Showing posts with label Game review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Game review. Show all posts

Wednesday, 31 May 2017

De Strijd der Robots, boardgame.
As promised I am back to SemioNerd to share some stuff about games. My dissertation is finished and will be defended bravely by me the 8th of June at my Alma Mater in Turin, Italy.
Today, however, I'll write a few lines about an interesting 1978 boardgame that I just unpacked. I can't say that I am a great fan of unboxing videos (or vicarious thrills from opening new gear). I like boxes as the next guy (I've a hidden folder full of pictures found on the Internet of my old Lego and Playmobil toys) I just do not care much about the unboxing. For this game, however, the situation was different. But let's proceed in order.

Few days ago I was in Copenhagen for the Boardgame Studies Colloquium, a rather nice event full of interesting people - scholars, game designers, collectors, game historians. In one of the sessions game designer Fred Horn dedicated his lecture to "Metropolis - Der Srtijd der Robots" a Dutch boardgame of 1978 by Jaap de Jager and R. Zielschot that Horn claims being the first real Sci-Fi boardgame ever made. The history of the design and publication of this game is complex and full of drama, truly fascinating - or so they tell me.
Yes, because (undoubtedly thanks to some Murphy's law) while Horn was giving his presentation in a room, I was in another room, giving my presentation. When I interrogated my fellow participants they gave me passionate, but vague and contradicting, reports about the game's story.
Nevertheless, even if I wasn't able to attend to the lecture I still got a copy of the game. Fred Horn got several of them from the game designer son (or something similar) and was so nice to give them away at the conference, so I got my very own.
In the next days I grew attached to the game, mainly because I has several days to spend abroad and no luggage to put it in. The game is rather large, 43x34x3 cm, and therefore I could not open the plastic wrap of the game to see what was inside, otherwise it would have been impossible to transport it around under my arm. For several days, then, I wandered in my Copenhagen hostel, in the city airport and then in Berlin and Potsdam and in the airport again all the way home with my sealed copy of Metropolis.
If my apparel indeed draw some curious looks at the check-in counters, still my curiosity of the content of the game was even stronger. So, once finally at home, first thing I did was unwrapping that damn game!


Inside it were a board with a printed map of land and see (10x10 squares of land and 5x10 squares of sea), a manual and 120 plastic figures depicting, in blue and red a set of land, air and sea vehicles with perfect 1970s style. 




The next day I decided to try it, in lack of better opponents, playing against myself. The rules of the game are rather straightforward: every player has 4 metropolises (3 on land and 1 on sea), the first one to capture two of the from the enemy wins.
The game starts by positioning all the figures on the map, that then appears rather crowded.

As the figures has different values, both in combat and for movements, I suppose that this first phase can decide much of the game and the fact that Red has to position all its figures before Blue might be an advantage for the latter. I'm still too new to the game to say it for certain, though.
Once the battlefield is filled with figures each turn players can move one figure on the board. This might seem slow, but in fact it's quite intriguing, as the players has to fight contemporarily on several fronts, without loosing track of their troops. As I played alone, I ended up resolving the sea battle first, and only when Red had an undisputed control of the eastern part of the map I proceeded to continue the battle on land.
The game, mutatis mutandis, often feels similar to chess: several situations of stale are formed, in which the first one to move one of its pieces will loose the confrontation. Protecting one most powerful units bu moving them cautiously and always protecting the square they are in, might be an unavoidable part of every winning strategy.
Several times I had the feeling that there were too many useless figures, too weak to confront the stronger ones, that were just occupying space or be destroyed in series by the artillery. Again, this might be a flaw of my playing and not of the game, only time will tell.
After more or less half an hour of play Red lost all its heavy tanks and was therefore unable to win the game. After keeping Blue in check for some time, its defence failed and two of its metropolises were occupied. 


The overall gameplay is rather smooth and fun, a part for some time spent checking the rulebook trying to figure out which figure moves in which way (there are 26 different types of them). It has a nice retro taste, without the poor rule design that was unfortunately pretty common at the time. The art is also pretty nice and goes well with the retro-sci-fi theme (maybe we need a word for that, like for steampunk? Or it already exist?).
Next objective: play with someone else than me, myself and I!

Monday, 19 October 2015

Schiaffi&Fagioli: a Spaghetti western videogame tribute to Bud Spencer and Terence Hill.

I just finished to play the brief & funny demo of Spaghetti & Fagioli (Slaps and beans), created in only a month (!) as an entry of IndieVault Spaghetti Western Jam.
The game is inspired by the Italian s-w film They call me trinity, a true masterpiece and cult film (you can hear it's theme song form Franco Micalizzi at the end of Tarantino's Jango Unchained), one of the best of the couple Bud Spancer / Terence Hill.


I vividly advice you to download the demo, or to watch it's video: it is an amazing mix of good pixel art, inspiration and very hard (and quick!) work.


 However, They call me Trinity is not the only film quoted in the demo... maybe it is the 21st October 2015, but I think I spotted something... anachronistic in the beautifully pixelated western city of Schiaffi & Fagioli...

Wednesday, 16 July 2014

When Mistakes make Bestsellers.
Two days ago a friend of mine wrote me: “check The Red Solstice on Steam, it seems interesting”. I did and it was: an early-access indie co-op game, created by Croatian developer Ironward. And the price is good: $19.99 with a 40% early access discount that makes it $14.99. For two copies. The price is really good. Maybe too good...
Apparently the price was intended for one copy, and a mistake on Steam made it the price for two! The news circulated quickly, also because the mistake was to be corrected the very next day. Many hungry gamers rushed to buy the underpriced game, and the developers had to give new extra keys to their supporters on Kickstarter to make up for the mistake.
Good day for gamers, bad day for developers? Not really: El Oschuro, one of the developers made an announcement on steam, saying that The Red Solstice had been on the Steam Top ten the all week and had 1,000 current players all the weekend. Not bad at all, even less for an indie!
Maybe it could seem that the mistake meant a big loss of money for the developers, but I'm convinced that all the buzz around the game will end up as a very big advertising campaign, and that having a huge lot of people playing a co-op game (that is actually pretty good) will result in a lot more potential buyers in the future.
If so, Ironward will have to thank Steam for the happy mistake...



Friday, 4 July 2014

1000 Days of Syria.
According to Huizinga's Homo Ludens, war shares many characteristics with play. Undoubtedly war games are one of the widest games genres, ranging from chess to Call of Duty, counting thousands of titles. In an age of relative peace it has become clear that enjoying war in a playful way has nothing to do with raising young soldiers, but covers, more likely, a metaphoric function representing everyday struggles against life, at work, at school and in family.
War in games is often fictional, and even when it's inspired by a real war it is represented in a very stereotypical way. That's why the Nazis are so widely exploited in games and fiction: they are perfect example of stereotypical villains in the real world.
Reality is more complicated and real contemporary wars are a very delicate subject that can't be handed lightly. War games set in conflicts still happening would be politically incorrect, disrespectful or even dangerous.
On the other hand games about ongoing conflicts can be very interesting and instructive. It's the case of 1000 days of Syria a text based historical fiction game. The author, journalist Mitch Swenson, has been in Syria in September 2013 and what he saw was so enormous confronted to the lack of interest for this conflict in the West, that he had to do something. That's how 1000 Days of Syria is born.
Says Swenson: “My intention is neither to entertain players with, nor benefit from, the deaths that have resulted from the instability in Syria. In fact my aim is just the opposite. Sometimes the word "game" can be misconstrued into something that seems removed and reductive in the context of real life danger and death. In that way some might say that 1000 Days of Syria should not be considered a game at all, but rather an interactive education. That is for you to decide.
I played this game, this “exercise in transmedia storytelling, part electric literature; part newscast; and part choose-your-own-adventure” and it literally broke my heart. It is not particularly pathetic, or tragic, if so it wouldn't work. It is simple and sincere and with its clean narrative can make you feel and live the Syrian war. When the game starts you cross the Syrian border. And with “you” I mean the player, not his or her character. What you see after the crossing will never leave you, it will follow you at the end of the game and accompany you in your everyday life, wherever you live. 1000 Days of Syria is an overwhelmingly immersive game or, at least, it has been to me.

Mitch Swenson is reluctant to call hi creature a “game”, word that too often is associated to something opposite to “serious”. In my opinion serious games like this are probably the better way to look and understand conflicts that, even if far away, can be also very close.


I would like to thank Gabriele Ferri for suggesting me 1000 Days of Syria.

Wednesday, 4 June 2014

ibb and obb

Few days ago I bought on Steam the quite new indie game. Created by Sparpweed Games, it is a puzzle platform game strongly oriented to co-op. The graphics are simple and cute and the game is quite relaxing even if sometimes quite hard. The most interesting feature of this game is that it presents a world with a bidirectional gravity: the two players walk on the two sides of the same platform but upside down.
It is more simple to show that to explain, so here the trailer of the game:



This twofold gravitational environment is the basis for pulling together the two players. Cooperation in games is not always so simple to achieve and many co-op games doesn't involve a lot of real cooperation between players. Ibb and obb is different for two reasons.
The first one is that you can play ibb and obb in two with the same keyboard. On-line gaming has the weird feature of making more simple to play with someone far away that with someone near. When you play ibb and obb you are literally sitting aside your friend, and this create a different kind of relationship with the other player.
The second one is that the whole game has been conceived in a way that forces the players to collaborate, to think and care about each other. Even the system of points has been added in a second stage as an additional spur to cooperation.

I've played ibb and obb with my wife and we both loved the way in which it is a awesome metaphor for marriage. I know for sure that this wasn't the idea of the creators (the initial title of the game should have been “brothers”), but nevertheless it's true. While you play at ibb and obb you should always try to see the world from both points of view (e.g. some portals are accessible only for one of the players and not for the other), you have to be ready to help your partner even when it could seem humiliating (e.g. make the other player climb on your head to reach an high step) and most of all you have to trust him of her completely.

Ibb and obb is not an edugame and is frankly fun, but it proves how video-games, so often criticised, can be a valuable human experience and an occasion for personal growth.

Thursday, 17 April 2014

N7: the Lord is my Shepard.

The Heildelberg Journal of Religions on the Internet has just released a special issue on videogames and religion. One article immediately draw my attention: Joshua and Ita Irizarry's The Lord is My Shepard; Confronting Religion in the Mass Effect Trilogy.
I have a strong emotional link with Mass Effect, that I should explain before going on. Five years ago (or maybe six?) I was at my best friend house and he proposed me to try the last video game he has bought: Mass Effect. I've played less than an hour, but I truly loved it and I decided that I needed it. However it was impossible: I had not the money to buy a computer good enough to play it (my old PC was coughing dust like a locomotive) and I was leaving my home and country for an year of Erasmus, an year that become much longer. Long story short this summer I at last had a new PC f(wedding present) and, as my friend had already bought me the whole trilogy an year before, I finally started to play my beloved Shepard. In all those years I kept in mind her face and history in order to restore her as she was mean to be (yes, my Shepard is a female). In two months I've finished the series and I was in total depression because of the ending.

Now, about this article on ME and religion, I've to say that it is quite enjoyable. It doesn't say anything definitive, but it is really good at tracing any reference to religion in the trilogy, implicit and explicit and it presents a good review of a lot of players' opinions on different issues of the game. I will not make a resume here: even if a bit long it is a really reader-friendly and I'm sure you will enjoy reading it. I have although to make a “Spoiler Alert!” if you did not play the game don't read the paper!

Spoiler Alert! Here the link:

You should probably also stop reading this post, because from now on we will speak about the ending of the trilogy... Do you copy? Ok, let's move on.

The last part of the article, my favorite, focuses on the conclusion of the trilogy and on the very negative response that most of the players had towards it. The paper analyze the “Indoctrination Theory” and wonder if, in fact, the end of the trilogy wasn't that bad, after all, but a sum of all the issues of the game. What if Shepard has finally been indoctrinated and can't complete her mission anymore? What if after years of fighting for free will she will chose to become a Reaper herself or simply to create a bionic galaxy of enslaved peace?
This theory is good enough to answer the criticism about the ending being flat, but I think that it's something else that deeply bothered the players.

Me too, like most of the players, felt quite bad at the end of the trilogy. And I played the better possible ending, I mean, I had the extended cut and Shepard eventually survived! So why was I so deceived? While depressed I was intrigued by my own emotional response and I started to wonder a lot about it.
To understand this deception we have to answer an other question: What's the most involving ans enjoyable feature of ME? In my opinion it is not the fighting, nor the story. They are both great, really great, but that's not it.
It is the social relationships. In Mass Effect NPCs becomes true friends. The player spends a lot of time to talk with them, to protect them, to help them or even to simply listen to them. After every single mission he spends half an hour walking up and down the Normandy, just to be sure that he didn't miss any line from none of them. And, then, when he finally opens the galactic map, he stops and wonder: “did I spoke with Joker?”. He curses, he closes the map and he starts again his tour.
When you play ME the hardest decisions to make are always involving your friends. All the geth will die? Who cares! But wait... you mean... Legion too? Not him, I like him! Not Legion! Let make peace with the geth than... Maybe we can wipe out those bloody quarians, I've never liked them. But... what will Tali think of me if I genocide her race? Oh, bloody hell, I'll have to save the quarians to...
That's how the game works. Those NPCs become really your friends. You know them, you love them. You know exactly what Garrus would say if he was here with you. You know how Liara would laugh at your joke or how bad Joker would dance at your party (almost worse than you, Shepard).
My friend told me that, even if he played the game a dozen times he was never able to kill Wrex. Every time he thought he should, just to see all the different possibilities, and every time he looked his friend in the eyes and couldn't shot.

In London, Shepard has the occasion to say goodbye to all of them, before her last mission. But when the game ends, you don't. You would like to be able to talk to them one last time, even if you have to die, to tell Liara that she will live long enough to find someone else to do blue daughters with, to tell Garrus and Tali that you wish them the brightest future together, to hug Joker and tell him that you are so sorry for Edi but that there was no other way. But you can't.
After the end I felt quite bad for a couple of days, missing my ME friends. Than I found a solution. I'm no programmer but, hey, I have a brain and a good imagination. I closed my eyes and saw a monitor with an electrocardiogram beepping constantly. Liara was near the bed and Dr. Chakwas arrived in an hurry:
<She's waking up> Liara said.
Shepard opened her big black eyes. She had some nasty scars, but you could still recognize her. She immediately looked at Liara and the asari started to cry.

My own ending took half an hour and happened all in my mind, but, well, after that I felt damn good.

Sunday, 13 April 2014

Netrunner.
Two weeks ago a colleague, here in Tartu, invited me to play some card-games together. It isn't simple to find fellow gamers, and when it happens you immediately grasp the opportunity.
This colleague is madly in love with card-games He owns two thousand cards of Star Wars the Card Game, hundreds of Netrunner cards, a dozen of other card-games like Lord of The Rings the Card Game and Call of Chtulu and, of course, something like twelve millions of Magic the Gathering Cards. All this in a dozen of different languages. In my wildest dreams I imagine to shuffle all this cards and play an endless, multi-front game on a table of 20 meters long. With a wheelchair to move more quickly.
Anyway, when I first visited my cardaholic colleague we played Netrunner, and I immediately fell in love with this game. I don't know it enough to say that it is perfect, but I adored both its setting and its gameplay.

©Fantasy Flight Games


The gameplay is quite original because it is an asymmetric game. The two players have different cards, different strategies and different objectives.
On the one hand one play the Runner, an hacker who steal information and escapes the law. If you play the runner you need to steal cards from your opponent, installing software, gaining credits to pay for new hardware and so on.
On the other hand if you play the corporation your goal is to advance enough agendas in order to win. You have to conceal and protect them with ICE: dangerous programs that attack the intruders. If the runner has always to guess, the corporation's strategy is to lie and bluff.


Regarding the setting, it is a Cyberpunk game. As I teenager, out of curiosity, I bought Gibson's Neuromancer without knowing anything of it. The first sentence was love at first sight:
The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel”
I mean, that's it, no need to read anything else. All the cyberpunk genre is concentrated in this incipit. A single metaphor incarnate all the melancholy of a world in which a futuristic, yet malfunctioning, technology is inscribed in the body of ordinary people. After Neuromancer came Burning Chrome, and then nothing was like before.
Even the film Johnny Mnemonic, so awfully bad that it's nearly terrorism, wasn't able to change my mind. And as an Italian I'm proud to mention Nirvana as my favorite cyberpunk movie, one of the last bright example of Italian cinema.
Well, when you play Netrunner you really feel like an hacker, trying to put together enough money to buy good hardware, hoping to avoid been tracked down by the corporations. You patiently install icebreakers and software to penetrate the secrets of the powerful corporation and to hide from the authorities. Run after run you struggle for a better world or just for some more zeros in your bank account.
If you play as a corporation, on the other hand, you start immediately to be paranoid, to obsessively protect everything you own with as much ICE as possible. You start thinking how to trap the hacker, how to burn his/her criminal brain. You bluff, you sidetrack and, when the moment come, you kill, merciless as market laws, and in your spacious office in a crystal tower you erupt in the typical laugh of every villain: “Bwahahahahahaha!”.