserves.

CONCLUSION

If you don't fully embrace the light, then there's no point in playing Boktai. It's all about the solar sensor. When nearly every other element of the game is average or below average, the interaction with the sun highlights the game's more positive design elements well. Though the majority of the game leaves much to be desired, at least the sun is there with you the whole way. It's too bad some reviewers couldn't see the truth. It's also too bad that Konami didn't either. All the items, most of the puzzles, many of the dungeons, and most of the story could be completely thrown away to leave a purer, better designed product. It's a little pretentious of the developers to call me "stupid" for not wanting to solve yet another one of their dull push block puzzles, or calling me a "fool" for trapping myself inside of one of their poorly designed puzzles. If only Kojima knew what potential he had in his hands, he might have made a cleaner game.

In the end, all I wanted to do was hold the "sun in my hand," and I got a chance to with this extremely unique game. It's too bad I had to wade through some redundant mediocrity to get there. At least thinking back on the whole experience, my memories are bright.

Customizable Stats Increase Abstraction and Deconstructs Gameplay

Another day, another podcast. This time I was compelled to write this article by the conversation on Battle Field Heroes in the 8/27/08 episode of GFW Radio. If you haven't listened to this podcast, you should probably do so now. The conversation on Battle Field Heroes is fairly short but very interesting.

In the dialog, the brodeo commented on some balancing issues in the closed beta of Battle Field Heroes. In this game, each player can customize the look of their character as well as their charcters battle attributes. Instead of making a well rounded character, by maxing out a particular attribute the GFW crew was able to push the dynamics and balance of the game into deconstrutive routes. The coterie went on to comment on how MMOs often have similar balancing issues.

If you're no stranger to this blog, you know that there are two genres of video games that I frequently put under heavy criticism: FPSs (or shooters of any kind) and RPGs. From a strict game design point of view, there isn't anything wrong with either genre. However, the conventions that have been established for each genre yield games that are filled with abstractions, which work to deconstruct a game from its core. One such convention is customizable stats.

This article is focused on uncovering the damaging effects of customizable statistics/attributes to core gameplay systems by examining 3 genres: RPGs, Shooters, and Strategy games. Let's start with RPGs.

RPGs

RPGs commonly have a hard time creating concrete mechanics, interplay, and reducing the exorbitant amounts of static space. When the basic mechanics of ATTACK, ITEM, MAGIC, MOVE, EXAMINE fail to create dynamic resulting actions (a reduction of hit points is not dynamic) then adjusting the statistics behind these mechanics can do little to create dynamic gameplay. In other words, when the difference between a sword attack, fire spell, and an upgraded fire spell is mainly a difference in damage points, customizing the stats behind these attacks only changes the gameplay by allowing the player to optimize their offense linearly according to damage dealt. The more damage dealt, the better. For most RPGs, this statement is a universal truth.

In the end, whether an attack is buffed or stats fall, the lack of dynamics within a game's core design greatly diminishes the effectiveness of stat customization. The less dynamic a game is, the less customization matters. In contrast to RPGs, the next genre to be discussed contains more concrete, dynamic mechanics.

Shooters

Many shooters like Call of Duty 4 and the upcoming Battle Field Heroes feature customizable attributes and stats. I have already written on how FPSs are inherently strained to create interplay due to the nature of guns. When customizable stats are added to a game system, the relationship between the game's forms and functions can easily be stressed or broken.

When fighting in Call of Duty 4's online multiplayer, nearly all player's appearances fall into one of two categories: Allies or enemies. Due to the fast pace of the combat, encounters are started and finished in a few blinks of an eye. Even if players get a good look at an opponent with enough time to make an informed decision, there are few visual cues (forms) to indicate the custom abilities of the opponent. Most of the custom stats or "perks" in COD4 cannot be discerned from how the opponent's character model. In other words, trying to anticipate and react to a player with specific custom abilities is essentially a guessing game. Furthermore, all players have the option to switch between a number of alternate custom characters making every possible encounter, even between the same players, very unpredictable. Unfortunately, the way the game system is set up, the greater effect these perks have in battle, the more abstract the gameplay becomes. To communicate many of the opponent's hidden or invisible custom attributes, specific icons contextually appear on the players HUD. In the absence of informative forms, COD4, like most FPSs, relies on abstract HUD.

The lack of interplay or gunplay in FPSs only becomes more apparent when a customizable stat system like the one in Call of Duty 4 is present. Extra grenades, stopping power, juggernaut, martyrdom, and last stand are just a few perks of many that give players advantages without any drawbacks. For example, starting off with extra grenades has no designed drawbacks. In the typical COD4 match, grenades don't hurt allies so players can throw their extra explosives about recklessly. Because players can die and respawn so quickly, the repeated use of these grenades can further expose the lack of friendly fire, an abstract element of the game that goes against the function of a grenade. Unlike in Halo, in Call of Duty 4 fallen players don't drop their grenades so that others may pick them up. To sum up, a perk like extra grenades boosts the player's abilities, more easily exposes the game's abstractions, and leaves little to no room for interplay.

If the core design of COD4 was balanced before adding perks, the lack of disadvantages in each upgrade inevitably works to unbalance the game. Even if the all the perks balanced each other out, the developers would have sacrificed the game's visual design (form fits function) just to bring things back to a balanced game or back to where they started. In a game where there are no drawbacks for having special abilities, on the road to becoming a perfect soldier, the only downside to accepting more power is that you can't have it all. Not at once at least.

In the end, augmenting stats in any genre puts pressure on the core design. Adding customizable stats in an FPS can easily add more abstractions to the gameplay. Considering that the conventional FPS features a stressed cored design, perhaps this genre should keep things as simple and concrete as possible. Halo 3 does a good job of that.

Strategy Games

In the strategy game Advance Wars, the various military units are balanced against each other featuring advantages and disadvantages based on several factors including cost, movement speed, movement type, offensive power, and defensive power. To further color or influence the strategies at play, players can select a Commanding Officer (CO) to give additional advantages and disadvantages to their units.

Grit, a laid back, lanky, long range specialist, automatically has stronger than normal long range units and weaker than normal direct attacking units. What's important here is that Grit's advantages and disadvantages are created out of the basic core mechanics, which are a part of the game's dynamics, decay, and depth.

When advantages and disadvantages are designed out of the basic core mechanics of a game, accepting the advantages becomes a much more difficult choice than if there were no disadvantages. In Grit's case, having stronger long range units is something that every player wants. But when it comes at a price of weaker direct attacking units, players must consider their new weaknesses, what they're willing to lose, and new strategies. In this way, the core balance is maintained. To get more one must give more.

But what about that first Advance Wars game for the DS? Advance Wars: Dual Strike's core gameplay incorporated many new stats for customizing one's COs, which in turn makes it the worst Advance Wars game that has come to the American market. Take Grit in Dual Strike for example. The disadvantage of weaker direct attacking units can be nullified and even reversed by equipping specific "perks." The balance and beauty of the variation within a game when done correctly comes from how every enemy/character/move/attack takes up a unique design space. Giving players the option to customize any CO to be more like any other CO makes every unique element of design less unique. I can make a Grit that plays like Max, or a Colin that plays like Sami. If I can do all of this, then what's the point of having unique CO's in the first place? It's kind of ironic that giving the player the ability to customize stats reduces the variation in a game. Because these CO perks don't have any disadvantages, like the perks in Call of Duty 4, an unnecessarily amount of complexity is added to the game that works to diminish the unique attributes of the COs while greatly disrupting the balance of the game.

Compared to the relatively simple design of a FPS, the delicate, carefully balanced intricacies of Advance Wars: Dual Strike take a serious hit due to the customizable stats. For any game that is designed and balanced around mechanics, dynamics, and interplay, any augmentation should accompany some kind of disadvantage keeping in mind the forms and functions of the core design. Separate these elements, and the game inevitably separates.