Loaded Questions

Loaded Questions Vol. 11

Loaded Questions is a regular feature at Game Bias. If you have a question you would like to submit, please email it to pressgrove84@yahoo.com or tweet it to @jedpressfate. Questions can cover anything closely or tangentially related to video games or art, including but not limited to criticism, culture, and politics. Questions may be edited for clarity.

Question 1

Daniel Cánovas‏: Out of the games you’ve played, which ones were the longest with the least amount of trivial content? RPGs preferably.

Jed Pressgrove: Off the top of my head, my picks for RPGs of this sort would be Final Fantasy VI, Earthbound, Final Fantasy Tactics, Fallout 2, Planescape: Torment, The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings, Dark Souls, and Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia.

Question 2

Nathan Osborne: After the 2016 election, I heard some people say that one small consolation of a Republican administration is that the culture (music, movies, literature) gets better. A lot of this commentary was centered on the hope for a revival of protest music, but not all of it. There was almost a vague sense that artists, usually open-minded and left-leaning themselves, get challenged into higher terrain when faced with gross reactionaries. So do you notice anything like this in the video-game world? Do Republican or Democratic presidents make for better video games?

Jed Pressgrove: My gut reaction is that people who said the Trump administration will inspire better culture were being hopeful at best and naive at worst. For instance, I don’t think music or film has gotten more interesting since Trump’s election, especially if we’re talking about popular artists. And look at the output of musical and film artists during the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s. Both Democrats and Republicans controlled the executive branch multiple times throughout those decades, but the quality of pop music and pop film in the United States was consistently vibrant during that 30-year stretch. Art is better because of style and execution, not because of whatever the artists might be reacting to. It’s how they react that matters, and right now, music and film seem awfully safe and pandering as a whole, and that’s what capitalists want.

Here’s something to consider specifically in the context of video games: everything isn’t political. Yeah, some people love saying the opposite, but that’s their knee-jerk revolutionary side talking. Here’s where I’m going with this: 2017 was considered by many to be a great year for video games. But when I look at some of 2017’s best games — such as Topsoil, Splasher, Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle, Steamworld Dig 2, and Arkanoid vs. Space Invaders — I don’t see much political meaning or inspiration at all. And as for top-notch 2017 games that were ostensibly, if not undeniably, political — such as The Norwood Suite, Nier: Automata, Pyre, Golf Story, and Torment: Tides of Numenera — can we assume that Trump was always a major driving force for their development?

I do think games like Wolfenstein II: The New Colossus and Far Cry 5 were partially inspired by the Trump administration and people’s reactions to it. But those games have questionable value in almost every respect. So there you go. Artistic style and execution, ahem, trump political inspiration.

In short, people who spend their days and nights thinking politics, politics, politics will say just about anything that they think will impress and patronize their buddies.

Question 3

Doggie: What makes shooters great to you? And why do you think Thunder Force VI is criticized heavily?

Jed Pressgrove: I do believe a lot of shooters are crap. It’s an overcrowded genre, so it’s a simple thing to fall back on because of its history and popularity. But what I like about great shooters is their kinetic brilliance and their ability to tap directly into our animalistic “fight or flight” instincts, to paraphrase Defender and Robotron: 2084 developer Eugene Jarvis. The shooter is one of the earliest video-game genres, so we can learn much about the potential of the medium by understanding them. Beyond that, they’re a very absorbing type of art, an intense experience. And look at some of the notable auteurs who have created shooters: Jarvis, Masanobu Endō (Xevious), Dave Theurer (Missile Command and Tempest), Shinji Mikami (Resident Evil 4). Check out my 15 greatest shooters list if you haven’t. I go into more detail there.

Haven’t played Thunder Force VI, so can’t comment.

Question 4

Serge Soucy: What’s your favorite arcade cabinet?

Jed Pressgrove: Missile Command. Most of the time, when it comes to cabinets that I like, I’m drawn to some good-looking art or an attractive form of advertising. Missile Command’s cabinet gets my attention in a far different way. The art on the cabinet’s side is superb, but I’m more drawn to how the control layout makes me feel like I’m part of a battle station. I wish I could have played it back in the early 1980s (I was born in 1984) when the Cold War was still on everyone’s mind, but even when I played a Missile Command cabinet last year, I still got a strong sense of what it meant politically and culturally. It’s a cabinet that appeals to something far greater than the taste of an aesthete.

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Loaded Questions Vol. 10

Loaded Questions is a regular feature at Game Bias. If you have a question you would like to submit, please email it to pressgrove84@yahoo.com or tweet it to @jedpressfate. Questions can cover anything closely or tangentially related to video games or art, including but not limited to criticism, culture, and politics. Questions may be edited for clarity.

Question 1

Dani: Do you tolerate tank controls in games like Resident Evil 4 or God Hand? I read a piece where you talk about how this mechanic was awful in Silent Hill 2, but you have praised Resident Evil 4, so I’m curious why.

Jed Pressgrove: I haven’t played God Hand, but the protagonist in Resident Evil 4 controls fine as a tank, and it’s all due to perspective.

Before I go any further, I’ll explain what basic tank controls are for those who may not be familiar with them. In a game with tank controls, pressing “up” on a control pad or joystick will move you forward. To turn, you must press “right” or “left” on a pad or joystick, and when you turn, your avatar stops moving altogether. In other words, you can only move forward when you’re facing in the direction you want to move, but to face another direction, your avatar must pause and turn. Moreover, if you press “down” on a pad or joystick, your avatar will, depending on the game, do nothing or move in reverse without facing the opposite direction.

Regardless of whether you’re playing Resident Evil 4, Silent Hill 2, or Combat (which actually involves tanks), tank controls usually take time to get used to. But perspective, or the position of a game’s camera, can significantly impact your experience using this control scheme.

In Resident Evil 4, the camera is behind the shoulder of the protagonist; thus, the player is always looking in the same direction as the protagonist. This perspective allows tank controls to be more intuitive, as when you press “up,” the protagonist moves “up” into the background that he is facing. And because the perspective never changes, you’re tied to the eyesight of the character, which produces a strong connection between you and the avatar.

In Silent Hill 2, the camera angle changes dynamically depending on where you are walking in the environment, similar to the case in the original Resident Evil. The camera might be behind your character one moment, only to show a side view of your character in the next. And yet, the whole time, you’re expected to keep pressing “up” to move forward. The random changes in perspective are intended to be discombobulating, but I consider this a cheap trick that serves as a contrived reminder that you and your avatar are fundamentally at odds, and let’s not forget, the Resident Evil series already pulled this trick multiple times.

To me, the epitome of Silent Hill 2’s clunky stupidity is the early encounter with Pyramid Head where you have to keep running away from him in circles within a small room. The concept itself is silly and kinetically uninteresting, and the only reason it’s remotely tense is due to your avatar’s weird pauses in movement every time you have to turn (rather than any heightened connection between you and the avatar). The elongated routine completely destroys any suspension of disbelief that one might have, as no one in their right mind would awkwardly pause as they’re running away from such a destructive creature within an enclosed space.

Question 2

Kenji Madaraki: Is replayability a factor for you when deciding if a game is one of the greatest ever? I know that Indie Gamer Chick, for example, has stated that she doesn’t care much at all about replay value and will still put a game in her top 10 even if she liked it drastically less on a second playthrough. Has a game ever fallen out of favor with you to a considerable degree after you played it again?

Jed Pressgrove: I definitely fall more on Cathy’s (Indie Gamer Chick’s) side when it comes to replayability.

First, games are frequently addictive for various reasons, but just because a game is addictive doesn’t mean it’s great. Case in point, if you were to go by hours played to identify my top game of 2016, Street Fighter V would be the clear winner. However, I didn’t play Street Fighter V for hours and hours and hours because it was great. I did it because I’ve been playing the Street Fighter series since I was a young kid, and I’m very competitive when it comes to any of those games. Even though Street Fighter V isn’t that good (see my review here), I still got a rush from beating people online, so I played the game for a ridiculous amount of time.

Second, I don’t call a game “great” before going through a rigorous process of questioning my instincts and feelings and comparing the game’s strengths and weaknesses to those of various other games. There is no objective truth here, though I do have a lot of knowledge and experience to draw from when making these determinations. So while it can be helpful to replay certain games when I’m trying to rank them in a specific order, replayability doesn’t help me evaluate the various qualities of a game in a historical sense.

To answer your final question, sometimes replaying a game might make me think it’s not as good as I thought it was, but I can’t recall a single time when this has happened for a game that I consider one of the greatest ever, and that’s due to the second reason above. I don’t throw around “greatest” lightly.

Question 3

Cesar Marquez: What is art? What isn’t art? How can video games be art and sport at the same time?

Jed Pressgrove: Very broadly, art is something that involves craft and/or personal expression/style, and it can be appreciated by an audience as a display, statement, or performance. This definition allows quite a number of things to be art — from paintings to lawns, from chess to basketball, from cross-stitching to glassblowing. Art is not necessarily good, but I think it should be a very wide umbrella.

The main thing that I exclude from the artistic realm is advertising. If the sole purpose of something is to get you to spend money on something else, that thing is my sworn enemy as a critic and human being.

There is a competitive element to many games, so that’s why they can be sports, which can be art themselves. The art in games can be seen in their individual elements (music, visuals, etc.), what they express as a whole (Nier: Automata as a portrait of discrimination, Earthbound as a statement on the unifying power of faith, etc.), and what players can achieve (Dayo’s come-from-behind victory in Street Fighter III is beautiful and elating).

Loaded Questions Vol. 8

Loaded Questions is a regular feature at Game Bias. If you have a question you would like to submit, please email it to pressgrove84@yahoo.com or tweet it to @jedpressfate. Questions can cover anything closely or tangentially related to video games or art, including but not limited to criticism, culture, and politics. Questions may be edited for clarity.

Question 1

Mingying Wang: In a tweet, you questioned if using Steam is something people should do. Just curious, why do you think that? Also, what would be your suggested alternative?

Jed Pressgrove: I tweeted that because of some people’s outrage over Steam’s policies and decisions. For years, it hasn’t been unusual to see a moral critique of Steam, but I’ve personally never seen any of these same people conclude that we should stop using Steam.

Oli Welsh’s recent reaction to Steam’s content policy is a great case in point. His final two sentences on the policy follow: “They [Steam] will watch the vast community they built devolve into toxicity and hate and their storefront get overrun with exploitative, bilious rubbish, and they won’t intervene for fear of offending anyone or taking a position on anything. It is weak, it is immoral and it is unworthy of our industry and our art form.”

These sentences are powerful, but they lose power when you consider that Welsh doesn’t even consider the idea of withholding money from Steam or ceasing one’s usage of Steam. What’s more, despite the fact that you have to pay for individual games on Steam without being able to own them (a swindle if I’ve ever seen one), Welsh’s article says, “[T]he deal with the customer is a fair one.” Bullshit, Welsh! Get off your moral podium if you can’t think in favor of everyday working people.

I’m not telling people how they should spend their money or time. If someone wants to use Steam every day and buy 1,000 games from Steam within one year, that’s their right. All I’m saying is that if you’re going to imply Steam is an indifferent dictator that doesn’t care if Neo-Nazis take over the world, I’m not going to take your bile seriously if you’re still using the service, promoting its sales, etc.

Personally, I don’t use Steam that often. The major reason is that I don’t currently own a gaming PC, though when I do purchase one (which should happen in the coming months), I will use Steam from time to time if I can’t find another way to play a particular game. But I will never say Steam is fair. If it were fair, you would either get to own the games you buy or pay a flat fee to play a wide selection of games through the Steam service.

Question 2

Jeff Hudspeth: I recently watched an Extra Credits episode that made the point that games shouldn’t cost $60 and should probably cost more based on a variety of apparently sensible factors (though the video concludes $60 is probably where prices should remain). I wondered what you, as someone who makes a point of considering things from the perspective of the working-class gamer, thought about current game prices. Is $60 an acceptable price tag even though it perpetuates loot boxes and DLC? Is $70+ as outlandish as it sounds? Is it even possible to come to a solution without reaching the conclusion that our economy needs to be massively overhauled?

Jed Pressgrove: If I’m being honest, I think $60 is too much. For starters, just look at how big-budget titles are packaged: the cases are poorly made, and they rarely come with manuals, booklets, or something akin to liner notes. Next, look at how quickly most games lose value. Then think about how many of the games are technically questionable at launch, or how you have to spend more money just to get cosmetic features.

I could go on and on. The game industry — as well as unoriginal blowhards like Extra Credits who go out of their way to defend the industry’s low standards and to lull people to sleep with patronizing baloney — can’t shut up about the costs of game production, yet at the same time, it releases (and often celebrates!) poorly made stuff on a regular basis. And do game companies ever consider that perhaps they generally suck at budgeting?

$60 price tags do not perpetuate loot boxes and DLC. The game industry must take substantial moral responsibility for releasing unfinished and incomplete games. Another group that deserves some blame is game journalists, who should represent a united front against the schemes of the industry. Finally, everyday people who spend money on DLC and the like might grapple with the notion that they’re getting ripped off. Sometimes the best thing to do is to stop spending.

Question 3

Serge Soucy: After reading through Slant’s recently revised top 100 games list, I became curious as to how you and other members of the Slant team collaborate to make a list of that size. What’s the process like?

Jed Pressgrove: I can’t reveal everything that went into the updated list, but I can speak broadly about my experience. All of the writers submitted ranked ballots (which were not shared between us). That was the most challenging part for me. I had never created a ranked list of the 100 best games, so I had to think about every game I had ever played from either memory alone or by looking at other lists and resources to help me remember.

Our editor, Ed Gonzalez (who is both a great editor and one of the best film critics alive), then assigned scores to all of the games based on a number of factors (how highly a game ranked on an individual list, whether a game showed up on multiple lists, etc.).

After the scores were tallied, it turned out that a number of the games were neck and neck. So Gonzalez asked us to write arguments for the games that we thought were the most deserving in these neck-and-neck situations. That was the most fun part.

None of the writers (to my knowledge anyway) corresponded about the list during this process. In one way, that’s a good thing. You wouldn’t necessarily want writers teaming up and trying to impose their will on a list.

But in another way, I wish I could have debated with my peers more. As I said on Twitter, I strongly disagreed with a good chunk of the games that made it to the list. But that’s the nature of the beast. That’s why if you really care, you should make your own list.

 

Loaded Questions Vol. 7

Loaded Questions is a new weekly feature at Game Bias. If you have a question you would like to submit, please email it to pressgrove84@yahoo.com or tweet it to @jedpressfate. Questions can cover anything closely or tangentially related to video games or art, including but not limited to criticism, culture, and politics. Questions may be edited for clarity.

Ronaldo Villanueva: Do you think The Legend of Zelda is a role-playing game? The definition of RPG is not clear for many people, which is what makes Zelda’s classification unclear. I also think a problem arises given that A Link to the Past and A Link Between Worlds take a lot of their structure from Dragon Quest and other Japanese RPGs, namely using narrative as a vehicle for linear progression through a world.

Jed Pressgrove: I don’t go around thinking “Zelda is a series of RPGs,” but there is a good argument for that line of thought. Your point about narrative is a good one. Now, if someone counters and says an RPG must give you the opportunity to level up your character, we could argue Zelda II: The Adventure of Link is an RPG, as it allows you to level up your strength, health, and magic through experience points.

I was happy to read this question because a few years ago game developer and theorist Chris Bateman and I exchanged blog letters about this topic, and I mentioned The Legend of Zelda in my letter (here’s my letter, and here’s Bateman’s response). We didn’t arrive at any easy answers for this question about RPGs, but I think you’ll find the conversation interesting.

One thing’s for sure: the definition of RPG has changed a lot since Dungeons & Dragons. And at this point, tons of games use narrative to drive linear progression through a world and offer players the opportunity to level up and mold their characters. And as Bateman pointed out in his response to me, another perspective values more open progression in RPGs. So even if we’re not willing to call games like Assassin’s Creed Origins or Okami RPGs, you could make a convincing case that the RPG is currently the most influential video-game genre.

Daniel Cánovas: What are the worst penalties you’ve seen in video games? And the best? I’m playing Final Fantasy V right now, and you have to redo a lot of stuff (get experience and levels, watch cinematics, etc.) if you die in combat.

Jed Pressgrove: I know many people hate the idea of starting a game all the way over after losing a certain amount of times, but some of the greatest games ever (Galaga, Xevious, and so on) use this penalty. What I hate is being forced to watch a cutscene every time I attempt to defeat a boss, especially if that cutscene is idiotic (and pre-boss cutscenes often are). Even if the cutscene is good, who wants to watch it multiple times when your primary motivation for continuing to play is victory over a challenging foe?

As far as best penalties are concerned, it might be beyond cliched to say this now, but the penalty of losing potential experience points in Demon’s Souls/Dark Souls is brilliant in how it plays with our curiosity, greed, and pride: do you keep exploring this fascinating world, even if dying means you have one chance to survive through a series of enemies again just to regain what you once had in your possession? I also like how if you don’t wait for Shadow at the Floating Continent in Final Fantasy III (SNES), you will never see him again and thus will never be able to use his powerful techniques in battle again. Finally, if you don’t eat the egg (for health points) in Earthbound quickly enough, it hatches, and you’re left with a chick taking up a precious spot in your inventory. That’s just great.

Doggie: What are the best video game canines? And what are your favorite Mega Man bosses?

Jed Pressgrove: The best video-game canine is … not Dogmeat in the Fallout series. While I like him (especially in the first two Fallout games), he can die permanently, and he’s not that versatile. I prefer the dog in Secret of Evermore. He’s with you for most of the game (in one sequence, you get to play as him alone), he changes forms as you travel to different worlds, he’s powerful, and he locates items for you. I also like Interceptor for his random combat behavior in Final Fantasy III (SNES), and Rush in Mega Man 6 is incredible in how he fuses with Mega Man to give you a jetpack or power armor.

It’s hard for me to pick a favorite Mega Man boss from the classic series. I think the best Mega Man bosses are in some of the more modern games. Chill Penguin from Mega Man X is great. I like his little laugh and his variety of attacks. And if you count Mighty No. 9 as a Mega Man game in spirit, I have to mention Countershade, who spews anti-human and anti-government rhetoric as he snipes at you throughout his stage, and Avi, who speaks in an obnoxious news-reporter style.

Loaded Questions Vol. 3

Loaded Questions is a new weekly feature at Game Bias. If you have a question you would like to submit, please email it to pressgrove84@yahoo.com or tweet it to @jedpressfate. Questions can cover anything closely or tangentially related to video games or art, including but not limited to criticism, culture, and politics. Questions may be edited for clarity.

Question 1

Ryan Aston: What do you think is the all-time worst game you’ve ever had the misfortune of playing, and how far did you play through it? Articulate why you consider it to be the worst, be it unplayably broken, thematically offensive/incoherent, or whatever. Same question for all-time worst movie you’ve seen.

Jed Pressgrove: There are so many candidates for the worst game I’ve ever played. For instance, there’s Messiah the Healer, a free game at Game Jolt that trivializes the miracles of Jesus Christ. Then there’s Pregnancy, which, as I said in my review here, uses “in-detail rape to hook you into a shallow lecture on abortion debate.”

But the king of bad games is Ryan Lambourne’s The Slaying of Sandy Hook Elementary. To make a point about gun control, this game allows the player to assume the role of Sandy Hook murderer Adam Lanza and shoot as many kids and teachers as possible at the elementary school. Afterward, the player must start over and use a sword to try to kill the same number of people. The idea is that, naturally, you wouldn’t be able to kill as many people with a sword, thus identifying gun control as the answer to the issue. Lambourne doesn’t consider, however, that his point will be lost on anyone with a shred of respect for the real-life victims of the crime. What decent person wants to reenact real-world carnage and tragedy, especially when it’s obvious that Lambourne is pushing propaganda and hoping to be seen as an important game developer?

As for worst movie, that’s easy. I have to go with an atrocious Japanese film my friend got me to watch: Killer Pussy. The name says enough, but to go into more detail, the story concerns a woman with a parasite in her vagina that kills people. If the concept alone isn’t enough to disgust you, everything about this movie is terrible. The most laughable part of the film is the special effects. In certain scenes, the parasite is depicted with the worst CGI you can imagine. In other scenes, the parasite is a puppet. I doubt Jim Henson would be a fan.

Question 2

Erlend Grefsrud: Do you see games as expressions or contrivances? Elucidation: expression is “communicating an intelligible intent,” while contrivance is “struggling to cohere.”

Jed Pressgrove: My first instinct was to say that a contrivance can be an expression (a bad one). But based on the two specific definitions here, I’d say the majority of games seem more like contrivances than expressions. We can see this in the way games often awkwardly transition between cutscenes and actual play. We can see this in the way games frequently tutorialize, suggesting that developers struggle to present rules and ideas intuitively. I suppose I could go on and on. I feel a lot of my reviews have an underlying anger about contrivances.

There is one thing I want to point out in light of recent dialogue about Far Cry 5. I agree with the critics who suggest Far Cry 5 is a contrivance. At the same time, just because something is a contrivance doesn’t mean it lacks ideology. In addition to the right-wing ideology I discussed in my review, Far Cry 5 also pushes a conservative game-design ideology that favors contrivance over expression. It’s interesting to me that many critics who dismiss Far Cry 5 as a contrivance are willing to accept an ideology of contrivance in other games when it suits their desires and worldviews.

Question 3

Martina Eva: Do you think there’s any potential left in the classic graphic adventure format?

Also, where do you think game criticism is heading?

Jed Pressgrove: Yes, there is definitely potential left, but developers have to play a careful balancing act. Mere homage to the genre is not good enough anymore, and to play off the point about expression and contrivance above, special care has to be taken with how, for example, puzzles are designed. Tim Schafer’s Broken Age both illustrates the potential of the genre and the pitfalls that developers should avoid. Broken Age is split into two games. The first game (or Act 1), in my estimation, is fairly brilliant. Act 1 of Broken Age allows the storytelling to dictate the puzzles. This approach gives the game an organic quality, and because of this, the story in Act 1 is able to make a powerful statement about how gender and race can divide us and bring us crashing together when we least expect it. Schafer, unfortunately, pisses all this potential away in Act 2, which features one contrived puzzle after another. It’s clear that Schafer backed away from his more creative instincts when he made Act 2.

Your second question is tough! There are a lot of critics out there, so you never know who might capture people’s imagination. But right now, I fear game criticism is headed toward more deception and marketing. Specifically, I think you’re going to see a lot more critics who claim to be more analytical than the obvious game-enthusiast movement, but instead of catering to people who worship games, they will cater to particular political factions. Now, I’m not saying game criticism shouldn’t be political, but there is a difference between the following two things: (1) the personal politics of the critic coming out as part of their creative expression within the art form of criticism and (2) the critic functioning as a lackey for a particular political persuasion. A critic in either case can be “liberal,” for example, but the second type will almost always fall on the most obvious, pandering side of liberalism. The second type will also be far less willing to consider the artistic merit of work that doesn’t cater to their political faction’s whims. The disgusting part is that game companies are becoming increasingly aware of this unexamined bias, and they’re ready to exploit critics with politicized marketing. Look at how Bethesda’s marketing for Wolfenstein II: The New Colossus panders to the “Punch a Nazi” crowd. Look at how games keep overusing the word “resistance.” Look at how the developer of Kingdom Come: Deliverance implies that a lack of racial diversity automatically equates to “historical accuracy.” Instead of ignoring this type of marketing altogether, many critics want to be a part of the publicity, whether good or bad, and they’re ready to redraw the lines that divide us, all in the name of ego and success.

Question 4

Adam Eisentrout: Was there one specific game that made you want to be a game critic or write specifically about gaming?

Jed Pressgrove: If I must boil it down to one game, it would have to be Blazing Lazers. It wasn’t the first game I wrote about, but it was the one that made me want to be a dedicated game critic. I first played Blazing Lazers after I had become a bit jaded about video games, and its brilliance showed me that sometimes you have to search for greatness rather than expecting it to show up for you in the popular channels. On a very basic level, Blazing Lazers made me excited to write about games.

Loaded Questions Vol. 2

Loaded Questions is a new weekly feature at Game Bias. If you have a question you would like to submit, please email it to pressgrove84@yahoo.com or tweet it to @jedpressfate. Questions can cover anything closely or tangentially related to video games or art, including but not limited to criticism, culture, and politics. Questions may be edited for clarity.

Question 1

Taylor Vaughn: What games handle religion/religious belief (either real or fictional) in an interesting way as part of the gameplay (rather than just a theme)?

Jed Pressgrove: There are three main examples that come to mind (from weakest to strongest): The Shivah, Proteus, and Earthbound.

The Shivah is a 2006 point-and-click adventure in which you play as Russell Stone, a Jewish Rabbi who has lost hope and made questionable decisions regarding his congregation. He becomes a detective of sorts when he learns that a former member of his synagogue has been murdered. As in many other point-and-click adventures, you engage in dialogue as the protagonist, and when it’s your turn to respond to a character, the game gives you a few optional lines, one of which is always labeled a “Rabbinical response.” Although I like what developer Dave Gilbert was going for here, this element, which results in a rhetorical question from Stone if I recall correctly, often comes off as contrived or merely amusing. Do note, however, that many critics went ga-ga over Mass Effect’s stilted dialogue choices, as if they were innovative rather than reductive, when it was released in 2007. The Shivah’s handling of this approach was superior to Mass Effect’s.

Many critics see Proteus as a “walking simulator” or “first-person walker” or “non-game.” These are childish labels that trivialize the spiritual daringness of the game, which uses walking and flying to situate the idea of being a Christian disciple and lover of creation in a mythical context (Proteus was the name of a Greek sea god). People frequently recall the main section of Proteus in which you interact with different forms of life on an island. But at the beginning of Proteus, you’re literally walking on water, just as Peter wanted to do with Jesus in the Gospels, before you get to the island. After you start traversing the island, you can eventually move time forward and experience all four major seasons. During the final season, you ascend to the heavens, which, in terms of play, is a major departure from the walking and running you’ve grown accustomed to. It’s an ending of joy that evokes the concept of eternal salvation.

Last but not least, Earthbound’s climax involves a worldwide prayer to defeat an enemy who seems unbeatable. As Paula, the lone female hero of the main party, you could always pray during battle for a random effect, in the game’s joking way. Thus, I never prayed as Paula because of the unpredictability. But when you reach the final battle, you throw everything you can at Giygas, the final boss, and he just keeps surviving and growing more dangerous. The first few times I fought Giygas, I failed because I assumed I could beat him through normal attacks. Then, during one session, it hit me: why not try praying with Paula? It was the only thing I hadn’t tried in previous attempts.

Initially, prayer only does a little damage to Giygas, but as you perform the action round after round, the game cuts to other places of the world where characters you had met sense that they need to pray as well, and the damage steadily increases. By the final time you pray, you’re inflicting massive damage to Giygas, who fades away. Through this unique take on turn-based combat, Earthbound suggests that spiritual unity can help humanity overcome its worst fears and obstacles.

Question 2

Jim Bevan: Has your opinion changed on any games that you were initially very positive or negative towards?

Jed Pressgrove: Yes. The best example of either case was my experience with Final Fantasy Tactics many years ago before I left home for college (I’m 33, for those keeping score). I remember trying to get into it twice and quitting out of frustration both times. Although I started playing turn-based RPGs at around the age of 7, I wasn’t as familiar with the turn-based tactical genre, and Tactics is unrelenting if you don’t think more defensively. I thought it was a miserable excuse for a Final Fantasy game. Thankfully, I tried it a third time and was blown away by everything you could do. I liked it so much that despite getting stuck at the save point right before you face Wiegraf/Belias (I didn’t have the right party to win the fight), I started the entire game over (a loss of 20+ hours) just to properly prepare myself for the Wiegraf/Belias fight. Beating that boss was a great feeling when it finally happened.

Question 3

Ian Mossner: What do you think about the timing of your reviews? For example, Kingdom Come: Deliverance recently got a patch. What if you had reviewed the game after the patch? Your review would have been entirely different.

Another example: upon release, Dragon Ball FighterZ was unfinished, but now that certain elements have been added, if you were to review it, the criticism of it being unfinished could not be repeated by you.

Another example: in your review of Iconoclasts, you mention a dialogue segment where soldiers engage in “locker room” talk, but that segment has been entirely changed based on my recent playthrough. So people who play it now will not experience what you did.

So I guess my question is how important is timing in your reviews?

Jed Pressgrove: It can be important because it can give me the opportunity to show my values as a critic and human being. One of my beliefs is that if you’re going to sell a physical or digital thing, it should be finished. Bottom line, end of story. I don’t care if you’re talking about a car, a song, a shirt, whatever. I grew up in a poor working-class family, so I know how precious money can be. People should finish their work before selling it to anyone. Otherwise, it’s a ripoff, and it shows me that you, as a creator, have little respect for yourself, other people, and the state of the working class.

Here’s one tricky part: what is “finished”? With video games, if the game is in an alpha or beta stage, it’s unfinished. I’m against playing and reviewing early-access titles for this reason. I don’t want to pay for or play anything unfinished, and I don’t want to encourage other people to do it, either, because early access is a bullshit trend that needs to stop.

Although Kingdom Come: Deliverance wasn’t an early-access game on the day of its release, it might as well have been. I can forgive a glitch here and there. I can forgive some imperfections (though I can and will criticize those imperfections). But if just about every part of your game suggests that you didn’t put in the work to release the game in a state that wouldn’t rip off someone, you’re just as bad as the early-access grifters, and your game more than likely looks and plays like crap. And honestly, even though you mention a new patch in your question, I’m still not convinced my review would be that different. There was a patch for the PS4 version before my review was published, and the game still suffered from everything I mentioned in the review. That team of developers is so inept that I have no faith in the game.

But let’s assume Kingdom Come: Deliverance wasn’t the biggest technical failure that I played since last year’s abominable Troll and I. My review would have focused more on the game’s story and attention to realism. Based on what I could gather through my glitch- and bug-ridden experience, the game was still nothing to write home about on any front. From this angle, timing may not matter as far as whether I like the overall game or not, but it would certainly affect the thrust of my essay. Perhaps my review of Kingdom Come: Deliverance would have been more cultural or political in nature.

I haven’t played Dragon Ball FighterZ, so I can’t comment on it specifically. I will say that the trend for fighting games to be “live services” is annoying. The fighting game community never shuts up about tiers and unfairness, so as long as the cycle of player whining and patching continues, who knows what fighting games will look like. At the same time, I have played well more than 100 fighting games, so I can often spot a substandard example of the genre when I play it, even when it receives frequent patches, like Street Fighter V. With this in mind, timing of reviews might be less important for certain genres.

Your example of Iconoclasts is interesting and presents a different kind of potential dilemma. Changed dialogue can change one’s interpretation of a game’s theme or message. So timing in such a case could be extremely critical. Fortunately, that scene you’re referring to in Iconoclasts, if it is indeed different (I haven’t been able to confirm it yet due to my busy schedule), doesn’t play a significant role in my overall interpretation of the game. I just thought it was a fascinating scene that deserved to be mentioned in a largely descriptive sentence.