More Fun Than Good

I don’t remember when it was, but do I remember being puzzled by Jeff Canatta on the Weekend Confirmed podcast when he claimed a game to be “more fun than it was good.” It took some explanation even to the rest of his podcast crew for them (and the listener) to understand his meaning. But since then, the coined phrase has practically become his moniker, and one that I have come to employ.

When it comes to games, you may be familiar with the term “Triple-A.” These are the games that are the flagship titles for publishers, games that get TV advertising, games that multi-sequel franchises are built upon. It doesn’t always mean that they are the best reviewed games, but they are often the most popular in their genre.

What about all those other games? Are there Double-A, Single-A games, etc.? Not really. In today’s environment, games are seldom developed deliberately to start their life as a second- or third-tier title. However, most games do live somewhere in the spectrum from struggling-to-make-a-profit to making-enough-profit-to-risk-a-sequel. When this happens, regardless of game quality, a publisher may start dropping prices early on a title that appears to be lagging in sales. Now, kids games, value-priced games, or games designed for a very specific audience (like hunting games or movie tie-in games) are somewhat review-proof. In other words, they are not always adversely affected by reviews when it comes to sales. Blockbuster games, however, are affected by reviews and word-of-mouth. When a title is priced down to move, it is not often perceived as a must-buy or even must-play experience.

This means that a lot of really interesting games can slip through the cracks. I seem to have a lot of these kinds of games in my collection. Well, it’s more like a pile. A pile that is far too tall, composed of games that have waited far too long to be played. However, from time to time, I get around to one of them. Some are indeed as bad as I feared—while others are little gems that I wish I could have championed at the time. Not surprisingly, these gems are often flawed.

One such game that stuck in my mind recently was Enslaved: Odyssey to the West.

I’m not going to go into a review of the game. Others have done that long ago and far better than I could. I will tell you that I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. It won me over. I found myself rooting for the game itself. “Hey, that battle was fun! Wow, that cut-scene made me feel for that character. . . . Keep being awesome!” Inevitably there would be a glitch or excruciating gameplay scenario in which I would come to understand . . . ”Oh, that’s why they didn’t love you.” But even in all that, the game was like a cute little puppy that did something very wrong. I just couldn’t stay mad at it for long. I was having too much fun in general to care that, at specific times, it wasn’t being very good. That’s when I understood what Jeff Canatta meant.

I almost wish “More Fun Than Good” was a rating, or a special sticker that could be placed on the box. This way, more people would have a chance at discovering and experiencing it. If they did, maybe we could better bolster the games that we want to play before they are lost to obscurity.

Anyone interested in an Enslaved 2?

Falling in LIKE with Windows 8

It’s often part of our human nature to be uneasy with change. But when it comes to Microsoft operating systems, there is a reasonable amount of precedence on which to base this uneasiness. Windows Vista still gives me fits. And now we are stuck with Windows 8.

We all knew that it would be different, even drastically so. The interface looks so much like the Windows phone OS, with its flat meaningless icons and unsettling color palette. Why would Microsoft commit to this direction? It’s not as though the Windows phone was a huge success, or had a significantly large install-base.

Yet even with all those detractions, Microsoft deliberately added one more: making even the most basic interactions non-intuitive…no, counter-intuitive.

I like to think that I am fairly proficient with computers, but when I first started working with Windows 8 I was faced with an operating system that stymied me at times. Experience with previous versions of Windows and even other operating systems failed to give me context. Finding once familiar ways to get the simplest things done became a tedious challenge. I even started trying to navigate through using the Windows Shortcut keys. (That’s typically the symbolic key between the ctrl and alt keys that no one ever uses.) It didn’t make things much better.

Then something happened. It might have been Stockholm Syndrome. Like anyone buying a Windows computer, phone, or gaming system, I was forced to acclimate to Microsoft’s new interface. I dealt with the seven stages of grief and came out achieving acceptance. What caused me to embrace this operating system to which we are now captive?

It was engaging with Windows 8 on a touchscreen. 

Suddenly it made sense. My previous use of smart phones and tablets caused my fingers to interact on their own accord. I got it. What’s more, Window 8 started to change how I regarded traditional peripherals. Using a mouse now seemed cumbersome, as it brought me out of direct engagement with the screen. It was slowing me down. If I could think of using the screen like a tablet with access to a physical keyboard, I was on track. In reality, this was the experience I had actually been wanting for years. The difference was that it came by nontraditional means.

Being an avid PC and console user, I’m quite accustomed to buying hardware based only on the then-nebulous promise of what it can do. By that I mean that there is seldom software at day one that can fully take advantage of the new system’s power: to integrate the unique platform features, or push the device to its limits. With Windows 8, the opposite is true. I think we have witnessed the release of an operating system in search of hardware that was not readily available. Windows 8 absolutely works best in a touchscreen environment. The problem is that not enough touchscreens were present amongst customers. Microsoft did a poor job communicating that this was how they meant it to be used. Unless you were already using it on a Surface or other Windows tablet, it felt like a harsh punishment. As a result,“I just want my Start button back” became a rally cry.

I mentioned that Windows 8 was an operating system that I really wanted without realizing it. This is because I am subject to our cultural phenomenon: a love of tablets. As anyone that owns a tablet can tell you, they are incredibly portable and very useful for accessing information from the internet, viewing all sorts of media, and quickly responding with limited amounts of text. They are a blend of the best aspects of computers and phones, all in one. Of course, unlike a phone, they don’t replace the need for voice and text messaging. And, unlike a computer, they do not replace the ability to run power-intensive programs or facilitate heavy editing and content creation.

In Windows 8, we witness the potential to have the ease of a tablet with the power of a PC. I think in the long run, Microsoft will have been vindicated and not reviled as they are now. As for me, I finally look forward to my Windows 8 experience.

Like I have a choice.