Simplicity: 1HN Better than Realism

Today, a wistful feeling has overcome me. As I see events unfold around me, I am disturbed and deeply saddened by how my beliefs are challenged and I am viewed as anachronistic and a relic for what I believe...

I'm talking about video games, of course...

Granted, some things haven't changed much since I received my first video game console (a Colecovision) thirty years ago. One thing that hasn't changed is the general popularity of video games. Back in the early 80s, Atari, Intellivison, and Colecovision were extremely popular as game commercials dominated the airwaves, store shelves were well-stocked with games, and most of the kids I knew had at least one of those systems. When the Nintendo Entertainment System came out in 1985, it was an even bigger deal; I have indelible memories of ROB the Robot and Excitebike from times I spent at my friend Brian's house. Fast-forward to now, video games are still popular among the young and now the old, as well. Another thing that hasn't changed is how video games can bring disparate social groups together. Whether it be Starcraft across the Internet or a bunch of neighborhood kids huddled around a Wii, video games unify people. A third thing that hasn't changed much is the characters. Thanks to the staying power of such icons as Mario, Sonic, Snake, Samus Aran, the Belmont family, and Earthworm Jim (he's still popular... right?!), the nostalgia of the past lives in the gloss and sheen of the superior graphics and sound of the present.

However, much has also changed with the passage of time. Some may argue that games nowadays are not as "hard," and that you don't need the practice and precision of past games to master today's games; but some may counter and say that games as less "cheesy" than, say, Ninja Gaiden II or Rush 'n Attack (of which I have a fond disdain). Some may opine about the realism of first-person-shooters and how games just seem more violent today, while some may respond that games are no less violent today than 8-bit shooters like Contra or Metal Gear; "It's not that games are more violent, but that they're just more graphic," some may observe. There is also the complexity of games today, in which you can play for hours on end and barely stratch the surface of a convoluted storyline; conversely, you could finish The Legend of Zelda in eight hours or so (which would be insane, but still...).

One cannot argue with the cliche that "the more things change, the more things stay the same." Yet, as I watch the visual and auditory quality of games escalate with improving technologies, and the sheer number of buttons and analog sticks increase with each new in-game function, I am reminded that today's games lack something that past games had in spades: simplicity. Remember the Atari 2600 with its one joystick and one button? I challenge you to find an easier game to learn, but harder game to master on the Wii than Pitfall was on the Atari with just its one button. Remember the NES with its two buttons, or the Sega Genesis with its three buttons? Remember how easy it was for an inexperienced friend to come over and play games with (or against) you on those consoles because the controls were easier to master? I challenge you to train your inexperienced friend about how to play any current EA Sports game on the XBox and its ten buttons...

Besides simplicity, which factors into what I am about to state, games of the past seem lighter by today's standards. Whereas now one can get lost in a game world and not emerge for days, I could play a Genesis game for a couple hours and then walk away and enjoy the rest of my day. In this way, games today are immersive to a fault. Of course, some may argue that The Legend of Zelda or other older RPGs were the same way, but I could walk away after a few hours. Try doing that with Mass Effect or any of those story-based games... It's difficult.

But, the most apparent difference between the games of the past and today's games is the creativity it took to render great games with such comparatively poor resolution. Compare Super Mario Bros. on the NES to Super Mario Bros. on the Wii; obviously, the Wii trumps the NES big time, but think about the limitations those Nintendo programmers had to overcome to render a classic game on the NES. For the Wii, on the other hand, the developers had much more to work with when it came to graphics and sound.

Upon reflection, my wistful feelings about video games come from remembrances of more carefree times with friends in high school or college when we sat around and laughed at buddies messing up in a game, or discussed strategy or if the Genesis or the SNES versions of games were better. I suppose that kids today may look back on 2012 when they're adults and feel the same. The interesting thing I've observed, though, is that there is a fervent attempt to make games simpler with motion capture, as with the XBox Kinect and the Wii's long-in-the-tooth wand-based controls. Perhaps, we are seeing a renaissance of simplicity in gaming, pulling in a new generation of youngsters, but I contend that the retro-charm of jaggedly rendered 8-bit characters will always transcend the smooth textures of today's sprites because, as with many things in this world, we will always look backwards and remember we could walk away from a couple hours (or less) of play and be satisfied, while one often fills the day with gaming today to get their fix. In this way, realism isn't always good, and I am saddened to see that people today put that much stock in the realism afforded to us by stellar graphics and movie-quality sound when video games are best played as a brief escape from reality.

Ecco the Dolphin: 1HN Thinker

In the early 90s, when the Sega Genesis was at the height of its popularity, Ecco the Dolphin showed up as a rather odd bird among the stable of Genesis games. While there were action games like Altered Beast and Strider, as well as sidescrolling speed demons like Sonic the Hedgehog, Ecco came along as the antithesis of those games: ponderous, languid, yet somewhat eerie and unsettling. Ecco the Dolphin was a side-scroller with no platforms, no-power-ups, and no weapons; instead, it featured puzzles, checkpoints that required problem-solving to pass, and maze-like underwater passages that threatened to drown your wayward dolphin if you didn't find air in a timely fashion.

Ecco the Dolphin begins with you as Ecco, blissfully swimming in your lagoon and conversing with other dolphins using echolocation. Suddenly, a unexpectedly terrifying gale whisks your fellow lagoon inhabitants up into a whirlwind, leaving you alone. From there, the game begins with you leaving your lagoon, asking questions of any passerby that you encounter, and progressing from stage to stage by pushing shells with your snout, vanquishing jellyfish or other baddies with said snout, and navigating through tight spaces and wide expanses whilst shooting up to the surface (or into a convenient air pocket) occasionally to replenish your air supply. All of this occurs with the overriding goal of trying to find out where your fellow lagoon compatriots went and why they were abducted.

As a character, Ecco possessed abilities that offered the promise of fun and excitement for the gamer: he could swim at high speed, thump enemies with his snout, execute some cool jumps out of the water, and communicate with a high-pitched blast. Yet, Ecco the Dolphin was strikingly different from many games of the time because of its languid pace and somewhat somber tone, as well as the emphasis on overcoming impeding obstacles. In some ways, this game evoked a feeling that was somewhat similar to some of the zones in the original Metroid on the NES, where you had to search continuously to find that hidden power-up or that passage that would take you to another area, but at a slower, more deliberate pace. Thus, despite the potential for action, the emphasis of Ecco the Dolphin is on your ability to successfully navigate through zones to find answers to questions that become more apparent as the game progresses.

When I bought Ecco the Dolphin in the early 90s, I didn't know what to expect; I just knew that there was much hype about this game on TV and in the magazines I read. After I bought the game and played it for a while, I was impressed by the vibrant graphics, the detailed sprites, and majestic, albeit dated, synthesized music that evokes an unnerving feeling I came to associate with games like Myst. Sure, Myst was a point-and-click game with stills and embedded puzzles, but that uncertain feeling of not knowing where I am going or what I was supposed to do was the same for both games. At the time, I didn't have the patience to complete this epic game, even though it had a password system which would allow me to return to the game later. Nowadays, with a family and a full-time job, Ecco the Dolphin is way down the queue of things I want to do, even on the list of games I allocate time (if I have time) to play.

I recommend this game if you are looking for a game that immerses you (literally) in a strange underwater realm which you must explore armed only with your wit and a boatload of patience. For kids, this may also be a good game because the game requires problem-solving, the violence is only for survival (such as when smacks of jellyfish drift into your path), the focus on marine life may spark an interest in the sea and its flora and fauna, and the pace isn't a sugar-soaked, frenetic one. If anything, Ecco the Dolphin compels you to appreciate the nuanced graphics and sound inherent to the game. My only caveat is that (spoiler alert!) aliens play a role in this game; if you are wary of the concept of the supposed existence of aliens, you may want to speak with your children before playing Ecco the Dolphin.