It may be fair to say that all Metal Gears up to and including MGS2 had similar design agendas. They were attempts to model, at increasingly levels of complexity, the core concepts of military espionage. Basic things like sneaking around, taking down enemies silently, and what to do when they found you were the main things being experimented with and revised. This all changes with MGS3.
Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater (PS2 2004) on the surface seems much like MGS2. It has the same basic controls, the same mechanics of sneaking, of holding enemies at gunpoint. It has the same enemy alert phases from MG2, with their expanded enemy behavior from MGS2. It has the choking from MGS1, and (in a fashion) the same radar system. MGS3 reshuffled these familiar elements, however, giving them new meaning in a different context. A lot of it grew out of a decision to partially remove the radar, by breaking it up into two separate radars that (thanks to finite battery life) could not be used indefinitely. The radar first introduced in MG2 and revised in MGS1 showed enemy position, movement, and terrain with 100% accuracy. The radars in MGS3 showed neither terrain nor enemy vision. One showed moving life forms; the other stationary life forms. And since screens in MGS3 (thanks to its wilderness setting) were filled with animals as well as enemy soldiers, using these radars became a game of detective work, one that required cross-referencing with the player's knowledge of the current terrain and its wildlife. If the difference between soldiers and animals could not be determined, the player's directional mic (which could hear footsteps) was often the only way to definitively tell. The directional mic was introduced in MGS2, where it had limited, special-case application. In MGS3 it became part of the player's core gameplay vocabulary. Unlike MGS2 the player began the game with the directional mic, which made listening a new core action at the player's disposal. By limiting the player's ability to see, but enhancing their ability to hear, MGS3 made the process of simply finding enemies a major aspect of play.
Fighting an invisible enemy--of finding them before they found you--became the defining tension of play, which gave the expanded enemy interrogation mechanics a whole new value. Interrogation went from a cheap way to get items (in MGS2) to the primary mode of gaining gameplay-related information in MGS3. The choke action from MGS1 was retooled to be non-lethal: now a grabbed enemy could be squeezed for info. A chatty enemy could give away the positions of his comrades, which showed up on a sub-screen map. This effectively recreated the same radar information enjoyed in past games, though only after significant thought and planning. Discovering enemy positions in order to avoid (or subdue) them was much more important in MGS3 because the alert phases were much, much longer. Enemies would now search for a matter of minutes, not seconds. Even if the player escaped with their life, they were punished by having to wait for an agonizingly long time for enemy units to perform their sweep-and-clear patterns. Impatience could result in endless chases and gunfights over a wide variety of terrain. And although the player could sometimes call off an alert using the enemy's radio frequency (another useful bit of info that could be procured through interrogation) the only surefire way to achieve your objectives was patiently shaking down soldiers for field info, until you were 100% certain your imaginary map of the situation matched reality.
Interacting with these re-tooled old systems were MGS3's new systems, namely its camouflage and stamina systems. The camo system allowed the player to change Snake's outfit at any time, into a variety of patterns and colors. The closer the pattern and color was to the texture Snake was currently on (grass, gravel, tree bark, mud, sand, etc.) the higher the "camo index". An index of 0 was total visibility. An index of 100 was total invisibility. What was interesting about this system is how it reconfigured the entire game map in an instant based on the player's chosen camo. Similar to Ikaruga, which involved as its principle player action the inversion of hot (dangerous) and cold (safe) space, MGS3 offered players the strategic affordance of deciding for themselves what spaces would be hot or cold. A tree trunk was as perfect hiding place in tree bark camo; a horrible one in snow camo. In past Metal Gear games the configurations of hot and cold space were always fixed, and this fluidity made MGS3 a different strategic animal than other games. It wasn't about finding safe spots so much as creating them, something which was only made possible by its organic (and often vast) wilderness environments. Although there were a few indoor locations that required the symmetrical, ordered thinking of past games, most spaces in MGS3 were messy and sprawling. Some screens contained acres of chaotic, tangled undergrowth, where textures and colors mixed and swirled together in crazy ways. Learning to read and exploit the potential of the natural world was really the main challenge of MGS3. Both you and your enemies were at its mercy, rendered obscure by its twisty madness. Using nature better than your foe (who were also somewhat camouflaged but, unlike you, couldn't change their camouflage) was the order of the day, and it meant the difference between success and failure.
The theme of wilderness survival reached much farther than just manipulating visibility (and therefore combat advantage). It was also woven into the mechanics of health, which departed sharply from past Metal Gear games. Health was no longer replenished by healing items. The player had to wait for their health to recover naturally over time, which was essentially an expansion of the bleeding-recovery mechanic from MGS2. Like bleeding had previously, overall health in MGS3 would recover faster if the player lied still. Lack of stamina would also impede health recovery, as well as cause a host of other ill conditions. Like the directional mic, MGS3's stamina meter was a core game system generalized from a past game's special-case function. It was essentially a re-tooling of the grip meter from MGS2, which governed how long a player could hold onto a ledge. Unlike the grip meter, the stamina meter was on-screen at all times, and would deplete for a variety of reasons. Running, swimming, fighting, hanging, or just natural hunger: all these things would make stamina deplete. Low stamina caused not only slower health regeneration but also diminished aiming ability. The screen would shudder while in first-person mode, making it harder for the player to perform effectively in battle. All this necessitated catching and eating the live animals littered throughout MGS3's wild world. Only by eating the right animals (and avoiding the wrong ones) could the player maintain their health and their physical combat performance.
Far from being just a localized mechanic, eating and stamina in MGS3 was a global system that governed all human behavior, not just Snake's. All enemies had stamina, which depended on stores of food rations scattered throughout the wilderness. Sneaking into and blowing up one of these store houses would cause all enemies in the nearby area to starve, giving them all the same low-stamina effects you would suffer under similar conditions. Their aim became worse, and a single punch would cause them to fall unconscious. Destroying the enemy's non-food resources was another way to manipulate their behavior. Blowing ammo stores made them less likely to waste bullets unless they had a clear shot. This, combined with the fact that enemy soldiers would not shoot a comrade you were holding, gave shrewd players enormous leverage should they find themselves cornered by an group of numerous--but tired and under-equipped--enemies. Taking a hostage, backing towards an exit, and then making a break for it as the few bullets your opponents had missed you by a mile was just one way to bend these logics to your ever improvisational advantage.
Metal Gear Solid 3 is a great example of existing game mechanics reconfigured to create a different game from its predecessors. With the core mechanics of military espionage more or less solidified after MGS2, MGS3 feels like a conscious experiment to explore new flavors of (rather than just better or more complicated) stealth gameplay. It does this by focusing on a setting and a theme, and allowing that setting and theme to both inspire new mechanics and reshape existing mechanics. As a result MGS3 is a game about wilderness survival as much as it is a game about sneaking behind enemy lines, a fact that can be felt coherently in every aspect of its design. This man versus nature conflict, embodied globally in the game system, might explain why enemy soldiers seem a bit more human than before, for now they are unambiguously subject to the same forces as the player. In many games the rules that govern non-player characters and those that govern player-characters are different, but in this game they are the same. Understanding this, that your foe contains all the same human frailties you do, is your key to to defeating him in MGS3's unforgiving world. As we'll see, this gradual humanization of the enemy will only increase as the series progresses.




See, you're making me interested in these games again. It's just such a shame I just cannot get into them. The bizarrely esoteric Japanese plot and characters mean I just can't take the game seriously (Revolver Ocelot? For real?). And I'm too much adjusted to modern games, with their in-game tutorials, recharging health, checkpoints, etc. That, and PS1 games look awful on my HDTV. So many obstacles to approaching these older games...
ReplyDeleteI would argue that the weirdly-named Japanese characters are really no different from those found in Western comic books. I mean, we have characters called "Magneto" and "Batman" but I (and I'm sure you as well) know plenty of people who take at least some incarnations of those stories seriously.
ReplyDeletePS1 games look great on the PSP, actually, so if you want to try any now I'd actually recommend that platform over any others. As for "modern" games having checkpoints, health regeneration, etc. not all of them do. Those are certain conventions that have become common in certain genres, but they hardly apply to all games. I think they are perfectly valid conventions, but I don't see them as somehow more "advanced" than others. They are just different, the same way 2D and 3D graphics or b/w and color film is different.
Yeah, but I'm accustomed to Magneto and Batman, and those names come from a cultural and historical context I'm familiar with. 'Revolver Ocelot' just comes across to me as a Japanese designer reaching for a name in English that sounded cool to him, without really considering how ridiculous it sounds to a native speaker. There's a whole lot of exoticism around Western culture in Japanese games, that distances me personally from them, and makes it hard for me to engage with them without constantly questioning it.
ReplyDeleteCheckpoints, regenerating health and the like are conventions that have been pretty widely adopted in most Western console games over the past decade. I feel they're conventions that make games more accessible because they allow the player to learn to play the game in the process of playing the game, without being subjected to Skinnerian punishments for mistakes. When I play a game these days, I want to explore it, not be zapped for stepping off the one correct path.
I fully admit that's a function of my changing tastes, as I remember spending hours and hours in my teenage years playing exactly the kind of games I find unapproachably repetitive and punishing today. But mostly my tastes have been shaped by the conventions of modern games. Just as older films may seem slower-paced or even dull to a viewer accustomed to the faster pacing that's become commonplace in more recent films.
Well... it seems that what you call "modern games" I call "Xbox games aimed at the 18-35 male demographic". Maybe that sums up the difference in our worldviews. :)
ReplyDeleteI am curious about one thing, though. I would expect a game scholar to be less dismissive of games based on historical or cultural difference. You seem to be very much speaking as a gamer here, so I wonder if you feel your scholarly pursuits are ever hindered by your professed inability to play/appreciate older games or (some) games from other cultures?
Ooh, I think that's a little harsh. A lot of the stuff I'm talking about, in-game tutorials and checkpoints, for example, have been adopted by a wide range of games that don't match that description. I'd venture to suggest that the majority of console games today employ one or both of those, and that includes games aimed at children, casual games, etc. I'd also point out that MGS4 uses checkpoints and an in-game tutorial.
ReplyDeleteNevertheless, I don't actually consider the "Xbox games aimed at the 18-35 male demographic" label to be as derogatory as all that. They sell big. A lot of people play them. And that demographic is still hugely influential, statistics that lump Farmville and Bejeweled players in with Crysis and Halo players in a wide smear of demographics to create a media-friendly definition of 'gamers' whose gaming habits have little in common notwithstanding. There's nothing about these games that makes them less worthy of study. And I'd also point out that the MGS games have always been aimed at the 18-35 console gamer demographic.
Further, I think that accessibility is a crucial design goal, and that the things I'm talking about are mostly concessions to accessibility. They're things that make the game more playable to those who don't already know the rules. Accessibility is of huge concern to games studies for any number of reasons, not least of which is that I don't believe games studies itself should be restricted to those who are good at games. :)
I hadn't intended to be as dismissive as I obviously came across. In regard to, for example, the exoticism around Western culture in Japanese games that often verges on Occidentalism, I think this is something that is accepted a little too uncritically in lauding games like the MGS series. There are undeniable innovations in game design in the series, and those elements are fascinating to me, which is why I keep trying to go back to these games. As a gamer though, I find them very unapproachable, for the reasons I've discussed earlier.
But I *am* a gamer, and it's being a gamer that got me into games studies in the first place. Me-as-gamer is inseparable from me-as-games-scholar, in the same way a film scholar is also filmgoer and a literature scholar is also a reader. I play the games that interest me, and this informs my scholarship. I do think a games scholar must have exposure to a wide range of games, and naturally I make every effort to play widely, as my Raptr profile can attest. :) But as games scholars, we must do things that interest us. There's no point taking on a project that doesn't interest you. Not everything is going to interest every games scholar, just as - if not simply because - not every game will interest every player.
I do feel that my scholarly pursuits are hindered by the difficulty I have in playing certain times of games, but I don't think that difficulty is necessarily tied to the age or culture of origin of the game. There are certain trends that are observable in certain periods of game design, and certain game design cultures though. But this also goes back to what I said earlier, about how I don't believe games studies should be restricted to those who are good at games.
I've spent a lot of time defending myself, but I hadn't meant to be as antagonistic as I seem to have come across. My major intention was simply to point out the barriers to accessibility for those accustomed to contemporary Western game design.