Torment is unmatched because of the story upon which it is built – a story so enthralling that it would have succeeded in any medium. It is difficult to describe Torment because it doesn’t have immersive segments like Half-Life, stunning graphics like Crysis or grand scale like World of Warcraft. The fact remains though: Torment’s story is undeniable, and the ‘game’ elements sensibly stay out of the way.

The Paradox of Torment

If you haven’t played Planescape: Torment, you’re just going to have to trust me: it’s one of the greatest games ever made. I only say this because the total package is an enigma that resists all attempts at reduction.

As I try to explain what makes Torment so good, I will likely end up solely discussing the game’s weaknesses. This is because it’s easier for you to envision the perfect game and from that starting point I can refine your mental image by discussing Torment’s few drawbacks rather than try to build up the complete picture from scratch. People frequently use the cliché of ‘more than the sum of its parts,’ but Torment embodies this idea.

At the start of the game, you wake up on a mortuary slab ... dead. Then the end credits roll. They ran out of funds pretty early in development.

Fans frequently cite ‘story’ as the reason for which Planescape is so great, although that’s not entirely the case. The story is well traveled (you’re an amnesiac on a quest to rediscover your identity) and the environment is nothing new (The Planescape world is a D&D setting that had been established 5 years before the release of the game and which is based off gas-light Victorian fantasy tropes).

Every aspect of the gameplay in Torment is not just equaled, but surpassed by 1998’s Baldur’s Gate. The introduction is slow and doesn’t immediately draw you in. Everything about the game seems to be designed to hide the game’s greatness. Those that persevere are rewarded many times over.

Oh captain my captain

In Planescape: Torment, you play as The Nameless One, a scarred, immortal warrior. Accompanying you is a motley crew of companions including a cocky disembodied skull, a religious fanatic and a possessed suit of armor. This isn’t your average group of adventuring heroes.

The most interesting thing about your party is that unlike most Role Playing Games in which you build relationships upon experiences during the game, Torment’s companion story arcs revolve around discovering how you knew them in the past (and ultimately what you did to them).

This is Nordom, one of your companions. Doesn't he exude charisma? No, he's just a cube? How dare you! That's the kind of Cubist talk that got Picasso in trouble

Just as much of the game comes from interacting with your party members as from progressing the main quest line. These aren’t discrete experiences; they’re entwined with each other both thematically and in story elements. They aren’t bolted on to the main storyline; they are the storyline. Torment is your journey of self-discovery, but that is accomplished through understanding your companions.

Words, not swords

As I describe various qualities of Torment, I notice that it breaks pretty much every rule for crafting a compelling RPG. The first thing they teach story writers is ’show don’t tell.’ Torment tells you everything.

It might as well be a text based adventure game because the conversations are front and center. The best experience gains come from conversations. You can talk your way out of most fights (to greater reward) and significant aspects of the narrative are only revealed through finesse.

This is yet another aspect where Torment moves away from role playing. Role Playing Games should not just allow you to level up or grow your character in a linear manner; they should let you dictate his development to some extent.

Just your standard pillar of skulls. These things are very trendy in Planescape

In Torment you can play as a warrior, but your lack of intelligence will greatly reduce your conversation abilities. This doesn’t just change the dynamic of the game, it breaks it. Therefore, you’re forced to play as a highly intelligent spell caster (or really ineffective yet intelligent warrior) to experience the true game.

Great RPGs are defined by their combat: Baldur’s Gate, the Final Fantasy Games and Elder Scrolls, for example. Story isn’t interactive and is icing rather than foundation. If there was ever a use for the nonsensical idiom ‘the exception that proves the rule,’ it would be in describing Torment.

Strangely familiar

Sigil and the Planes, where Torment takes place, are perfect settings for a game. They are familiar in their neo-Gothic styling as well as their cutthroat political and societal elements, but alien in race, language and architecture. It is a welcome change from the classic Tolkien-esque British countryside. Everything is foreign yet laced with enough familiar elements that it is never disorienting.

It is sarcastic and dark and a strong humorous vein runs through all the conversation and characters. The Nameless One is easy to identify with, and your fondness for him is frequently tested as you discover his actions from the past.

The emotions Torment elicits throughout range from amusement to sorrow, and everything in-between. You care about these characters. The story touches on such weighty issues as remorse and punishment, and even though this is a game it is more affecting than any previous or since.

What can change the nature of a man?

As I read back over what I’ve written I feel like I have done a disservice to the game. I have read nearly all of the 800,000 lines of dialogue in Torment, but there is no way to summarize them or do the story justice. There is no cliff notes version of Torment, as the dialogue is already distilled to its basest elements. There is no throwaway encounter, and every seemingly loose end is subsequently tied off and revealed to be significant.

This entire piece is a rambling mess with no adherence to convention, but I think that’s an accurate reflection of the game. It doesn’t follow the rules. It just works.

Torment is quite simply the greatest story ever told in a videogame, but that isn’t setting a high bar. Even when compared to the best examples in other media, however, Torment stands tall. Unfortunately, no one can be told about Torment; you have to play it for yourself.

Dead Space takes the best elements from System Shock 2, Resident Evil and Event Horizon and blends them into a compelling new experience. Add in innovative combat and enemies, interesting environments and an inspired UI, and you have one of the best and most underappreciated games of 2008.

Break things down into their component parts

Let’s not beat around the bush. What makes Dead Space great is enemy dismemberment. First person shooters have long incorporated location specific damage into their gameplay, with headshots inflicting more damage than body shots. Some games even allowed you to shoot off limbs, resulting in badly injured (usually zombified) enemies that still crawl towards you to finish the job (you can’t complain about zombie effort. Their coordination could use some work).

Dead Space took this mechanic to its logical conclusion. Your weapons are mining tools specifically designed to cut up rocks. Needless to say, enemies with convenient spindly extremities are not quite as proficient as rocks at withstanding slicing lasers. Your character, Isaac Clarke, shows an unexpected and Gordon Freeman-esque talent for destruction, and uses his various tools to inflict maximum damage on the enemy Necromorphs.

While this would have been a fun gimmick on its own, in conjunction with the survival horror gameplay style it becomes a battle of wits for the player. When a pack of Necromorphs surround you and are closing in, you must overcome your desire to fire wildly at them as that’s a certain death sentence. Slowing down and carefully picking them apart is exponentially more effective.

Check it out, buddy. Check out what I'm doing to your friend. You're next.

Extreme minimalism

Survival horror games thrive on making you feel like you’re lost in the experience. Sometimes that becomes difficult when you have a health and ammo meter in the corner. We have become used to these unrealistic elements as concessions to gameplay.

Dead Space removed everything from the screen. The health meter was on the spine of your suit. The waypoints were part of a built in holographic indicator. All the menus and inventory were part of your suit’s 3-D display. Everything was integrated, streamlined and believable. Sure, you will always know that you’re playing a game, but Dead Space didn’t put anything unnecessary in your way. If you aren’t too great a skeptic, you can really believe you’re on the Ishimura.

It's behind me, isn't it. No, don't tell me. I don't want to know.

Most importantly, going into the inventory does not pause the action. In many games, looking at your inventory is a welcome break in the tension. In Dead Space, there are no breaks. Sometimes you have to choose between firing, running, or frantically searching for healing supplies while a Necromorph is chowing down on your face. Everybody likes choices, right?

In space, no one can hear you scream

Lots of shooters take place on space ships. What is the difference though? You can see the vacuum of space through the window, sure, and maybe you briefly go outside, but it is only designed to make you think you’re really there.

Dead Space doesn’t play around with the idea of fighting in space. It puts it front and center. It doesn’t just have sequences where you go outside into the terrifying and silent vacuum of space. It has zero-g combat, where you must maintain your orientation while simultaneously fighting off Necromorphs and managing your oxygen levels, not to mention horrendous space meteor showers, the bane of any good miner’s existence.

Zero-g combat was a new experience, and if early indicators are anything to go by, the sequel is going to take that mechanic and greatly build upon it. 

Falcon Punch!

Old stories are the best stories

Dead Space isn’t reinventing the wheel with its story. Isaac is one of a few sent to investigate a deep space mining vessel that sends out a distress signal. This isn’t because the ship has malfunctioned, or food is running low. Rather, everybody is dead (of course) or transformed into a hideous alien beast. Stop me if you’ve heard this before.

While there’s a little more to it than that, this isn’t a story driven game. There is a little bit of inspiration from Alien involved. There is a lot of Event Horizon. There is even a hearty amount of System Shock 2 in the way you discover the back story through audio logs. The plot is familiar in a comfortable way, and the twists and characters are just enough of a foundation to ground the action and prevent it from becoming mindless. You care about Isaac, but you care more about his dismemberment talents.

Dead Space lifts the best elements of other properties and combines them into the best survival horror experience in a decade. Not since System Shock 2 has there been a game that can constantly keep you on your toes despite your knowledge that there is always something just around the corner.

Transitions between inside the ship and zero-g environments are abrupt and unique, and it’s incredible how large an impact the screech of a Necromorph can have after just coming in from the silence of deep space.

Dead Space isn’t just the best dismemberment simulator since Soldier of Fortune. It isn’t just a better survival horror experience than Resident Evil. It isn’t just the most streamlined game, well, ever. It is far more than the sum of its parts.

Many see the precursors to World of Warcraft as immature efforts that ultimately culminated in the juggernaut of an MMO that we’re familiar with today, but Warcraft III was so much more than that. It not only created a new genre, it also refocused RTS games on smaller conflicts, a complete 180 from where they were trending at the time.

Most importantly, it introduced the character of Arthas, and forever changed the lore of Warcraft. 

Smaller is better

The dream of the RTS genre was for a long time to create the ultimate large scale representation of battle. Age of Empires, Command and Conquer and Total Annihilation were all games whose focus was on grand battles and more units. As technology improved, the dream of true strategic warfare simulation was in reach.

That’s why it was so shocking that Blizzard (at the time legendary RTS developers with Starcraft and Warcraft II as their pedigree), went the direction they did with Warcraft III. Not only did they focus on small scale battles and increasing unit importance, but they brought RPG elements into the genre.

Games in the past had implemented powerful ‘hero units,’ but nobody had a fully fleshed out progression system and individual spell abilities to the extent that Reign of Chaos did. The hero units in Warcraft III weren’t merely powerful versions of the regular soldiers, they were the centerpieces of your army and without them, all was lost.

Heroes had powerful battle-changing abilities. Also apparently one building is a floating present, or tome or something. WTF is that?

In addition, the relatively small size of armies forced the player to savor every unit and micro-strategies emerged to maximize the effectiveness of all resources. No longer was it feasible to throw endless units in to a grinder and focus on economy. The face of RTS war had changed and Warcraft III’s lasting impact can be felt today with RTS/RPG hybrids like the Dawn of War series.

Birth of a genre

Mods becoming as influential or more influential than the game from which they were based was not a new development when Reign of Chaos was released. Counter-Strike was far more popular online than Half-Life ever was.

That it was a mod was not what made the success of Defense of the Ancients (DOTA) so surprising. What made it so surprising was that while Counter-Strike was in the same genre as Half-Life (FPS), DOTA was a completely new genre. While it was heavily based off the hero combat dynamics in Warcraft III, it had become something unique.

Stone Giants: Embarrassing themselves by being slaughtered by tiny heroes since 2002

Even today we’re struggling to name the genre, but descriptors such as ‘Multiplayer Online Battle Arena’ have come to prominence. It’s unwieldy enough I think most would rather stick with ‘DOTA clone’ for games of this ilk. MOBA just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

DOTA wasn’t a unique example of lightning in a bottle, either. This year alone, three DOTA clones were either released or heavily previewed: Demigod, Heroes of Newerth and League of Legends. DOTA is still played today and is more popular than Warcraft III multiplayer. Blizzard’s focus on the hero was something of a compromise in terms of game design but gamers wanted even more and took matters into their own hands.

How many games can claim they created a genre? Most genres developed over time and weren’t birthed fully formed from an existing game. Warcraft III is one of a few that holds this special distinction.

The Lich King

The most important aspect of Warcraft III’s legacy is undoubtedly the introduction of Arthas. He is such a significant figure in the lore of Warcraft that it feels like he has been around forever. People forget that he was introduced and elevated to the title of ultimate antagonist over the course of a single game.

When you combine five Druids in bear form, they become Megazord. Or a pile of bears ... I can't remember. It's been a while

It is fitting that we take a look back at Warcraft III this week as adventurers in the World of Warcraft are about to have a crack at him and will bring the Arthas storyline to a close. Icecrown Citadel will likely become available next week and unlock the final battle against the great Lich King. He is one of the first villains to grow into his place in the storyline in front of the players rather than in some ‘recounted from long ago’ type legend where you merely have to trust that he’s evil.

We know what he did, and what his motivations were; he’s not some one dimensional caricature, he’s a tragic figure who engenders a great deal of empathy. He betrayed his father and his homeland but it was as a result of his overzealous attempt to save both. Arthas’ struggle is one of the more poignant storylines in Azeroth and it will likely be with mixed feelings that heroes finally dispatch him.

Finally, players continually lament the fact that World of Warcraft is killing off all the great enemies of antiquity in Azeroth. ‘What will Blizzard do when their subscribers have defeated everybody?’ Considering the creative team at Blizzard built up Arthas in a single game, I have no doubt that they’ll be able to keep the antagonist generator running and create even greater foes.

Warcraft III’s innovations still resonate across multiple genres. I would go so far as to say that it was the first big budget genre bending hybrid game and it paved the way for AAA titles such as Borderlands and Fallout 3, as well as eclectic gems like Henry Hatsworth.

Blizzard continue to be a force in game development. How many games can say they created a genre? How many created an icon? Games that accomplished both of those feats can be counted on one hand. Warcraft III is one of those elite gems and treating World of Warcraft as the pinnacle of the Warcraft universe is nowhere near the whole story.

Atmosphere
 
You’re never safe in System Shock 2. This is not just due to the fact that the enemies are constantly respawning, but because the game is constantly putting you in a tight spot. Either you’re running low on ammo, or your gun just jammed and you don’t have that necessary repair module. 
 
Just after the game renders you defenseless by breaking your weapon, you’re likely to hear the source of your impending demise. Not only is the roar of a Rumbler or the distinctive sound of a laser turret enough to inspire fear, but constantly fighting former crew member zombies whose only lines are to apologize for attacking you is more than a bit creepy.
 
In addition, there is something jarring about going from room to room in the crew quarters collecting supplies and realizing how many people were on the ship before the incident. It is disturbing to not just know that you’re stealing the goods of crew members who you likely killed on the way up to their room, but that you’re completely on your own on the lifeless wreckage of the Von Braun.
 
System Shock 2’s varied deck environments and unique challenges create a fun game, but lots of games are fun. What really set classics apart from the rest are the little details, and System Shock 2 has them in droves.

That was the moment when Steve's day took a turn from bad to worse

Inventory
 
Inventory management systems are tricky and videogames still haven’t figured them out. While there are many standardized elements to today’s games, you still see ‘one item one slot,’ weight based systems and Tetris inventories. While System Shock 2 fits into the latter category, it’s one of the few games to use it in a way that felt strategic and not simply inconvenient.
 
Most games that limit your inventory are frustrating because you have to leave quality goods behind. In SS2, however, your skill choices frequently limit your weapon proficiencies to the point that some of the larger items you receive later in the game are useless to you anyway. 
 
More commonly, your choice is whether you want to carry a few extra versions of your primary gun just in case it breaks, or whether you’d rather carry a haz-mat suit. Or maybe you have to choose between carrying those last few poison antidotes, or some EMP grenades to counter robot defenses.
 
System Shock 2 rarely prevents you from carrying a ‘use all the time, primary’ type of item. Rather, its inventory management makes you choose between contingency plans. It’s likely that whatever you left behind is exactly what you’re going to need the next time you’re in a tight spot.

This guy has the motto 'always be prepared.' His hacking skill, no doubt, is 'retard,' but radiation won't kill him

Character Customization

System Shock 2 can be played in significantly different ways. Many like to run and gun, choosing the heaviest armor and the largest weapons. It’s just as easy to play through the game as a stealthy hacker, disabling security systems and even turning them to your advantage.

System Shock 2 is one of the few games where there’s no ‘right’ way to play. None of the choices feel like they’re hugely overpowered, and while in certain situations one approach will be easier, across multiple scenarios it all balances out.
 
The one thing where they really dropped the ball is in not allowing you to hack the giant robot turrets to join you as an ally. As with most games, System Shock 2 has far too few giant robot battles, a flaw I hope they correct if they ever make a SS3.

System Shock 2's graphics and polygon counts were incredible and still hold up to close inspection. Photorealistic

Strong Finish
 
System Shock 2 doesn’t peter out at the end. Instead of a muddled, psychobabble conclusion to what is ultimately a cliché story, you face your enemies head on. For much of the game, you’re merely trying to survive and progress. For the finale, however, you go into the body of the alien menace and explode its heart.
 
As an encore, you go into a cybernetic world made real by Shodan, your sometimes antagonist / sometimes compatriot patron and destroy her digital cortex. There is no fall guy, or misdirection. System Shock 2 gives you the opportunity to strike directly at those forces that have been facing off against you for the whole game.
 
It is a mistake that too many games these days commit: twisting the ending and rendering all that you’ve accomplished meaningless. System Shock 2, fortunately, does not fall into this trap.
 
I haven’t even mentioned the fact that Shodan is one of the most compelling antagonists in videogame history. I didn’t touch on the fact that cooperatively over a network this game takes on an entirely different feel and is one of the best teamwork based experiences around. I glossed over the fact that the pacing and flow of the game is stunning.
 
I haven’t touched on so many little things that make System Shock 2 great. What I would say, however, is that I believe for a game to be great, it doesn’t just have to lay the groundwork, but it has to excel in and of itself. Many have lately proclaimed that Bioshock is not just a spiritual successor to System Shock 2, but that it is the superior game.
 
While it may have superior graphics and special effects, in every other aspect Bioshock falls short. System Shock 2 has better story, weapons, environments, villains and atmosphere. It is the total package, and one that has been woefully underappreciated.

Whether referring to unforgiving damage, weapon selection, objective based gameplay, differentiated teams or timed respawns, CS represented a huge leap forward in game design. It was such an improvement that despite huge imbalances and buggy gameplay on release, early adopters universally saw its potential.

Think of it this way: how many of you know de_dust better than you know your own neighborhood? Probably more than you might think.

Unforgiving

Forget buying guns, or mission types, the biggest differentiator in Counter-Strike is the unforgiving damage. Sure, License to Kill mode in Goldeneye was even more hardcore, but that was a single game mode. Popular shooters before CS such as Quake III or UT all had traditional (unrealistic) damage systems where a character could take many hits before death.

Not only did CS have a system that resulted in 2 or 3 hit kills with most guns, but it punished you for merely being hit. Most games had shied away from accelerated disadvantaging of players as they were hurt, as would likely happen in real life; CS went halfway there. While there were no permanent handicaps from being injured, temporary movement was significantly reduced after being shot decreasing your chances of escape.

In addition, CS was the first game to really bring bullet penetration to the forefront. No longer were walls and crates perfect cover. The more powerful the weapon, the better it was at shooting through objects. This also increased accusations of people being ‘wallhack whores’ 300% (by my calculation).

Counter-Strike: directed by Michael Bay

Choose wisely

Like health packs and final bosses that suck, first person shooters had certain conventions until CS. One of the most basic is that guns were picked up off the ground, and finding the fastest path to the best guns in a map was 90% of mastering map strategy. CS offered a completely different system, in which the only guns found on the map were those dropped by slain teammates or foes. Instead of finding guns, you purchased them at the start. While today’s shooters all have preset loadouts in which you choose your weapon setup beforehand, receiving guns at the start of a round was a revolutionary concept.

Critics suggested that it was unfair as the winners received more money and could purchase better weapons, thereby increasing the likelihood that they continued to win. Online FPS had always relied on a model of equality in which giving players additional health or weapons was taboo as it was expected to remove ‘skill’ from the equation. CS did exactly these two things, allowing wealthier players to start with superior weaponry and body armor.

While CS broke the mold, what made it so strategically interesting is that weapons didn’t reset from round to round. Even if you were on the losing team you could save your cash for a few rounds to purchase a top tier weapon. You could also pick up a great gun for free from a fallen enemy on the wealthier team. Cash management was a tactical consideration and when a well equipped enemy killed you because you decided to save some cash, you could be confident the next round if you met again you’d have the upper hand.

He's behind me, isn't he? No no, don't tell me. I'm not even going to look ...

Asymmetrical Competition

Team based shooters such as the ever present Team Fortress games started with a simple principle: teams were equal. In CS teams didn’t just look different, they played differently. Each team had separate weapon choices.

These weren’t traditional RTS-esque ‘differences’ where there was a different skin but the weapon functioned identically. These were entirely different weapons, with different handling and damage. While it’s a testament to Cliffe and Gooseman’s balancing abilities that the weapons were for the most part fair, this was a huge risk and one that could have gone wrong in so many ways.

Objectives?

Online shooter game types used to take two forms: deathmatch and capture the flag. Counter-Strike’s introduction of the bomb and hostage (and the forgotten escape mode) game types added much needed sophistication into online play. While it wasn’t quite enough to get players to focus on the objectives over their kill to death ratio, it did introduce the ability to steal wins.

While a single terrorist with the bomb probably cannot eliminate 5 or 6 surviving members of the CT team, he can still steal a victory given multiple bomb locations. The diversity was a breath of fresh air.

Ahh, de_dust ... home again

Instant respawn?

Deathmatch is simple. If you can kill a few guys before you die, who cares about the consequences? The downside to death is that you appear somewhere else on the map, and maybe you have to find a good weapon again. In CS, the penalty is much greater: a couple minutes of your time. If you die, you have to watch until the end of the round which could potentially be 3-5 minutes.

Boredom was proven to be the biggest deterrent to foolish behavior, and the round system in conjunction with the realistic bullet damage did a lot towards promoting a tactical, careful approach to the game rather than a standard deathmatch ‘spray and pray’ approach.

Counter-Strike was not without flaws: the original had many bugs and balance issues. Hostage pathfinding was terrible. Sniper rifles had flawless accuracy while in motion and jumping and some of the original maps were questionable at best in quality. That being said, it wasn’t just anther crappy mod sent out to die because no amount of flaws could completely obscure its promise.

CS might have been superseded by Call of Duty in player base, but they’re just playing an updated version of Counter-Strike. May they take all the aimbot whores and leave us with the remainder.

When Relic Entertainment revealed Homeworld would add full 3D space to the RTS genre, many expected a rough framework for an idea with potential. That they not only invented but perfected the mechanic is evidenced by the only competitor being their own sequel. Why play a game like Homeworld, when you can play Homeworld?

Homeworld added 3D space and so much more, and it deserves its position in the pantheon of RTS greats alongside the Warcrafts, Starcrafts and C&Cs of the world. Also, lasers. The game has lots of lasers.

Freedom

RTS games are complicated enough: resource management, troop positioning, stupid peons cutting down too many trees and opening new entrances into my base. So when Relic announced Homeworld would add the z-axis, all I could think was ‘this won’t go well.’

In space, there are no ‘choke points’ or other traditional RTS map characteristics. There are no traditional map fighting hotspots. Homeworld sounded like it had nothing in common with Age of Empires, Starcraft or C&C, the current RTS champions. Honestly, fighting in space sounded pretty boring. Turns out, it’s anything but.

LASERS!

Pincer movements could come not just from the sides, but from above and below. Resources weren’t just at specified gold mine or crystal locations, they took the form of space rocks, and they were everywhere. There was no way to guard your mothership from all sides, despite some interesting spherical unit formations, so tactical decisions had to be made on the fly. Clogging the only entrance to your base and turtling up just wasn’t viable.

The addition of the third dimension in Homeworld was one of those seemingly simple concepts that added exponential layers of sophistication. It threw out the RTS playbook and made players re-learn strategy from the ground up.

In space, nobody can hear you scream

Space is big. Homeworld’s strategy was reflective of this. Flying from one side of the map to the other was a significant commitment. In many RTS games, you can adjust your army’s position to respond to enemy actions on the fly. Guarding the wrong side of your base? Just make a quick shift.

In Homeworld, when your main army is halfway to your opponent’s mothership, and you suddenly realize he has snuck up on you from behind, there’s no ‘pulling back your forces to defend.’ They’re minutes away, and you’re on your own. Generals don’t think ‘my army’s in Paris, but we’re being attacked in Germany; let’s just make a quick shift.’ If you don’t plan ahead in Homeworld, you’re dead (via lasers).

In addition, teleporting cost incrementally more money the further you want to travel, so poor and desperate players would frequently teleport as far as they could as a ‘last ditch effort’ to escape, and would hilariously reappear essentially in the same spot, as that’s all they could afford.

Hmm, no lasers here. This is probably an early build

Give me a ping, Vasili. One ping only, please

While stealth aspects in games had been explored before, Homeworld brought deception to the genre. Previously, information control dealt primarily with the fog of war, an independent and consistent actor in the game. You know how the fog of war is going to react to every situation: if you’re not there, you can’t see it.

To be fair, past games had stealth units, but reconnaissance consisted generally of finding at which base locations your opponents were, and where the bulk of their army was, by sacrificing a unit or two to test choke points.

In Homeworld, radar proximity sensors were valuable information gatherers. Certain ships and events were easier to detect, and there was frequently a strategic tradeoff between being obvious and being stealthy. There were stealth ships with which you could hide a significant portion of your force from radar and try to sneak into attack position.

This was especially effective compared to other RTS games where it’s hard to sneak past enemies blocking all entrances into a base. In Homeworld, you could pass right by a defense force on the same XY coordinates but above or below them.

I don't know if this is technically a Homeworld screenshot. I thought it was thematically appropriate

Smaller. The UI must be smaller!

Homeworld was one of the first games to really push a minimalist aesthetic. The UI was hidden by default, and most of the actions were accomplished through right click menus and hotkeys. This foretold a trend in games towards giving way to viewable space, while simultaneously creating an interface that complimented the atmosphere.

As a result, battles become very cinematic. There are few quick maneuvers for capital ships in your fleet. Once you’ve positioned your forces prior to a battle, you have essentially made all strategic decisions. All that is left is to watch the lasers.

Fortunately, Homeworld’s minimalist UI meant there was little to get in the way of the lasers, of which there are many. The largest development for Homeworld 2 was to increase the laser count by 300%. This is primarily responsible for the 10 point Metacritic hit suffered by the sequel; some reviewers did not survive such a sharp increase in laser content, and their reviews were scored zero by default.

Homeworld is a groundbreaking game in more than one respect, and everybody should give it a go. As an extra bonus, the game holds up today better than most decade-old experiences. Also, lasers. Pew pew!

Second look will be a new feature highlighting games that deserve (you guessed it) a second look. Whether they are underappreciated classics, landmarks in innovation or simply the most refined example of a genre or mechanic, these games have a strong influence on today’s industry landscape.

While many of the games are well known, with the rapid expansion of the gaming demographic, many groundbreaking games from the past are forgotten. Ideas explored by these games have been copied and perfected, but it’s useful to know whose shoulders we’re standing on.

When Peter Molyneux chose his top five most influential games,  he selected Halo for popularizing the FPS genre on consoles. I’m going to assume he misspoke, and meant Goldeneye 007. It doesn’t get the credit that DOOM or Half-Life do in evolving the genre, but arguably did more than either in shaping today’s FPS experience.

To the masses!

People claim DOOM was the first FPS to really break out into the mainstream, but there’s a difference between mainstream on the then-marginal PC platform, and mainstream in general. DOOM barely sold 2 million copies  and although that was Herculean at the time, Super Mario World had already sold 20 million copies on the comparatively dominant SNES.

Goldeneye 007 sold 8 million copies, a monstrous sum when compared to other FPS titles at the time, and although sales don’t necessarily indicate quality, it does indicate penetration. Much in the way Final Fantasy VII was most people’s introduction to JRPGs and therefore the game for which they have the most nostalgia, Goldeneye was for many their first FPS. The PC had DOOM, Mac had Marathon and the N64 had Goldeneye.

The idea that Halo led the FPS genre to consoles when Goldeneye had already seen a 25% penetration rate on the N64 years before is laughable. Now if you want to discuss who brought recharging health to consoles … (hint: Halo)

Stop fooling around Sergei, Bond could be here any minute. I believe you can do a back flip, alright? Oh GOD HERE HE IS!

Quietly, now

The sophistication of Goldeneye’s shooting mechanics was far beyond those of its peers. While in DOOM or Quake enemies saw you and used Sun Tsu’s ‘run straight towards your enemy flailing your arms wildly’ tactic, Goldeneye introduced intricate stealth aspects to the genre. Before Metal Gear Solid was even released, Goldeneye was encouraging you to destroy security cameras and shoot people in the face before they could trigger alarms (fun fact: face shooting remains the preferred method for preventing people from doing unwanted things to this day).

In addition, enemies would only become aware of your presence after being triggered. In the first level in Goldeneye you have the opportunity to snipe guards on towers from a distance. Even more impressive is the way guards react to sound. You can use a weaker silenced weapon to take out guards from behind, or else you can use a more powerful but louder weapon to shoot through doors and thin walls. There is a clear tradeoff involved, and it’s the kind of strategic decision that was years ahead of its time.

This sound tradeoff carried over to multiplayer as Goldeneye was the first game where sound was a valuable indicator of a player’s position (unless you look at your opponent’s portion of the screen, in which case you’re a douche and your opponent is allowed a free swing at your head with the Bond-themed cudgel included in the collector’s edition).

Being Bond is a lonely job. All dressed up with his PPK and nobody to kill

Location, location, location

Speaking of my favorite topic (shooting people in the face), Goldeneye was the first FPS to have location specific damage. The Unreal Tournament announcer wouldn’t have much to do without Goldeneye introducing the concept of a headshot. Add in the ability to aim at certain parts of the screen (a concept that didn’t really catch on), and twitch reflexes took on a whole new value.

It seems old hat now, but the first time you shot a guard’s hat off from behind while aiming for his head is staggering. The connection to reality when imagining the guard’s panic is far different from the experience when you come across an Imp or even one of the personality free sprites from Wolfenstein.

The more the merrier

While a vigorous game of Super Mario Kart can really get the blood pumping and the obscenities flowing freely, it is nothing compared to a four player Goldeneye match. Contrasted with the relatively removed experience of playing a PC deathmatch game pre-voice chat, competing with three friends in the same room was a blast.

The feverish and chaotic gameplay, especially given the vertical layout of some of the maps, was exhilarating, and it was only enhanced with the one-shot-kills ‘License to Kill’ mode. This atmosphere wouldn’t really be replicated until a decade later when voice chat on consoles really became standard and opponents were no longer nameless avatars.

Listen carefully Bond, your new rocket launcher is made from paper towel rolls. Oh no, don't use it! That would be terribly dangerous

It’s a movie game, and it’s good?

Crossover products between film and games haven’t exactly had a stunning track record, so not much was expected from Goldeneye other than a cheap throwaway cash grab. Considering most of the team at Rare had no prior game development experience, it was unrealistic to expect otherwise.

Not only is Goldeneye nothing of the sort, it was the first FPS game to really focus on the story. Although it had defined missions and therefore didn’t have the seamless immersion achieved in Half-Life, there was more depth to the mission objectives than ‘kill everything on the floor, find blue key, escape.’ (To be fair to DOOM, there were also red keys, and occasionally a yellow key)

When the history of FPS games is written, the timeline generally breaks down into DOOM –> Half-Life –> Halo –> Call of Duty. This leaves a glaring hole and suggests that even a game as beloved as Goldeneye can be easily overlooked. Many of its innovations are still in use today, and it would be a shame if it didn’t receive its due praise.

Maybe people just can’t get over the Klobb. Seriously, that thing was terrible. If anybody reading this works at Microsoft Game studios, give Ken Lobb a good slap for me. He’ll know what it was for.