Ubisoft

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Do You Still Trust The Games Industry?

Posted by Karl Weller on June 3, 2015

Posted in: Feature. Tagged: EA, FIFA, Gaming, PS4, Retro, The Witcher 3, Ubisoft. 7 Comments

For most of us its easy to reminisce about the joys of retro gaming with complacent pride. Swirling a brandy in a crystal glass embossed with thatched crevices, nestled atop a short stemmed glass–an action that was intended to be more pretentious than this sentence–as you observe your niece or nephew crying in exasperation because Driveclub has crashed again. With years of wizened experience you chortle an inaudible jape that mocks the advent of glitches before declaring that “things used to be different in my day.” Our eyes glazed by hindsight begin to project visual synapses that reveal the endearing inflection and the fragility of childhood memories. Memories commemorated by the coddled perception of bias. We allude to the economic neutrality of the industry that cared not for the futility of “earning profits.” That each game commanded respect and encouraged your capacity for love rather than the gratuitous atrocities committed by the adolescents of the today. When games were fortified by the suppression of cartridges there was a sense of permanency, with an inherent awareness that in 20 years from now you could dust off the secretions of time and carry on from where you left off. Now your lucky if the game works straight out of the case, as you grasp discs with such delicacy for fear that a wayward dust particle could inflict paralysis on it. You fantasize that when you were young gaming was reasonable, affordable and fair. Now I can assure you with honest impartiality that this is complete…..truth! Probably because they didn’t know how to exploit you effectively yet.

Take The Witcher 3 for instance. It acquitted itself with diplomatic equanimity. The game, though delayed for necessary servicing was eventually released without incident. Publications were granted access to the game weeks before its general release when normality dictates embargoes to free expression, allowing reviewers to impart honest parity to a games credentials rather than subsidised influences. Fluency and functionality is without reproach which is all very lovely, nice and harmonic. I feel all warm and fuzzy! But this shouldn’t be a cause for celebration? The minimum requirement of a game is that it works?! It’s a sad reflection on the industry when a games most commendable aspect is that it works! There seems to be mandatory conscriptions that dictate the manner in which some lazily created games are promoted, seemingly to inflict maximum austerity for its recipients that are now presented with limited time for intervention and duly cancel their pre-order. Gamers need an earthquake style early warning system that can detect tiny variations in a games shifting quality, just so preventative measures can be fulfilled before world-wide distribution of the product. Of course the companies responsible protest innocence that the lamented content is how they intended it to be. Watchdog’s, The Order, Assassins Creed and Destiny were remorseless in their provocations for philandering your money through misdirection. Promising you one thing but neglecting to mention numerous prohibitive bugs and omissions. You couldn’t publish a novel with chunks of narrative excerpts missing! And it’s not that they aren’t warning you, but rather concealing the formative information amongst articulated presentations. During interviews or previews they become susceptible to passive interrogation, often subverting the enquiries behind concealed pleasantries and logistical nonsense. They begin preaching misdirection through evasive deferences, like stating their games are “cinematic”, which is just another way of saying “we filled this game with QTE’s because it was difficult to fit development around my 14 hours of sleep”. Of course this distrust is further perpetuated by the media’s collusion with devs.

“That’s not a sunset in the distance, it’s just Bethesda exploding.”

There is so much alleged discrepancies when it comes to the transparency of publications, with claims from gamers of deceit from more liberal reviewers that retain an all to cosy relationship with devs and publishers, thereby corrupting results. Of course they dismiss claims that they lied about the quality of a particularly game that possess a noticeable drop in quality from resoundingly polished previews that were submitted months before, simply to cover for their surreptitious benefactors. I think gamers have every right to judge the legitimacy of a claim and I think they are entirely ratified to be cautious of reviews that appear too good to be true. But I fear scepticism will ultimately lead to cynicism. I mean you’d be naive to believe that certain assurances and exchanges of influence aren’t being conducted in some fashion within the industry, it’s a precedent that is beset against almost every industry. It’s politics, and politics has a muddied opinion for ethical sovereignty. But when I see reviewers fawn over the likes of FIFA and COD, my gut reaction isn’t one of suggested influence, but rather emblematic of someone who loves the series. Bias is a fundamental principle–in the loosest sense–when appraising a game. You can’t help but remark on past experience and rely on your own emotions. Perhaps that’s complacent, maybe even misleading, but deceitful? I don’t think so.

“Just your typical Ubisoft meeting. Mwahaha!”

It’s very easy to discern negligence from developers, publishers, publicists or whoever else can be identified as a potential candidate. It’s a melded composite of all these things. The game is the representative of all aspects of the industry. It’s too easy to perceive “them” as being faceless corporations extracting the purest essence of video games (which taste like cookies apparently) operated by tyrannical dictator stroking a white cat or in possession of one augmented appendage, twiddling their moustaches for added effect. There’s certainly an indication that morality isn’t a commanding construct as they continue reneging on promises widely publicised before, and its these types gesticulating sleight of hand that galvanise fans to facilitate dubious reserve to companies and their representatives. Sure there are inherent risks with any investment, and you certainly can’t rely on the opinions of people with monetary influences with the expressed purpose of gaining more money, but the general consensus can give a clearer perspective on a singular game. The problem is that kids these days (ugh!) have been conditioned to believe that consoles and even PC’s should capitulate to the restraints of developer’s whimsies, that the enamoured pretext they project to ensure the monetary safety of their respective wares is a consensual right?! Trust is certainly an issue, with glitches, unfinished content being distributed and DLC that looks suspiciously removed from your default purchase are commonalities that are only mutely disputed. But these are instances the entire industry appears to regard with nonchalant shrug that says “Oh well. Your still buying our games.” The future it seems is one of compliant debilitation, and that scares the hell out of me!

Do you still trust the games industry? Or even reviewers? Not me obviously……right? Right?!

The Elder Scrolls, By Ubisoft

Posted by Karl Weller on January 10, 2015

Posted in: Feature. Tagged: Elder Scrolls, Glitched, Oblivion, Online, Skyrim, Ubisoft. Leave a comment

“This is a little random, but go with it……”

We entered the publican with haste, bristled by our clear visibility as two strangers entering a town replete with citizens that wretched at the defamation of their culture and sneered at the advent of mysticism and conjurers. I had to conceal my identity as well as hers to avert any idle speculation adapting into aggressive subjugation. Ordinarily we would have camped out on the heath, distance from prying speculation but we needed accommodation sheltered from the harsh elements, sustenance and various supplies as our own suppositories had been depleted by our fierce encounters by our perusers. The establishment was gloomy, bereft of life and vibrancy. The ambient light receded behind the curtains that draped over the small partitions that barred the windows from the external luminance, granting a modest riposte from recognition. I barely had time to acclimate to the comprehensive dim before the proprietor glared at us with incredulity, conveying evident gestural dubiety as I guided my companion to maintain temporary residence at the table closets to the fire, and proceeded to enquire into the availability of temporary tenancy. Still appraising my obscure garbs and studded sheath that made it discernible that I rarely frequented such reproached abodes, his hesitancy to comply to my humble inquisition was becoming a deterrent. After a curiously aphonic evaluation, a short nod of his head indicated that accommodation was available.

We bartered momentarily before purchasing necessary provisions that had been vacant necessities on our erroneous travels. After our brief negotiation, generous reparation was settled for our restitution and I cantered back to the surreptitious confines of our table, carrying 2 bowel’s of mutton soup, a small wine and a flagon of mead. Her head was declined with her distinctive features canopied by the enveloping hood of her robe. With her hands stretched out clasped in one another’s embrace, seeking the warmth emitted from the fiery hearth her nose began to rankle at the aroma of the mutton. As we began to devour the miscellany of vegetables and meat swimming in a glazed stew, the previously vacant establishment was now clamorous with local activity. We promptly devoured our respective beverages, cleansed our bowel’s of there saline contents, endeavouring to retire to the agreed residence without attracting the passive curiosity of the provincial patrons. With the room filled with a cacophony of musical joviality with our discretion now omitted, wary of our arrested safety we jostled through the mingling throng of intoning natives, until I felt firm restraint grip my shoulder. As I prepared to relinquish his compliant constraint, with my hand gripped tightly around the hilt of my sword, carefully extracting its acute prowess for slaying, my eyes darted to meet his and gasped a the visage that confronted me……

“Just imagine if Bethesda had assisted in the making of Assassins Creed!”

His features had inverted, exposing the un-rendered sinews of his face. His eyes bulging, teeth sneering with derision, penetrating my very soul! I stepped back startled by the sudden necromancy that had afflicted the recipients in the vicinity, with some demonstrating odd muscle elasticity in their extremities. Legs began to splay upwards, necks elongated, protruding like the body of a serpent. Stationary individuals became mobile without the use of their apparitional appendages, appearing to buoyantly navigate the tavern like spectres. But before I could confront these devilish apparitions, the ground beneath dissipated, to which I plummeted into the depths of oblivion before being frozen in time, forever!

The End?

Watch Dogs; The “Belated” Console Launch Title

Posted by Karl Weller on June 4, 2014

Posted in: Feature, Review. Tagged: Aiden Pearce, Chicago, GTA, Ubisoft, Watch Dogs. Leave a comment

My preliminary examination of Watch Dogs yielded less than favourable results, causing me to mumble opaque profanities and questionable conversations with friends at a wedding recently, much to the grievance of the Groom. Me: “Hope your ready for the informal agreement of marital celibacy and monogamy? Just kidding. How are you?” Groom: “Oh mate its been so stressful, after all this time, all the planning, it’s just so surreal.” Me: “I know, disappointing too.” Groom: “Yeah…what?!” Me: “Watch Dogs. Terrible isn’t it?!” Groom: “……What?!” So I diminished for a while after my spiteful retort to Watch Dogs belated inauguration, consumed large quantities of humble pie, wiped its bitter excretions from my mouth (sounds wrong but go with the analogy) and compiled a more poised evaluation. You see there is a trending propensity at the moment to denounce Watch Dogs, with the internet abound with expansive derision and I felt abashed to do the same. There’s a hesitancy about affirming my initial corroboration with Watch Dogs too, re-evaluating my complied deviation from its underwhelming entrance, with expectancy a fault collaboratively pertained by both developer’s and gamers. It’s a subversive influence that impedes our primal instincts that can usually detect the legitimacy of the product, so I’ll happily accept partial blame for its failings, though still vocalizing with a firm contention that expectancy should be met with credible reciprocation. But Watch Dogs is certainly a victim of its own inflated volition with accompanying coverage replete with all the charms of a dashing Lothario on dating site, displaying all the subliminal attributes that suggests a kindred spirit and sharing similar recreational affinities. Only to discover that it’s a middle-aged plumber with a receding hairline that looks as though his remaining follicles are afraid of his scalp. Scurrying in to the bar with a shovel, a bag of fertiliser and enquiring whether his rag smells of chloroform? In other words, not what you were expecting.

"Aiden Pearce, moments before he realises he's left his wallet in the car."

“Aiden Pearce; moments before he realises that he left his wallet in the car.”

To suggest that Watch Dogs is underwhelming is like insinuating that Oberyn Martel probably has a bit of headache; its relatively good, but that’s its problem. Vehicular transportation feels antiquated, like a composite of differing attributes, sort of an arcade simulator that possesses all the pirouetting manoeuvrability of a bovine suffering from tuberculosis, while staring at a vast tapestry of bland textures that are almost monochromatic. But its the lead that is this games biggest encumbrance. Aiden Pearce is a criminal that hacks the bank accounts of duplicitous characters–which seemingly congregate rather conveniently in his immediate vicinity–stealing their accumulated funds through anonymous transactions. But that’s OK because he has a harassed sister deprived of a niece and a mute nephew that requires tender protection. These are hardly situations of earnest commendation, and it never extends to anything more than cajoling criminal elements without the moralistic sensibilities or self-awareness of his own felonious actions. How can I empathise with a melancholic criminal when his reasoning for vengeance is so muted? I would be happy to forgive a dodgy story if the character was even remotely endearing, but I’ve presented more expressions when using the toilet! His reputed anaesthetized personality is corroborated by the periodic sheathing of his sterile features that are masked by the woollen scarf that entwine’s his jaw, with only his desolate steely gaze piercing through his mantled anonymity. Its clear from the offset that he is intentionally stunted emotionally, that his life is plagued by the crippling visions of his past, but the content is so driven by this one horrific event–un-witnessed by ourselves other than tangled segments of implication–that it becomes a trivial catalyst. The visceral catharsis of such devastating heartache that could absolve or exonerate his nullified persona is diminished by the latent conveying of devastation.

There’s no identifiable empathy accredited to his benign demeanour, just the personification of that grumpy uncle you see every Christmas, drunk and slumped in a chair grasping the empty glass that moments earlier contained a matured bourbon, cursing his self-inflicted diabetes almost as much as he resents his betrothal to his wife of 20 years. His character feels motivated by a pale imitation of the events presented in the movie Taken. “I don’t have any (of my own) money, I don’t know who you are (without a computer), but I will find you (with said computer) and I will bore you.” And what the hell has been so traumatic that it sounds as though Pierce has deep-throated a rusty chainsaw?! I imagine this is what Clint Eastwood would sound like if he were suffering from an inflamed larynx while trying to imitate Batman! You know you have issues when the extraneous cast are more sympathetic than the fragmented paradigm of conflicted heroism. He’s supposed to be emotionally numb, I get that. He is deliberately incredulous to his cellular espionage and the consequences of his criminality to retain some redemption for his perished niece, fine, I get that too; but I just don’t care! It’s not an engaging tale of a man tortured by a personal affliction of guilt, his precipitous alienation from the people he loves or an allegory of bespoke symbolism; it’s a serviceable last generation game that feels adequate to stem visual/scripted/technical furtherance with fancy decorative trinkets and admittedly intriguing gimmicks such as hacking.

“Chicago genuinely feels like a living, breathing environment…..figuratively speaking of course.”

Like any opinion, this an advisory, very subjective sentiment bolstered by openly expressive resent for Watch Dogs frailties. But I implore you not to be as dismissive as I–and many others besides have been. That may sound like hypocrisy considering my condescending sardonic tone and proclivity for over analysing details that is ably excessive, details that would be considered negligible by most, but there is fun to be had despite how hard it seems to restrict that amusement. The breadth of inhabitance that populate the metropolis creates the illusion of a densely populated community, living singular lives and completely oblivious to your presence (as long as you don’t incinerate them). They don’t just feel like peripheral extras in a movie, waiting for directions which gives the fictionalised portrayal of Chicago vivacious credibility. This is an exemplary ruse that not even GTA have managed to achieve! It’s unfortunate then that Ubisoft didn’t promote a game based around a poorly textured city, arbitrary revenge story, turgid vehicular transportation and a largely forgettable protagonist with all the sympathetic merits of a homophobic racist that hates woman, puppies and chocolate cake. Because I may have been surmising something half decent. As it is though, it feels lacklustre, derivative and more disturbingly, dated.

What did you think of Watch Dogs? Have people been too quick to criticise it? Let me know your thoughts.

WatchDogs……Dumping In My Sandbox!

Posted by Karl Weller on May 28, 2014

Posted in: Feature. Tagged: Anger, GTA V, PS4, Sandbox, Ubisoft, WatchDogs. Leave a comment

Now let’s assume for a moment that I relish being bored. That I consider joining post office queues as a recreational activity, that urinating serrated blades is my singular notion of Nirvana or that I’m afflicted by some carnal desire to have my scrotum stomped on by Vanessa Felts wearing high-heeled shoes. Now let’s fortify these perceived presumptions of narcissism by again surmising that if I were to procure a vehicle in say, Oh, I don’t know….Watch Dogs (hypothetically speaking) that I’d want the car to manoeuvre like a squirming rape victim about to be inseminated by an elephants tusk! That my whole simulated experience should be stifled by an abbreviated composite of every other open world game, just duller, less intuitive and embroidered with ambient sterility! (Starting to forfeit the analogies now) I could then, and only then recommend purchasing Watch Dogs!! As is most likely apparent I’m discernibly angry, bitterly aggrieved and in a such an aggravated position of confusion that I’m ruminating the possibility of playing Aliens: Colonic Marines (I still renounce referring to it as “Colonial”)! Whoa, sorry…I kind of lost it for second there, but I’m all right now. *Takes a deep breath* Though Watch Dogs isn’t as bad as my analogies indicate, you’d think that a game focused on hacking bank accounts and exposing disreputable malcontent’s personal identification would operate with a little more punctual acuity, with more focus established on advantageous position of subliminal deception through ethereal manipulation, that highlights the necessity for the subtle apprehension of verified criminals, with a fresh deviation from the aggressive pedantry of GTA V, a comparison duly noted and lamented when playing Watch Dogs. But its utilised with all the grace and precision of a beached whale as you shunt vehicles off the road, tackling the perpetrator and beating them to a pulp. Sure you can hack traffic lights to cause significant collisions, but it all feels peripherally abstract. But let’s exclude all these lapses in decorative ingenuity, set aside these discrepancies and mild irritations, because the most truly abhorrent felony was including such a vacuous excuse for a lead! How is it that Ubisoft have delayed a game for such a comprehensive amount of time only to con…tain *cough* such a….*cough*point….less *cough cough*, Oh god I’m choking on my own rage here!