Bloodborne: A Return To Hell.

Nothing can prepare you for the seditious trauma inflicted by Bloodborne. With the possible exception of the “Souls” series, “Sekiro” and perhaps “Busby the Bobcat”. Bloodborne is the gaming equivalent of stepping on one of your child’s stray “shopkins”. Shocking. Painful. With both often requiring a private little weep. When I attempted to play Bloodborne a couple of years ago, I just couldn’t get into it. The combat seemed slow. Dodging incoming enemy attacks felt unresponsive. With a barely perceptible delay that enabled combatants an unfair advantage. I just couldn’t adapt. As a result, I gave up. Believing Bloodborne to be just another sadistic fetish popularised in gaming culture.

But I always regretted my impetuous decision. There’s a very Lovcraftian aesthetic to the creatures and architecture that was just so compelling. It’s like “Bram Stokers Batman”, with the masochistic city of “Yharnam” reflecting the same vintage ambience depicted in Gotham City. As well as the questionable sanity of it’s inhabitants that would choose to live there! I think I’ve been so sheltered by asinine tutorials and the obnoxious hand holding that accompanies most lenient adventures. Coddled by a pampered simplicity, into an endeavour so challenging, that it can’t be placated by reducing the difficulty to match your own languorous vigour, which is rather jarring. And it wasn’t until I returned to Bloodborne that I truly appreciated the risk and reward style.

My own personal inhibition is equating “death” with “failure”, when really failure isn’t necessarily the opposite of success, but adjacent. You have to learn from these habitual mistakes. With the games emphasis on gruelling boss fights, it’s imperative that you adapt to the specific methods of your opponent, to ensure that you’re not on the back foot before you’ve even begun. Bloodborne rewards those that are aggressive, utilising resources when necessary without the player becoming reliant on they’re commodities. Of course you can’t just expedite the battle by charging in and hammering the attack button, depleting all of your stamina in the process and leaving you more vulnerable than a black man in a horror movie. There’s a nuance to it. A balance. As well as a great deal of tenacity required.

Sadly the ability to modify attack pattern has been my greatest weakness. I’m interminably debilitated by trepidation. Hindered by an inherent penchant to over think things, stalling any momentum in combat. My Google search history is now littered with serial killer search terms like “How to kill….” and “What’s the best weapon to….”. Only elevating my own apprehensions in defeating a cunning enemy, when you’re watching someone dispatch the “Blood Starved Beast” with ease using a dance mat! It’s very disheartening.

But I’m trying. With a renewed determination, an extensive library of expletives at my disposal and a Rocky IV style training montage, I am confident that within the next 100 attempts I will vanquish thine enemies! Though at this point the “Blood Starved Beast” has indulged in enough of my crimson fluids that I’m suprised it hasn’t slipped into a blood induced coma. Seriously, fuck that thing!

PlayStation Does Exclusives Better Than Xbox. (There, I’ve Said It!)

Where there are consoles, there is division. Where there are competitors, there is war. There will always be the inevitable bias that predictably inflates the languishing antagonism between two inanimate devices. Developed by companies that both attempt to beguile you with flashy incentives and engage in derogatory quips directed at a competitor not just to gain your fealty, but more importantly your money. The “Console Wars” endure with all the arbitrary and shallow hyperbole you’d expect from a couple of infants disputing whose Daddy is better. The whole “Console War” premise is an idly frivolous pursuit fabricated to create unnecessary division between people who play games as a leisurely enjoyed activity. It’s like Tennis fans arguing on forums about which racquet is best. It’s a marketing strategy that serves businesses, not consumers. As you can tell I don’t like to stoke the fires of the perennially irrelevant console war, but I have to say that in this instance I maybe equipped with a rather large tank of petrol when I say that PlayStation does exclusives better, specifically single player.

A controversial statement, sure. A legitimately subjective opinion, absolutely. But one I’m objectively assured is correct, particularly considering the continued success of Sony exclusives. I’ve remained loyal to PlayStation not out of sentiment or some inherent obligation to the brand, but because of its content that has not only stabilised this generation, but thrived. Partnered with talented studios, creating products of flourishing creative freedom, that don’t seem confined by an intrusive hierarchy that demands annual sequels. It’s PlayStation and its contributors that have successfully banished the ignorant rhetoric endorsed by publishers like EA that falsely claim gamers “don’t want single player formats”. Utter garbage EA, as is your appraisal of consumer preference!

You only have to look at the PS4’s solo focused games to see that such myopic attitudes are not only false but damaging to the integrity of creative expression. Just look at what they did to the ambitious Star Wars linear game, the studio developing it and the peerless Amy Hennig?! You have established system sellers like “God Of War”, “Uncharted” and “Ni No Kuni” renewing the profitability of singular play, as well as original games like “Bloodborne”, “Until Dawn” and “Horizon Zero Dawn” forging there own popularity. And it’s evident from these exclusives that by championing single player content, without marginalizing its functionality with pay walls or loot boxes is advantageous for us and financially beneficial for them.

“Horizon Zero Dawn” sold 2.6 million units worldwide in 2 weeks. “Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End” managed 2.7 million in 7 days. And “God Of War” surpassed both by shifting 3.1 million units worldwide, in just 3 days! Would any of these have achieved such illustrious sales if they were fettered with pay to win mechanics? Consumer retention is vital for maintaining a consoles momentum and Sony for all their faults seem to understand that. The simple consumer friendly philosophy of providing traditional quality games that require a substantial one-off payment and distributed without crippling glitches is why the PS4 is still the most desirable choice for the discerning gamer. Exclusive PlayStation games aren’t released incomplete or worse cleaved into smaller, amenable portions so that it can be disseminated over an allotted time for greater financial residuals. Even games like “The Order 1886” though hugely disappointing, at least tried to do something creative and distinct.

Being subservient to a game that releases integral, narrative refining DLC mere months after a games initial release that amends narrative irregularities isn’t just suspect, its devious. But let’s not stray too far into the duplicitous “Destiny” tangent. I’ve laboured on that subject too many times. Though many of the issues such as “loot crates” are colloquial problems for both PlayStation and Xbox, this is a bigger issue for the latter than it is the former. Xbox complacency in relying on familiarity rather than innovation is their primary concern. They can’t just keep flogging “Forza”, “Gears Of War” and “Halo” to attract or retain an audience because fatigue will inevitably kick in, and profitability will eventually diminish.

To me, at the moment at least PlayStation is the partisan of quality, single player experience which is what I personally want. Xbox’s dearth of quality exclusive content is a symptom of a much more potent affliction: trust, or lack thereof. One that can be traced back to its source at the now infamous E3 announcement back in 2013. But why create new exciting ideas when you can continue to expand their own library of games with backwards compatibility. Because the future?

PlayStation has always been my preferred means of gaming. And it’s now more than ever that I can confidently say I’ve made the right choice.

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What do you guys think? How important are exclusive games to you? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.

My First Time With Bloodborne.

Are you sadistic? Do you loathe the comfort of sanity? Have you scoured mountains using just a stick, some gloves and comfortable shoes but wish it were more difficult? Have you been stranded alone on a deserted island, surviving merely on your own cunning? Battling dehydration, sleep deprivation and starvation? Fashioning crude tools from your own dismembered leg bone, harvested of its enveloping flesh, which you carved off with your own elongated fingernails and cauterised in the midday sun? Finally escaping using your own body as a flotation device and swimming 400 miles against tides with crests 100’s of feet high and thinking “That was easier than I thought? Then you Sir/Madam are the ideal candidate to play Bloodborne! Yes you too can explain to your disgruntled neighbours why you’ve been embroiled in a 2 hour argument with your television, with an epitaph of profane language and engaging in a beleaguered fisticuffs with the air!

Available to download for free on PlayStation Plus this month, Bloodborne is, or at least “was” a game I intentionally avoided. Not because I didn’t think I’d enjoy it, but because of the familiar connotations associated with “Dark Souls”, a series that gleefully promotes a distinct challenge to participants that can’t be mitigated by an interchangeable difficulty setting. Essentially I’m not particularly fond of games that mock my ability as a gamer. And considering that the only way I was capable of finishing the original “Devil May Cry” was on easy difficulty, Bloodborne would likely dedicate an entire episode of “Saturday Night Live” mocking my faux gaming capabilities. So with that in mind let’s delve into my initial reaction to Bloodborne. *gulp*

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You don’t play Bloodborne, you endure it!

Bloodborne is the kind of game that demands sacrifice, patience, and a stubborn fortitude you either obtain through perseverance or is readily innate in you. It’s a game that relishes in your punishment, inciting you for repeating the same mistakes again and again. It’s perverted sensibilities and incessant cruelty harasses an inert retaliation that either provokes a defying resistance or a soul-destroying surrender. At present, I’m clinging to the former.

Bloodborne flaunts an anaemic city stunted by a hue of rancid decay, like a village afflicted by some devastating bubonic plague. The pallid tone and imposing, banal architecture looks as though it was constructed centuries ago from another decaying settlement looms over you, defiling your every cloistered step as if the environments themselves want to end you. This isolation can feel overwhelming, particularly when negotiating the densely narrow streets and overpasses.

Everything looks and feels distinct, almost hallucinatory, which also makes everything unfamiliar. The foreign utilities that litter the inventory possess very ubiquitous capabilities, such as rejuvenating health or burning aggressors to a crisp. But because of the uniquely aberrant depiction of these commonly used items it takes a little time to facilitate yourself with the lingual abnormalities. Even the melee weapon, the staple of any dungeon crawling adventure feels adapted to conform to the games distinct tone. There’s no fluidity to swinging your preferred implement of castration. Every sweeping flail of your scythe/axe is an effort, slow and cumbersome to respond. As if you’re wielding a weapon of significant weight, not some exalted gladius that can be brandished with little effort. And because of the weapons distinct lack of versatility, as well as your characters susceptibility to dying, every single strike has a profound impetus. You can’t miss and hope to follow-up with a flurry of expeditious slashes because you’ll more than likely already be dead.

I’m still in the preliminary stages of Bloodborne, hopelessly trying to understand this morbid and sadistic world. The game prods and snarls, harrying you into making a concerted effort to think before you act, which is a refreshing change to adjustable difficulty settings. There’s an unwieldy fervour about Bloodborne’s progression too, like stalling a Lamborghini every 5 minutes. At times your stupidity is arbiter of your demise, not the relentless bullying inflicted by the shambling villagers that assault you without provocation. There’s a genuine challenge here, one in which you will either embolden you with a purpose or expose you as a charlatan of gaming culture. The fact that you can’t even pause the game in the traditional sense just intensifies the fear!

The joy you leverage from Bloodborne will be largely dependent on the culmination of small victories that in other games would be considered negligible. Like that time you successfully evaded an enemies powerful attack or endured devastating defeat at the same formidable demon hound, only to finally succeed at the 16th time of asking. Bloodborne isn’t something you can play casually, nor really play at all. It’s something that you must survive, requiring dedicated resolve to overcome! I’ve no doubt that there will be infuriating challenges that will incite the same neighbour provoking concern mentioned in my opening digression. That a boss will pummel every ounce of fortitude from my broken and enraged spirit. But quite honestly I look forward to subjecting myself to this interminable torture!

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What games have you deliberately avoided? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.

2015’s Game Of The Year!

Did you have a good Christmas? Great! Oh wow! You received *insert expensive gift item here* for Christmas?! I’m so jelly. Me? Oh the usual you know, drunk too much, ate my weight in variously cooked meats, reflecting on another expeditious year. 2015 has certainly been an oddity in my tenure as an independent member of the community. The refractory ideologies that I’d adhered to since pubescent have had adverse effect on natural progression on obligatory maturity. But now I’m finally learning how to drive, we’ve begun excavating the spare room to transition the spacial anomaly, previously used as a dumping ground for extraneous items into a more accommodating residence for a new occupant due in April and I have a new hairdresser. Yeah, the latter isn’t all that exciting but it’s certainly emblematic of my life now. It’s also been a much improved year for quality gaming content, sadly lacking from this generations tenure. But what have been this year’s essentially performers? The coup de gra of interactive entertainment? Well I’ve conducted an admittedly brief surmise of this year’s most prestigious titles and decided to let you, the informed viewing public determine the appropriate candidate for 2015’s game of the year. Also I couldn’t be bothered to do it myself. It is New Years Eve after all!

Oh and if anyone votes Destiny: The Taken King you are immediately disqualified from, now let’s be fair, everything there ever was, is or will be! And with that in mind…..

Happy New Year! Cheers……….

Um, well I was supposed to be including a poll for you to vote on what you think is the is the best of my choices. As it happens the “poll” icon appears to of disappeared. So as an alternative here are my picks and you can instead let me know your favourites in my comment section. And perhaps let me know where I can find this surreptitious icon? Stupid WordPress update!……

And in yet another twisted fate of circumstance my WordPress dashboard has reverted BACK to where the poll icon appears, also restoring my published article back into a draft?! I think this might be a latent millennium bug! Anyway, vote away!….

2015: Redeeming The Games Industry And My Wallet.

2014 was a particularly fallow year, providing isolated pockets of quality in an otherwise bland and fragile period. It’s tenure rooted in the fertile provocations of commercialised gratuities, with Destiny’s conceited coverage ravaging the proprietary distinction of gaming’s credibility. Well, perhaps that’s an exaggeration but the remonstrated emphasis on expressing discontent with the current state of the industries flagrant, money grabbing predilections has only expedited gamers resentment for the dearth of any sufficient quality. 2015 suffered with congenial hindrances affiliated with 2014, with The Order 1886 a discordant agitation for me personally. Yet despite an adequate retinue of assets 2015 has been a ratification for the emphatic purity of interactive storytelling, striking visuals and shockingly of all; functioning games?! The likes of The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, Rocket League, MGS 5 and Bloodborne may not be advocated examples of creative ingenuity, but considering the multiple questionable motivations perpetrated by isolated sections of developer’s and media, games of these ilk will endure in spite of the derivative themes pilfered from less formidable authorities. Accredited with engaging moments of levity absent from the previous year, 2015 prompted me to be appreciative of what games I own and which ones I want. It’s been a year of tuition, reflected in the adaptive transitions applied to both personal solidarity and strangely games purchases. There’s been considerable volatility applied to my exerted frugality, with domestic censure restricting my frivolous capacity for game ownership, as I only procured 7 new additions to my diminishing collection (minus the free content downloaded from PlayStation store). Rescinding all consumer spontaneity is for like living in a chocolate factory and being allergic to Cocoa! So making the right decision on a game becomes an exercise in resolute application, requiring purposeful often painful concessions, whether you like it not.

“To think that I chose The Order: 1886 over this?!”

Applying calculated frivolity has endowed a rather unexpected benefit though. With diminished opportunity to retain permanent utilities, an auteristic approach has hastened the advances of supplementary parameters, with games now requiring a protracted algorithm to suitably diversify my purchases. Now instead of merely relying on conscious appraisals I have to account for any number of irregular variables. It’s often cost, with Uncharted being this year’s singular exemption from such restrictions because, well, it’s Uncharted. I didn’t say I always conformed to my wizened calculations?! Critical reaction is a certified formality, but one based purely on the credentials of the participating reviewer as opposed to the publication they are writing for. You can typically tell whether a review, even by a publication with scrupulous creditability is published in earnest. It’s an active precaution of just how lucrative critical consensus is, especially considering the consensual formalisation of social advertising and embargoes. The size or indeed length of the game is also a factoring consideration, though perhaps not in the way that you’d imagine. Formally if a game could be comfortably completed within 10 hours it would be instantly dismissed as a potential successor, but as time readily intervenes with much of my recreational activities I have to sample anything I can. A more discretionary game that can be sporadically participated in over the course of a number of sequential days/weeks/months/years! Is immeasurably beneficial, considering how quickly a game of The Witcher 3’s environmental enormity can supplant basic geographical understanding. Ultimately the aggregation of various numeric calculations will only take you so far, it’s perceptual instinct that ultimately vindicates your whims. No amount of vicarious subversion can accurately facilitate the appropriate vigour you’ll have for a specific title, only active manipulation will identify whether or not you’ve made the right choice.

“Quite simply, the game of 2015!”

You want to self-actualise, to rely on your own inherent talents for prophetic selection. Yet processes, in my own lamentable experience often fail to furnish such an observant replication. Your cognizant that you have to deliberate choices effectively to mitigate the damage incurred by a miscalculated purchase. There’s always the chance that you could acclimate to a bad game, perhaps derive some sordid pleasure from an otherwise benign convention, but you don’t want to be discovering excuses to force exponent functionality. Effectually sustained tolerance to a remorseful purchase really isn’t an encouraging direction for game ownership. A solemn inflection, in this case remorse is a sensitive emotion that signifies just how quick we are to lapse into accepting adequacy, and anything resembling adequate should never equate to positive. The most common exhibitor in choosing the wrong game however, which I have learned to much irritation is disregarding popular consensus. The degradation of our own sanity is so readily exchanged for the basic need to harness the expansion of our respective shelves, leading to some very condescending ignorance. I had brazenly abstained from the ambient negativity being openly distributed to “The Order” purely because I craved another game for my meagre PS4 collection. This permissive and downright stupid attitude was a parlous mistake on my part, compounded in this instance by my refusal to pre-order Bloodborne in its stead, despite the abounding cognition to the contrary.

It’s incredibly easy to fraternise with a game ill adept at supplying the necessary sundries to satisfy personal preference. We covet so much all at once with the resonating disparity that we can’t have it all. So be grateful this Christmas for whatever game you receive and hope that the decision is justified.

What game are you glad you bought this year? And which do you regret? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers to all and to all I wish a Merry Christmas!