This "Dead" Franchise Was Just Playing Possum

Rocket Knight is a strange little game but a good one. Like Mega Man 10, it's a platforming throwback – a homage to old games on early systems. Unlike Mega Man, however, the Rocket Knight/Sparkster franchise was, until this year, almost forgotten. Though the series had a few partisans, mostly connoisseurs of mid-nineties games, very few gamers ever expected a fourth Rocket Knight adventure. After all, the last games in the series appeared in 1994. Thus this new game is a windfall for both old Sparkster fans and those, like me, who never had a chance to try the original games.

Despite Rocket Knight's 3D graphics, online functionality, and download-only release, it's hard to miss the fact that the game has roots in the nineties. Today, after all, no company would ever launch an IP about a sword-wielding, jetpacking, steampunk possum. Modern steampunk jetpacking requires Tesla cameos, clunky controls, and Nolan North. Rocket Knight lacks all three and still manages to be a fine game.

The controls are simple – one needs never touch shoulder buttons, adjust the camera, or depress the thumbsticks – yet give Sparkster a wide range of abilities and attacks. The game does a fine job teaching the player all the hero's tricks with unobtrusive tutorial signs in the backdrops of early levels. First-time players can stop, read, and learn, while returning fans can ignore relearning the controls and concentrate on speed runs and shots for the leaderboards– Rocket Knight may be a short game, but it's designed with replayability in mind.

The first few platform sequences in Rocket Knight are fairly simple; environmental hazards are rare and enemies unthreatening. Very shortly, however, Sparkster comes across some truly difficult platforming challenges. The game's third world contains some of the most cunning traps I have seen in recent years. A lesser game might frustrate with instant death spikes, bottomless pits, and scarce check points, but Rocket Knight is relatively forgiving – one mistake won't kill Sparkster, and each level has several checkpoints. Die too many times in Arcade mode and you will have to start again from the game's beginning, but there's also Free Play mode, which, in addition to a level select feature, allows you to play through the game without possibility of permanent loss.

I was very taken with Rocket Knight's platforming segments, but less impressed with the occasional side scrolling shooter levels. While they do offer a change of pace, Sparkster is far less nimble when flying than he is while earthbound. There's only one way to attack your foes, and there's no way to attack any villains who have managed to maneuver behind you. Sparkster can "air dash" with the circle (or B) button, but the trick doesn't satisfy – I think that the dash ought move our hero faster and further. Finally, the level designers have littered the air with far too many floating minefields. Those intricately arrayed clusters of bright bombs don't offer much challenge, and their ubiquity occasionally makes an exciting game feel lazy. Rocket Knight's flight levels aren't terrible or unenjoyable, but I wish that the flying was as well-conceived as the rest of the game.

Rocket Knight is a 2D platformer that uses 3D graphics, and the game sometimes suffers for it. Ninety-five percent of the time everything runs smoothly, but every once in a while it becomes difficult to distinguish between foreground and background. Aside from these moments of confusion, the graphics serve their game well. A few assets repeat too often, but the gameplay variety more than compensates for a little graphical repetition. Though the graphics have slight flaws, the game has a coherent, consistent, and charming aesthetic. Games with far larger budgets and longer development cycles often feel slapped-together and messy; Rocket Knight never does.

Before I close this review, I should mention that I have had intermittent Internet conversations with Rocket Knight's producer. I admit that I expected to like this game but, even so, I was taken aback by how good it is. If you like 2D platforming, chances are you shall like this. I fervently hope that Sparkster doesn't take another decades-long hiatus; I'm already hoping for a sequel. Meanwhile, I think I may have to look up the other games in the series. If they're as good as this game is, they deserve a rerelease.

Deja Blue All Over Again

When Mega Man 9 appeared in 2008, most fans were pleasantly surprised by developer Inti Creates' decision to craft the new game in 8-bit NES style. Mega Man 9, Capcom promised, would not repeat the mistakes of its predecessor: Awkward "2.5D" platforming, an over-elaborate plot involving space robots, and awful forced scrolling levels. Mega Man 9 was a critical success, and I doubt it cost much at all to develop, so I was hardly surprised by the announcement of Mega Man 10, once again a faux-NES downloadable game.

I grew up on Mega Man games; I like to think I know the series' myriad trips pretty well and that I'm pretty good at running and gunning. Still, I don't have the patience that I had as a ten-year-old. So, I was very glad to see that the new game included an Easy Mode, where many instant death pits and spikes are covered, there are fewer enemies, and our hero has more health. Thus far, I've only completed the game's lower difficulty; my ventures into Normal Mode have made me sure that the new Mega Man game is just as difficult as past adventures.

While I found Easy sometimes painfully simple, it's still significantly harder than many of today's action games. Even on this most merciful of settings, there are dozens of pits and spikes to put an end to the Blue Bomber. There will be occasional screams and curses, but in my experience, almost all of my deaths were my fault. Only very rarely did I feel that the game was unfairly laid out. This is quite a relief, especially when I remember some of the cruelties Inti Creates has inflicted on Mega Man fans in the past (note the copious spikes).

I was initially disappointed to see that Mega Man 10 had dropped Mega Man's classic charge shot and slide moves, but Inti Creates has very generously given us a second playable character, Proto Man, whose moveset almost replicates my preferred Mega Man. As with most traditional entries of the series, Mega Man 10 features eight different "Robot Master" levels followed by a jaunt through final boss Dr. Wily's "castle" and a final multipart duel with the evil doctor.

As I haven't played all the Mega Man games, I can't necessarily offer an authoritative opinion on the quality of this game's Robot Master bosses, but I tended to like them. Sheep Man, for example, is wonderfully campy – a robotic sheep with lightning attacks who presides over a math-and-computer themed level. It may not make much sense, but it's exactly the sort of oddity one expects from an NES game. Another example: Strike Man specializes in sports, so of course there are spiked rocket soccer balls all throughout his level. Mega Man 10 is weird, but it's weird in the right way.

Mega Man 10 is a very short game – there's a Trophy unlocked for beating it in under an hour – but it's one that demands replaying. Right after I finished up Easy Mode with the default hero, I decided to try Proto Man. Later I might very well go through Normal Mode with both. In a few weeks, a third playable character (who can double-jump and shoot in eight directions) will appear as DLC. And even aside from that, Mega Man 10 features dozens of short challenges, everything from navigating tricky rooms without shooting to defeating bosses.

Capcom has even included online leaderboard support; it's very funny to see such a "modern" institution as the PSN leaderboard portrayed in 8-bit style with pixelated and hard-to-read type. Mega Man 10 almost never drops its "old school" facade; one can almost believe this game is twenty years old. When the game does drop its pretense, it's usually in service of the player – the NES didn't have shoulder buttons, for example, but Mega Man 10 lets you shuffle through your acquired weapons with L1 and R1.

I enjoy Mega Man 10, but I wonder what will come next for the series. I wouldn't mind a few more NES-style games, but I'd be more impressed if Inti Creates tried to create a good SNES- or PSX-looking Mega Man. With their four Mega Man Zero games and their two Mega Man ZX installments, the company has shown that it's very good at making more "modern" platformers. I should love to see a downloadable game with the graphics and mechanics of Mega Man X4 or Mega Man ZX Advent. Nostalgia and returns to the past are great, but I somehow think that this developer can do more with this franchise.

Whatever my reservations, I'm still very happy with my purchase of Mega Man 10. For $10 it's a fantastic deal, unless of course you simply must have shiny graphics. And while Mega Man 10 does cater to the nostalgic, the introduction of Easy Mode and the two different heroes help make Mega Man 10 accessible and enjoyable for those who might not have spent large portions of their childhood playing Mega Man games. Who knows, maybe I can convince Mr. Hollis-Lima to give it a shot?

I should really get back to playing the game... My ten-year-old self is ashamed of my use of Easy Mode. I should really try and mollify him.

High Honors Among Thieves

If "Uncharted: Drake's Fortune" marked the opening shots of a revolution, "Uncharted 2: Among Thieves" will prove to mark the moment when the war became winnable. The original game had an emphasis on narrative that changed the standards for video games as a storytelling medium. The sequel does not necessarily change the standards again, it just ensures that future games will have no choice but to meet them. Everything, absolutely everything, that worked in the first game (and everything that did not) has been polished to perfection in "Among Thieves," instantly elevating the series into the pantheon of seminal gaming franchises.

There was a moment while I was playing the gripping single-player campaign in "Uncharted 2" when I stopped and thought, "This game is going to have other video game developers throwing themselves off of buildings." Before I get too exalting, however, let me concede that there remains room for improvement (the game's final third cannot maintain the perfect pace of the previous sections – it all degrades into mere greatness, in lieu of excellence). So, at the very least, let us hope that no one at Naughty Dog will be defenestrating themselves over the prospect of the inevitable "Uncharted 3."

Now, Mr. Keeley has already discussed the game's myriad improvements in his two posts, so I will look closely at a specific segment of the game that I believe best illustrates its strengths: Chapter One.

We find Nathan Drake sitting in a train car, stunned. He quickly realizes that he is bleeding heavily, then he slowly realizes that the train car is dangling off of the side of a snowy cliff. Debris comes tumbling down onto him, knocking him out of the car and leaving only the car's back handrail from which to hang. With this, gameplay begins. Scaling the car is every bit as nerve-wracking as it should be. The cliffside is crumbing, the train is pulling apart, winds are blowing and Drake is dying. All of these factors inform the gameplay. Progress is slow, as falling boulders set Drake back, unreliable footholds nearly throw him to his death, and his injuries keep him in nearly palpable pain.

This one train car proves to be a marvel of level design, as the changing state and position of the car force the player to traverse every side of the car's exterior, as well as its vertical interior. First time players will find a number of small, yet thrilling surprises in the gameplay, simply during the course of the minute or two spent climbing the car. No average person could look at a train car and see so much potential for challenging, dynamic platforming; this is the work of true artists. Furthermore, it serves as a wonderful refresher on Drake's abilities. Almost every aspect of the climbing mechanic is utilized here, but with a stilted speed that both heightens the tension and allows players to ease back into the controls.

Reaching the top of the train car brings a second car, this one horizontal (for the moment). This triggers the first of many harrowing, scripted sequences in the game. The second car begins to slip off of the cliff as Drake is walking through it and he must to run for his life. This is not, however, a cutscene. Like so many moments like this throughout the game, the player remains in full control, forcing him or her to frantically work to reach safety; as Drake finally scampers onto solid ground, he is not the only one breathing a sigh of relief. For far too long, video games have featured gameplay that fails to reflect the circumstances within which they are set. Throughout "Uncharted 2," however, contextual handicaps to the controls, dynamic level design, dramatic camera positioning and, of course, excellent voice acting ensure that the emotion of a situation is always brought home to the viewer.

What follows the collapse of the two train cars exemplifies this, too, as the game's narrative enters the mix. Drake must stumble through a dangerous wreckage of about a dozen other cars. He receives some very serious blows here, as other parts of the wreckage explode or collapse, and many of them trigger flashbacks. In these flashbacks, players watch and play through the events that lead up to the train wreck. The trickle of information has a bewildering effect that only brings the player even closer to Drake's stunned state. The final flashback lasts a few hours, as the story circles back around to the wreck.

If one were to look at the elements that compose this sequence, he or she would find very little in the way of new things. Predetermined camera angles, quick-time events, cutscenes, scripted musical cues – all of these things have been used (and, often, overused) for years, but never before to this effect. Games of the past dreamed of an experience that combined all of these elements into something truly seamless and immersive. "Uncharted 2" is brimming with sequences that are wildly successful at it. Time and again, the game leaps two or three steps ahead of the player, sparing him or her those all-to-familiar thoughts of, "Wouldn't it be awesome if I could..." In other words, "Uncharted 2" is the game that players have been unconsciously wishing for over the past few years, but never received.

Again, there is little in the way of apparent innovation in "Uncharted 2" – and that is what will undoubtedly make it so scary for other developers to see. What Naughty Dog has achieved with this game cannot be easily replicated because, on some level, it cannot be attributed to anything other than unadulterated talent. It is difficult to believe that this game was crafted in two years. So many developers devote more time to games that do not feature anything approaching the minute level of polish that this game does (not to mention its incorrigible personality). The past few years have been great for video games, without a doubt, but Naughty Dog has ensured that no one in the industry will be allowed to rest on their laurels any time soon.

Charting the Untold Potential of Video Games

Before Mr. Keeley posts his (appropriately) epic, two-post review of the anxiously awaited "Uncharted 2: Among Thieves" next week, I feel that we should take a look back at the game's predecessor, "Uncharted: Drake's Fortune."

Back in 2007, calling yourself a Playstation 3 owner was not saying much. The console's price was through the roof and its game library did little to make it more attractive. Those who had owned previous Sony consoles, however, knew that one bright spot was guaranteed to appear: the next franchise from game developer, Naughty Dog. Ever since the mid-nineties, this company has consistently created franchises that were brilliant, fresh and thoroughly well-made. The launch of "Uncharted" not only turned things around for the PS3, but history will likely prove that its innovations marked a shift in the way video games are made.

Naturally, a lot of the buzz "Uncharted" had at the time was based on its graphics. Any gamer knows that this is damning with faint praise, as good graphics only make good games great; if the game was a mess, pretty pictures would not save it. Still, this was to be expected, as the PS3's big selling point was its power. "Uncharted" did not disappoint in the visuals, either. In fact, approaching this topic with a purely technical mindset will lead one to underestimate just how much Naughty Dog achieved with the graphics in "Uncharted."

Anyone who has played an older game set in a jungle knows how hard it is create one. Video game environments work like film sets – they are not so much concerned with being realistic as they are with seeming realistic. With video game jungles, this generally results in optical illusions, backdrops and conspicuously solid walls of trees, designed to suggest the density of a real forest. It rarely works. With "Uncharted," however, a key innovation was made: the chaotic layout of a forest directly influenced the gameplay. Jagged rock walls, fallen trees and ruins all became platforming puzzles, not merely scenery. This way, the game often benefited from what inhibited past games. Of course, the PS3's power did not hurt; one promotional video boasted that each leaf on each tree cast its own glossy reflection of sunlight. Significant? Hardly. Impressive? Definitely.

Naughty Dog's art design must be praised, as well. The team did not take the PS3's power, then naively pursue photorealism, like so many do. "Uncharted," in all its facets, is punctuated by wonderfully heightened realism. When a bad guy gets blown up, the physical reaction is not entirely realistic; he fires high into the air, then seemingly hangs there as his animation ever so briefly enters slow motion, then he abruptly slams into the ground. Would a real grenade victim do this? Hell no. Do you wish a real grenade victim would do this? Hell yes. This applies to areas beyond animation. The color palette in "Uncharted" is bursting with bright greens, blues and, in the later acts, reds. Even an abandoned Nazi compound is punctuated with subtle hints of color, reminding the player that they are most certainly not playing "Gears of War."

Nothing, however, was aided by Naughty Dog's technical prowess more so than that one element that just about every game sorely overlooks: story. The story is the heart and soul of "Uncharted." Like "Metal Gear Solid 4," which came shorty after it, this game sought to use next generation technology to blur the lines between story and gameplay more so than ever. This is the greatest innovation in "Uncharted" – a quality so elusive and intangible that it often gets overlooked. After all, publisher cannot put "Oh yeah, and this game has a story that actually bothers to try," on the back of the box, no matter how truthful it may be.

"Uncharted: Drake's Fortune" tells the story of Nathan Drake (Nolan North). He is a treasure hunter that claims to be the descendant of Sir Francis Drake. He heads to a remote Caribbean island, on a tip that the lost treasure of El Dorado is there, courtesy of documents attributed to his supposed ancestor. Once there, hoards of pirates, greedy businessmen, bounty hunters and questionable friends stand between him and the treasure (which is not all it seems, either). To add to the fun, the snarky Elena Fisher (Emily Rose), a TV host, is brought along for the ride.

It may not sound like Oscar bait, but this story is all you want it to be: full of twists, turns, narrow escapes, tense standoffs and sharp dialogue. The story is everything the latest "Indiana Jones" should have been yet, somehow, these video game developers easily bested George Lucas; they resisted the urge to let their technology get in the way of the story. Here, the technology allowed the story to flourish – to be told with a striking, new level of personality and cinematic flair. If any one work represents video games' succession of film as the next great storytelling medium, it very well could be this one.

So many things are done correctly here. First, the game's writer (Amy Hennig) was the project's director, top to bottom. This means that the person who is responsible for the story saw its creation through to the final product. Failure to keep the writer involved throughout the process is a fatal flaw for many video games' stories. Second, the actors reportedly enjoyed a privilege unheard of in the game world: an openly collaborative role in the game's production. Many of Drake's in-game comments, for example, were ad-libbed by North. Making actors actively engage with the material is a vital step toward creating convincing characters, and the final product bears proof of this. Third, the Naughty Dog team had the wisdom to supplement motion capture data with animation. I am not sure how typical this is, to be honest, but that obnoxious, "floaty" quality that so many games' mo-cap performances suffer from is absent in this one. The characters move with genuine weight and astonishing fluidity, facilitating the wonderful performances from North, Rose and their castmates.

Video games may yet become an actors' medium, if "Uncharted" is any indication.

Some readers may notice that I have discussed little about the gameplay thus far. "Uncharted" has its weaknesses in this area. The duck-and-cover gunplay mechanics are ripped straight from "Gears of War" and, many times, the player finds him or herself trapped in an area, fighting off seemingly endless hordes of enemies. (Incidentally, the enemies are every race but White. It makes the game feel a bit strange, once one notices this...) Yet, it is difficult to fault Naughty Dog here. The gunplay may be unoriginal, but it is extremely polished and, often, quite fun. "Uncharted" blows "Gears" away in terms of personality, and discounting personality's affect on gameplay would be unfair. Also, the copious platforming sections suffer from no such deficiencies; they are wonderful feats of subtle and entertaining level design. With the aid of some very adept in-game camerawork, the game makes scaling ruins and rock walls challenging, tense, visceral and satisfying.

Ultimately, the gameplay in "Uncharted" tends to get sold short because it borrows so heavily from other games for inspiration. Yet, one would be hard-pressed to find many games that execute these gameplay mechanics so incredibly well as Naughty Dog's. It is another instance of a sort of quality that is not tangible enough to be boiled down to a bullet point; "Uncharted" truly must be played to be loved (or, at least, seen in person). It does not help that your typical, jaded gamer will roll his or her eyes at the suggestion of playing a game for its plot, either.

Two years later, however, the release of the game's sequel seems to have garnered quite a bit of excitement. This has manifested itself in surprising ways (surprising to those who do not know the game, at least). The game's cast is beloved, as their packed Comic-Con panel earlier this year proves and, when the gaming press interviews Amy Hennig, something interesting happens, as well: she is asked the sort of in-depth, script-related questions usually reserved for film directors.

"Uncharted" may utilize time-tested gameplay mechanics and storylines but, through incredible digital alchemy, the developers create a truly unique entertainment experience of unquestionable quality. The men and women at Naughty Dog are easily some of the biggest talents in their field and the work that they are doing is not only a feather in Sony's cap, but it is the stuff of creative revolutions. Games like "Uncharted" are forcing people to reassess where games stand in the ranks of storytelling media and, with the sequel releasing this week, the revolution is surely just beginning.

LittleBigPlanet: One Year Later

For all of my excitement over LittleBigPlanet last summer, I could not help but feel a bit apprehensive. Media Molecule's humble, little game for the Playstation 3 had tremendous buzz from the media, but no one could be sure how well the game would really work until it was loosed upon the world and given some time to grow. Some wondered if putting faith in the gamer masses to keep such a game alive and vibrant was naive. Thankfully, the game's whimsical aesthetic was not merely window dressing. LittleBigPlanet has not only captured the imaginations of millions of gamers; it has allowed them to flourish.

LittleBigPlanet's launch was, admittedly, a bit rocky. Controversy over the lyrics in one of the game's licensed songs delayed its worldwide release by a few days. It was, sadly, a faux pas that resulted from the developers' desire to make a game that drew from a diverse mix of cultures, but it was rectified swiftly and the delays were ultimately minor. There were a few other flaws, these more closely related to the game itself, that initially hampered the game, as well. The original system for locating a user-created level was woefully clunky. Players only had one choice for finding a level – the cryptic "Cool Levels" section that would select a few new and popular levels to advertise. It did not take more than a few weeks, however, for robust search and sorting options to be introduced to the game.

Suddenly, a burgeoning world full of excellent levels was easily accessible. Yes, there is certainly the predictable share of junk levels – "Easy Trophies!" "1,000 Free Objects!" – but it does not take much work to locate countless, other levels that are easily on par with Media Molecule's own (excellent) work.

The first level I recall truly blowing my understanding of the game's possibilities out of the water was Upsilandre's "LittleBigComputer." Hardly a typical level, there is no platforming and no clear goal for the player; there is simply a fully-functional calculator that the creator had built using the mechanical materials provided.

I find it very unlikely that the developers foresaw their tools being used in this sort of way. That such work is possible speaks to the versatility of the tools they created – not to mention the obvious ingenuity of the level's creator. Be sure to check out the end of the video, when the creator explores the guts of the device. It is jaw-dropping.

Most players, undoubtedly, came to LittleBigPlanet for a more traditional, platforming-based experience. Media Molecule's own levels that shipped on the disc certainly fit the bill. Yet, the developers have not released a single new level since the game's launch. It is a shrewd move – a decisive show of faith in the community and the spirit of the game. I, admittedly, often find myself wishing that they would make a few more levels but the developers know better than to try to overshadow the work of the game's community.

There is no shortage of excellent, traditional levels from the LittleBigPlanet community, either. Countless works showcase an incredible knack for level design, lighting, art design and engineering among many community members.

One example, dan_e2040's "Yggdrasil," remains one of my favorites to this day. It boasts a solid mix of jumping-and-grabbing traversal sections, disappearing platforms and original vehicle sequences. It is all set in a wonderfully atmospheric forest of ancient trees, softly lit by multicolored lights. Even down to the carriage that ends the level, each object is rendered with an amazingly detailed array of rustic branches and planks.

Other creators have dreamed up levels that are equally fun to play, but push the creation tools to their extremes, making levels that not only provide unique challenges, but incredible visual experiences, as well.

ShadowFlareX's "Illumina Garden 2," for example, makes wonderful use of the game's powerful lighting tools. Players must traverse platforms of light, as they navigate the otherwise pitch-black level. Simply jumping from one platform to another takes on a whole new level of difficulty when only the character's feet are visibile. Glowing spheres lift the player for surreal floating sequences and other sections have the player navigating the level in silhouette. While the aesthetics in this level certainly have an effect on how it is played, it will affect viewers' eyes more than it does their fingers. The level is simply beautiful, with bold colors and ethereal shadows permeating every corner.

One glance reveals that this level is brilliant from an artistic standpoint, but anyone familiar with LittleBigPlanet's creation tools will also be floored by ShadowFlare's innovations from a technical standpoint. I am quite familiar with the Create Mode in the game, and I no idea how the creator achieved much of what he or she did with this level.

Needless to say, I have have barely even skimmed the top of what has become a massive collection of levels – over one million as of late July. There is no question that players will continue to break new ground with this game, providing much fun for others to discover. Media Molecule has showed no interest in letting the pace slow, either. The addition of the Paintinator (a paint gun pickup) to the game late last year added a whole new level of gameplay mechanics and the impending addition of water and swimming mechanics this fall promises to change the game even more. LittleBigPlanet: Game of the Year Edition was recently released as well, featuring exclusive, new levels from some of the community's best creators.

One year later, it is apparent that LittleBigPlanet did not merely meet the huge expectations it fostered before its release; the game continues to surprise in both the versatility of the platform and the brilliance of its community's creators. In short, gamers have proven that Media Molecule's faith was well placed and that we all get to reap the benefits.

Mirror's Edge: The In-Depth Game Autopsy (Part Three - The Closing)

This post is preceded by Part One and Part Two of the feature on Mirror's Edge. Mr. Keeley's contributions will, yet again, be presented in italics and mine in traditional font.

There are a lot of bad games, but I don't think many will receive the treatment we've given Mirror's Edge. Matt and I have devoted three quite long blog posts to this game because it could have been so much more. We both played the demo to death; if only the rest of the game had lived up to the first half an hour or so, Mirror's Edge would have been one of the very best games of 2008. But there's hope: EA is working on a sequel to the game. So, how could DICE make Mirror's Edge 2 worth playing? Well...

• Improve the story - Make us care. Some view EA as an Evil Corporation, but its first advertisement ever asked "Can a Computer Make You Cry?" Give it a shot.
• Aesthetics aren't everything - Yes, the City in Mirror's Edge is supposed to look so clean it's sterile. But a little more variety in the setting wouldn't hurt - Many of the game's levels are virtually indistinguishable from each other.
• The empty city - Isn't it odd that you never run into civilians in this game? Even when running through plazas, office buildings, and subway stations? I don't want the sequel to turn into Assassin's Creed, but I think having civilians crowding, running for cover, denouncing Faith for breaking into their buildings, etc. could really liven up the next game's action. A parkour chase through a crowded market could be pretty neat.
• Combat - Give Faith a weapon. Maybe not even a lethal weapon - maybe she has some Super Runner Taser or something. Also, make the enemies a trifle less lethal. Your enemies should not have near-perfect aiming.
• Level design - First, get rid of the slow parts - Climbing up a pipe, then jumping to another pipe, then jumping to a ledge from which you shimmy until you reach a duct... The idealized parkour of Mirror's Edge doesn't need this tedium. Try and cut down on the elevators, too. Second, improve the checkpoint system - Put checkpoints before especially difficult jumps, not before the easy parts before those hard parts. Third, be more consistent with runner vision implementation.

Believe it or not, there are many things about Mirror's Edge that we do not think should be changed. The game was audacious, innovative and unique. An improved sequel has no need to abandon many of the qualities that made it that way.

• Do not make it third person - I really hope that we have conveyed this already: the core running system is a massive achievement. The platforming, despite all of the skepticism surrounding it, is fluid and intuitive; the only reason it did not always work in Mirror's Edge is that the level design was not up to speed. The first person perspective adds an incredibly visceral feel that no other platformer can boast. Just try to leap between skyscrapers without holding your breath.
• Do not make it a shooter - Faith is a runner, not a space marine. She should continue to use guns with disdain. The fact that she used them at all in Mirror's Edge felt a bit incongruous. Leave the fire sticks to the bad guys; Faith should have a melee weapon or some physical attack that does not compromise momentum too heavily.
• Do not make Faith into Marcus Fenix - Despite what one may glean from gaming message boards and comment threads, making Faith a woman of Asian descent who was not a ninja or a blatant sex object was a smart move. The makeup of the typical game protagonist (straight, white, male, unshaven...) is achingly predictable, and the number of stereotypes that fill out the rest of a typical game's cast is astonishing. The gaming industry is, frankly, a bit backwards. It is high time for it to catch up with the growing intellect and diversity of its customers.
• Do not turn the City into Helghan - Almost as predictable as a protagonist's appearance is the typical game's setting. Grey and steel punctuated with the occasional brown... do I even need to explain how ubiquitous such art design is? From the menu screen to the opening shot of the final level, Mirror's Edge is an absolute triumph of art design. Its bold, unique art style need not be compromised in the sequel, even if the level design sorely needs to be diversified.
• Do not fire the guy who is responsible for the music - Enough said.
• Do not try to tack on multiplayer or co-op - Adding new modes will not hide the fact that the level design may still suck. In fact, it will probably exacerbate such problems. (The Time Trials in the original often did.) Gamers want a well-crafted, rewarding single player experience. Give it to them. Any multiplayer that is included needs to be nothing less than a stroke of genius; the old standbys will not fly in such a unique game.

Well, there it is: Mirror's Edge picked apart and analyzed until there is nothing left. Hopefully, it served as more than mere catharsis for the writers. The game had, perhaps, more potential than any other last year, making both its failures and its successes important for the industry. Understanding what went wrong illustrated what made it so disappointing and why hope springs anew for the sequel. So, EA DICE: All eyes are on you...

Revolutionizing Video Games at Sonic Speed

Looking back at the early 90's, it seems like households were divided into two groups: Sega or Nintendo. Now, time has rather decisively told the winner of that one-time battle, but stepping into that moment in video game history, things are hardly as clear cut. I knew a hell of a lot more Genesis owners than I did SNES owners and, with my critical nature coming to light early on, I was one of the many that thought Mario struck an impressive balance between bizarre and bland. For me, and millions of other kids, the fat Italian and his withholding girlfriend could never hold a candle to the visceral thrill and self-conscious attitude of Sonic the Hedgehog.

I recently picked up Sonic's Ultimate Genesis Collection as a very reasonably priced means for reliving those days. I noted a couple of things very quickly after putting in the game: 1) I did not play 90% of what the Genesis had to offer in its heyday, and 2) I did not not care; I wanted Sonic. He, as the title suggests, is the main feature, with essentially every Genesis Sonic game available to play in its untainted, 16-bit glory, but there are many other games to be discovered. Vectorman's brutal difficulty illustrates how classic games' longevity hinged on them being nigh unbeatable. Comix Zone's bold premise that literally puts players into a comic book proves that video games were bursting with artistic innovation long before anyone cared to notice. Ecco the Dolphin shows that video games have never been limited to violent, male-centric fare. Most importantly, Streets of Rage proves that there is nothing more fun than beating a dominatrix to death with a pipe while playing as a thirteen year old kid.

That last point is indicative of Sega's overall approach to marketing the Genesis, as well as the idea that fueled Sonic's birth: edginess. Nintendo has always insisted on being family friendly and, perhaps as a result, a bit boring. It created an opportunity for Sega – one that they occasionally seized on shamelessly, but often used to push boundaries creatively. When one holds Sonic up against Mario, it is clear which one had something to prove. Even in his mediocre debut, Sonic made it no secret that he wanted to leave Mario in the dust. Dynamic visuals, a protagonist who flaunted his attitude with every opportunity, music with clear hip hop and rock influences and, of course, speed set Sonic apart. Being able to play each of the four games in the classic series back to back provided a unique chance to see how the hedgehog grew into his role as Sega's answer to Mario.

His 1991 debut, entitled "Sonic the Hedgehog" has not aged well. While Sonic's defining attributes are established here, they are presented in an unrefined package that proves more frustrating than anything else. The art style, despite already showcasing the Genesis' increased ability to fill the screen with active backgrounds and foregrounds, was not consistently unique. (The Marble Zone feels like it is ripped straight from a Mario game.) Gameplay is occasionally fast but players of the later games will find that Sonic's spin dash, a key tool for gaining speed, is frustratingly absent. The cruel level of difficulty is most frustrating of all. There are countless instances of level design that punishes players unfairly, leading to a great deal of trial and error. The later stages of the game are particularly painful because they often take place underwater. Every Sonic game has its underwater stages (an apparent attempt to trump Mario's susceptibility to the substance), but they are only tolerable in small doses. They slow Sonic down considerably, after all, and force one to manage oxygen, lest the player be subjected to the incomparably stressful drowning song. Speaking of music, the melodies in this game are often far too giddy to fit Sonic's persona.

Sonic 2, released only a year later, found him coming into his own. Gameplay properly showcased the visceral thrill that only he could provide. Levels are full of loops and springs that keep Sonic moving at breakneck pace. Gone are the tedious traps and platforming challenges that plagued the first game. The introduction of Tails adds little to gameplay, but expanded the universe and would later lead to more diversity in the cast. Most importantly, the style of the levels blossomed into something unique. No one would mistake the Chemical Plant Zone, with its giant metallic structures and driving, jazzy soundtrack for anything in a Mario game. Levels like Hill Top Zone showed a self-conscious bizarreness that Mario would never gain. The closing levels built dramatically and in terms of difficulty with the massive Metropolis zone and Sonic's airborne pursuit of Robotnik over the course of the final three levels. It culminates in the final zone, where Sonic beats Mario into space by over a decade. The special stages also deserve mention, being an early use of 3D that was something more than giant polygons being thrown at the screen.

Sonic's golden age was capped off with a two-game epic that solidified him as one of the greatest characters in gaming history. Both released in 1994, Sonic 3 and Sonic & Kunckles combined to create one massive game that introduced countless innovations.

The moment players begin Sonic 3, the evolutionary strides are apparent. Sonic does not start the game standing in an arbitrary spot; he soars down from the sky, straight out of the climax of the previous game. It is a subtle touch that reoccurs consistently throughout the game. Never does Sonic simply materialize at the beginning of a level; there is always a clear transition between locations and, furthermore, acts flow straight into each other, only broken up by a moment for score tallying. At the beginning of the first level, Sonic runs into Knuckles, the rival that will lend a new degree of complexity to the series, both in terms of story and gameplay. The pantomime story these games tell is certainly simplistic, but is told with surprising effectiveness for a 16-bit platformer.

Nowhere is this dramatic punch made more apparent than in the mid-level boss that appears shortly thereafter. As a result of Sonic's battle with the robot, the beautiful, tropical forest setting bursts into flames. Twists such as this come throughout the game and set Sonic 3 apart from its predecessors, as well as its contemporaries. Significantly bolstering this leap is the relentlessly infectious music, which many believe is the work of Michael Jackson. It parallels the evolution of each level, as each zone's second act features a remix of the first's song. Mario's music may be more famous today, but that is quite baffling when playing Sonic 3.

Sonic & Knuckles continues with similar strengths, but brings the obvious addition of the second playable character. While there aren't two completely different sets of levels to complete, they do branch, based on which character is being played. Furthermore, Knuckles could be brought into Sonic 2 and Sonic 3, by way of the heavily-touted "Lock-On Technology" that allowed players to connect the game with others. Knuckles can glide and climb, giving the game a more vertical focus than it has with Sonic, a significant, but not revolutionary addition. Knuckles adds most to the game when he's driving the plot forward. Sonic's final confrontation with the character is striking, being the only hand-to-hand confrontation of the series. It leads to a silent reconciliation between the characters. This may not be Shakespeare, but it brings a degree of complexity to the simple "good versus bad" dynamic that defined most video games of the time (including Mario).

Level design remains strong in this game, with memorable moments abound. The Sandopolis Zone introduces interesting, new mechanics that force Sonic to fight off darkness and a constantly rising tide of sand. The Sky Sanctuary Zone builds the game to a dramatic climax as Sonic allies with Knuckles to catch up to Robotnick and fight off a mechanical version of himself. The large-scale space battle that concludes the game illustrates just how effective Sonic had become at carving out a unique image for himself. You will never see Mario leaping out of an exploding space fortress, after fighting a mech that is fifty times his size.

Perhaps this look back at Sonic's heyday proves, most of all, how brief it was. His reign lasted less than four years and it was filled with quality games that consistently improved on their predecessors and gave Mario a run for his money. Yet, it was a pace that could not continue. Ask any Sonic fan about Sonic 3D Blast, the game that followed and they will undoubtedly cringe. If nothing else, the fleeting amount of time Sonic needed to make his impact was a testament to the greatness of his games. Oddly fitting, is it not?

A Response from Matt Keeley: "Late Sega Decline"

Matt rightly points out the important differences between the kids who grew up on Mario and Nintendo games and those who grew up on Sonic and Sega. I've always been a Nintendo fan, though I was never averse to playing the Genesises of my friends and of my cousins.

And yet Sonic has never done much for me. I admit that the games had fantastic music and that they were very technically proficient, but I always felt that Sonic's speed masked a lack of compelling gameplay - The games sometimes felt more like playable tech demoes than full-fledged games. The Mario games, I always found, had fewer cheap deaths and controller-throwing moments. Of course, even Mario had his moments of poorly-conceived "innovation." The Ghost Houses in Super Mario World were remarkably tedious exercises in trial-and-error, while the 3D games have always focused a little too much on McGuffin collecting over simple and pleasing platforming goodness.

Perhaps some of my frustration with the Sonic franchise is oddly retroactive - My memories of those rare youthful days with a Genesis controller in my hands have been tarnished by Sega's descent in the years since the Genesis. Matt called Sonic a "self-conscious" mascot. Perhaps he once was, but in recent years the Sonic games have degenerated into parodies of what they once were. The fine people at Sega have proliferated irritating side characters, given hedgehogsguns, and generally done everything they could to make sure that the only dedicated Sonic fans are emo furry seventh-graders. Sega has tried to reboot the series, but the simply-titled PS3 and 360 game Sonic the Hedgehog received a 4.2 of 10 at IGN, while the recent Wii games were damned with faint praise. Yes, the reviewers said, the Wii games weren't that great. But at least they got rid of the damn side characters.

Sonic is hardly the only series suffering in this era of Late Sega Decline (LSD). Sega still makes good games - Valkyria Chronicles is apparently one of the best PS3 games available - but they no longer know what to do with their franchises. No one pays attention to Phantasy Star anymore, though the series once competed with Final Fantasy. Streets of Rage has vanished.No one cared about the PS2 Shinobi games; I doubt we'll ever see a PS3 sequel. There hasn't been a new Panzer Dragoon in ages, nor has Sega ever re-released Panzer Dragoon Saga, which generally goes for over a hundred dollars on eBay. Worse, other games never get the chance to turn into series. Skies of Arcadia was one of the best games of the previous console cycle, but it never got a sequel, though a few characters from the game showed up in Valkyria Chronicles. One hopes that Sega can turn things around, but it's going to be quite the challenge for them. LSD is a hard habit to kick, and Sega's had an awful trip of late.

Matt mentioned Michael Jackson's involvement in Sonic 3. Sad to say, I think Sonic followed MJ's career path: Brilliance followed by breakdown. I hope that Sonic can make the comeback that Jackson never did. As the early games prove, he deserves a second chance.

Mirror's Edge: The In-Depth Game Autopsy (Part Two)

This post is preceded by Part One of the feature on Mirror's Edge. Mr. Keeley's contributions will again be presented in italics and mine in traditional font.

Chapter Five: New Eden

Near the beginning of this level, Faith has to run across yet another set of tracks. Her friend Merc, who provides audio advice to Faith throughout the game, suggests that Our Heroine look for a particular access stairway that she might "get back on to the roofs where [she] belongs." If only the developers understood Mirror's Edge as much as their characters do. While there are some good non-roof portions of the game, Mirror's Edge is at its best when the player is doing open-air acrobatics. While I have no doubt that there is potential for good "ground-based" parkour gameplay, there's precious little of it in this game. Hallways and elevators are not good.

Chapter Five actually features some very good platforming and freerunning in its early stages; alas, it also has what may be the most frustrating and ill-conceived setpiece in the whole game. Parkour in a mall is potentially interesting and fun. Parkour in a mall is markedly less fun when said mall is a) empty of civilians and b) full of heavily armed policemen. Despite what speedrun videos may show you, it is next to impossible to escape without "neutralizing" all the enemies, especially if you don't already know the level like the back of your hand. Though the enemies may be standing thirty feet below Faith's leap to a ventilation duct and safety, these cops have incredible aim; they will kill you many times. It was during the mall sequence that I decided to stop playing as a pacifist - I shot the cops and I liked it. Or, if I didn't like it, I at least preferred it to engaging in the game's awful hand-to-hand combat. The police in Mirror's Edge can take a flying kick without flinching, provided they lift their guns to their chest to shield themselves. If Faith's foot hits this gun, Faith loses half her health. The guards are very quick with their gun-blocking.

I should perhaps point out that the level is called "New Eden" because the mall is. Naming a shopping center "New Eden" - What a brilliant and scathing critique of consumerism.

In one portion of the mall, Faith has to turn off a deadly fan blocking the entrance to a duct. These fans are great - You have to wait until they are entirely stopped, or touching them will instantly kill you. In another level, I made the mistake of stepping into one that was down to about one rotation every five seconds. It killed me. Sweet Mirror's Edge logic.

Chapter Six: Pirandello Kruger

I'll kick this segment off with another nugget that comes courtesy of the loading screen: The game urges players to isolate individual enemies, making them easier to dispatch. This concept stuck with me as I traversed the level – in an amazed, negative sort of way, of course. Not only is Faith put in a number of situations where she has multiple enemies with clear shots on her, but those enemies often refuse to move an inch. Perhaps it is just me, but attempting to isolate armed, immobile enemies who happen to be in wide open spaces seems counterintuitive. Thanks, loading screen!

This level kicks off with some solid rooftop action but, as so many of them have thus far, it stumbles quickly. The first enemy Faith encounters is distracted by some mundane conversation over his radio. (They try to give these guys personality six levels in? Let's cut our losses and stick to "Go! Go! Go!" and "Move! Move! Move!" please.) This provides an opportunity for an easy disarm, and a moment for Faith to realize that she is now the target of two other snipers who stand across the way. They, and their cohorts on the ground, can all be dealt with by way of the rifle Faith has just acquired, assuming the player had enough time to figure out its controls. Thankfully, all enemies seem to slump to the ground when shot by this gun, regardless of where they are hit. If the player is profoundly stupid and is attempting to beat the game without the aid of firearms, this area is quite the bitch. Needless to say, trial and error is the only solution.

What makes this area truly rant-worthy, however, is yet another "runner vision" mishap. (I am beginning to think that Faith may need an optometrist.) There is a red door on the building that is directly across from Faith's sniper nest. It is very high up, but not so high that all players will declare it unreachable. Predictably, there is another red door tucked away at ground level, but that's hard to see when the area is teeming with enemies. This, more than anything else in the game, cannot be anything other than a sadistic joke. That high door is unreachable, and Faith never ends up there later in the level. It need not exist, but it does. My conclusion is that its only purpose can be the torture of players.

It will not take one long after entering the building before they realize that Faith has entered (wait for it) the obligatory Factory Level. So much for breaking new ground. They were doing so well, otherwise... Sharp-eyed players will notice that the entrance is filled with the nondescript "Mr. Tronik" boxes that litter the game. Apparently, they manufacture generic video game assets here. Wait, but it is actually the home of Pirandello Kruger, the crooked security company that has way too much power. ...So, why do they need a labyrinthine factory filled with armed soldiers? Maybe, like the person who placed that door on the roof, they are just assholes like that.

A few minutes into the factory, another headache-inducing room full of enemies comes along. This time, they populate catwalks above a stockroom. The most comical aspect of this setup is the fact that the men tend to open fire on Faith before she enters the room. As if this were not unfair enough, Faith must vault up to the catwalks before she can lay a hand on any of them. With their godlike aim undaunted, Faith must make an absolutely flawless climb for and disarm of the first enemy for any chance at survival. With the proper exit again proving elusive, the remaining pair of enemies must be dealt with as well. Their refusal to move from their initial position makes both charging them and shooting them from any reasonable distance impossible. Arbitrarily throw in the game's first exploding barrels, and we have another classic Mirror's Edge stonewall.

On, however, presses Faith. After some solid platforming, she comes across a confounding room where hitting an elevator switch creates no apparent results. There is an unmarked hole hidden at the bottom of the shaft. (Your constant failures are beginning to bore me, "runner vision.") The hole drops Faith into some particularly clandestine-looking hallways. I smell a plot point! She finds a slick room full of LCD screens. Tap-tap on the keyboard and... apparently, someone wants to kill the runners.

Uh, okay. Thanks for the heads up.

Out bursts a bunch of cops who seem far fonder of motion than their predecessors. They chase Faith through a giant gymnasium and back onto the city's roofs. (Thank God.) It is all pretty fun. Punching out windows and jumping between buildings is certainly a welcome twist, too. Suddenly, Faith hits a dead end; she is cornered at the end of a building with only elevated train tracks before her, a few stories down. It is clearly not a safe jump, but Merc pushes you: "Hitch a ride, girl." So, Faith lands, ass first, on the roof of a moving train that is passing by about fifty feet down. I am not sure if this moment is a result of one, bad idea or a lack of ideas, but either way, it seems a bit insulting. Why, at this singular point in the game, is this a safe jump? Forget what reality dictates; what about the rules within the game? Trains have been established as safe to ride, yes, but fifty-foot leaps? Eh, I suppose that complaining about the contrivances of contextual events in this game is not really fair when the general rules of the game are inconsistent to begin with.

Chapter Seven: The Boat

Short Version:

Faith sneaks a ride onto a plot-significant boat. Gamers regret it.

Long Version:

I suppose it was nice of the developers to try and mix up the environments a bit, to offer some variety. Unfortunately, this is a pretty miserable level. Mirror's Edge should be about speed and grace, not gunfights in dank ships. I especially like the doors that take forever to open - these doors force you to fight your pursuers. Who are more heavily-armed than usual. Yes!

Victory over your foes brings you a long and slow bout of duct-crawling, pipe-climbing, and ledge-shimmying. Also more entirely unnecessary slow doors. Because speed, interest, and half-decent level design are overrated.

Once you get on the boat's deck, you have to avoid attacks from a sniper. This is actually fairly interesting, though it doesn't make up for the utter tedium of the rest of the level. The fight with your attacker also brings home just how ridiculously bad this game's combat system is - Your attacks are limited, the physics are unrealistic, and your enemies show very little sign of taking damage. Once you beat your attacker and they flee, you get a half-decent chase through the boat. It's actually kind of neat. Too bad the level ends with another fist fight, after which your foe is revealed as Someone You Know. Considering that this character has little to no prior purpose in the game, it's hardly shocking that she betrays you.

"The Boat" may not be the most irritating level in the game, but it may be the most tedious. Who greenlit this waste of everyone's time?

Chapter Eight: Kate

Another bit of quality platforming kicks off this level, and the incessant hail of gunfire that follows Faith has a welcome replacement here: the soft footsteps of three runner-cops on her tail. It makes the platforming legitimately urgent and generally fun, although the tazer attack that they use when in close range is more annoying than anything else. Once the enemies are left behind, traversing an exterior elevator shaft and some hanging crates is a bit more of a pain than it should be, but the sequence is not prolonged.

It leads to an impressive indoor segment that is easily the level designers' proudest achievement. Faith enters a giant atrium that must be at least a half-dozen stories high. The hint button points her to the top. She must traverse a maze of scaffolds and walkways to reach her goal. If it sounds tedious, let me clarify: this is the strength of Mirror's Edge in its purest form; it is the rock-solid core that could have made the game great – unadulterated first person platforming, without convolution or misdirection. Every step of the way, the path is made clear, yet it is consistently challenging. Reaching the top of the massive room feels like a genuine achievement and, while there may be hang-ups along the way, the game does its best to refrain from punishment with frequent checkpoints. Throughout this segment, subtle, environmental cues guide Faith, allowing the broken "runner vision" system to take a back seat. For the first time, the game returns to the organic cohesion that made its opening moments so compelling.

This section contains a musical track that will be strangely familiar to those playing on the Playstation 3. That is because it is the song that plays in the system's main menu when the disc is inserted. To me, this indicates that the game's music producer believes that the song represents the game well. It is not a surprise, then, that it should also be used in this area of the game. This is not the only moment, however, where the soundtrack elevates the game. Through and through, the music lends a tense, modern beauty to the game. I may know very little about music but, in my humble opinion, this is one of the best video game soundtracks in recent years.

It should not be a surprise that reaching the top of the atrium sets off the game's return to its old tricks. A scripted sequence where Faith must shoot out the truck carrying her sister is unintuitive and uninteresting. This scene is followed by a lobby full of enemies that make one of the most frustrating sequences in the game. Fighting a path down to the bottom floor invariably requires many repeated attempts, for reasons that one can extrapolate from the complaints Mr. Keeley and I have made above. It is a sad fall back to Earth for players coming off of a segment so strong that it briefly rekindles hope in the game.

Chapter Nine: The Shard

In this level we finally see the City at night. Shame we see so little of it, as it's so pretty and enjoyable to traverse. No, most of this level is spent indoors, and much of "The Shard" is devoted to (shock) gunfights with cops. Near the start of the level, we get the game's one instance of environmental destruction: You have to turn on the gas in a hallway to start an explosion that blows an inconvenient door off of its hinges. Unfortunately, this door leads to a parking garage full of cops. Which is followed by a lobby full of even deadlier cops. Which is followed by another bit of climbing through an elevator shaft - You will most likely die several times here, especially as there's little warning when other elevator cars come. You'd think the cops would have stopped the elevators while Our Heroine infiltrates the building? Who is on those elevators? To no one's surprise, the elevators lead to ducts. And crawling.

After the ducts, however, you find one of the game's best portions, as Faith must move from rooftop to rooftop while dodging snipers. You can see the laser pointers the snipers use, so you can actually determine when you're in danger. It's nice. Plus the nighttime setting is lovely. Shame more of the game's combat wasn't like this. After this, Faith takes an elevator to the city's surveillance server room and the last miserable gunfight of this game's innumerable miserable gunfights.

When Faith reaches the roof, she confronts Jackknife (Remember him? Me neither.) and a group of guards. Instead of engaging in a firefight, you leap on to the helicopter in which Jackknife is departing (Didn't we do something like this at the beginning of the game), kick him out of the helicopter's open door, and watch the game's ending. Oh, and Faith saves her sister. Things look bad for Faith and Kate, as they're on top of a skyscraper absolutely crawling with trigger-happy cops. Did I mention that some of these cops are standing on the roof? The ending, of course, does not address this minor issue. Doubtless Faith's runner skills save her. And her sister.

The ending, in fact, resolves very little. I guess this means there will be a sequel. I'm both hopeful and afraid.

This feature will be concluded in Part Three.

Mirror's Edge: The In-Depth Game Autopsy (Part One)

As Mr. Keeley recently pointed out to me, my optimism in last summer's pre-release post about Mirror's Edge is a bit cringe-inducing. As I noted at the time, expectations were remarkably high for this, a game that clearly sought to break new ground in numerous ways. When the final product turned out to be, at times, disappointing and, at other times, downright infuriating, he and I quickly turned to assessing the game's successes and failures. I do not think, however, that either of our enthusiasm for the franchise has waned, as the potential for something great lives on with the promise of a sequel. For this reason, we have decided to collaborate on an in-depth, level-by-level analysis of what went right in Mirror's Edge... and what went horribly wrong.

Mr. Keeley's contributions will be presented in italics and mine in traditional font.

Prologue: The Edge

I must begin by pointing out that before I even set foot in the level, one of the game's great hypocrisies reared its head: those damn loading screens. For once, loading screens' length or frequency are not the subject of my disdain; their visual design is the irksome quality. The game's loading screens, you see, are used to provide "helpful" tips to gamers, presented under a looping animation that supposedly depicts this hint in action. The problem is, there are countless animations that show Faith, the protagonist, performing stunts whose fluidity and style surpass anything the player can ever do in-game and that, furthermore, seem to fit the game's style far better. The main area this applies to is the disarming of enemies – an area we will undoubtedly address later on in this post. So, simply keep in mind that many of the gripes we have below are repeatedly highlighted by their solutions' presence within the game's very own loading screens.

Anyway...

Put simply, this level is everything that is good about Mirror's Edge. The overwhelmingly affecting visual and aural style of the game washes over you from the first moment you peer into the washed out, white landscape of the city. It's an aesthetic that has not lost its novelty in the past months, as most developers still proudly tout the "subtle hints of color" their drab, uninspired shooters feature. The computer-controlled opening sequence highlights these strengths, as Faith peers into the distance and the game's striking music blends with the city's ambient sounds. Watching Faith leap across the steel canyons of the city does not only provide the enticing promise of excitement to come, but it displays the fluidity of movement that makes Mirror's Edge brim with potential.

Once control moves to the player, we meet one of the best designed areas in the game. Being able to move across these rooftop landscapes quickly and adeptly really hits home the idea of "flow" that is touted in the game's cutscenes. At this early moment, Faith is able to achieve a seamless unity with the space around her, as the objects become less like obstacles and more like tools for the art of freerunning. It is not literal freedom (why should it be?), but there is an indelible sense of freedom that comes with traversing these first few rooftops with skill. This feeling, I believe, comes from a balance that is struck in the level design: there are many obstacles, but none of them have to stop you in your tracks; many will hinder the inexperienced player at first, but none will always force you to stop.

What follows this segment is a small taste of the many hinderances that the game will use to stonewall you in later levels: doors, sealed hallways and (of course) armed guards. The reason that they do not do serious damage to the prologue is that they are fleeting and, often, avoidable. The first platforming puzzle is brief and clearly explained. The first enemies that you encounter are unprepared and can only give chase. The stumbling blocks the game throws at you here are appropriately small in dosage and add texture to the game's pacing. They also give way to a memorable climax, where Faith makes a dramatic escape hanging from a helicopter – a wonderful expression of the limitless potential that Faith's abilities hold.

Chapter One: Flight

Mr. Hollis-Lima addressed the feeling of freedom in the prologue level of Mirror’s Edge. There are very quick ways to get through the level, but first-time players may end up taking slower, more obvious routes. The game doesn’t have a “sandbox game” level of freedom, but you can run about more or less according to your style.

This fine style of play carries over to the first part of level one, but it’s also here that we begin to see some of the game’s weaknesses. After a nice invigorating rooftop jaunt, Faith finds herself inside. She runs through a few empty (as ever) corridors and hops into the first of the many elevators she will encounter in the course of her story. Surely the developers could have developed a nicer, more interesting way to load the coming portion of the level and get Faith to higher ground? You’re not able to jump or punch or otherwise do interesting things inside the elevator, so all you can do is run about, watch, your shadow, and wait. There’s some plot-related text scrolling down a computer screen in the elevator wall, but a) the plot isn’t terribly interesting and b) the text tends to repeat. Oh joy.

After the elevator ride, you get a first-person cutscene with some pretentious dialogue (“There are no accidents in this city”) before you get to flee the cops invading the building you’re in. The “runner vision” that is supposed to tell you where, generally, to go makes the first of its many disappearances here. You’ll likely die a few times just figuring out where to go. Runner vision works well enough outside, but it seems to vanish once you go indoors. Indeed, much of the game’s fun seems to go elsewhere once you step off the roofs and into buildings, ships, subways, and other such structures. Ventilation ducts too. You spend altogether too much time in the convenient runner-sized ducts that honeycomb the city. Imagine what the city's evil government could do if they cut the police budget and introduced a stipend for creating smaller ducts... Poor Faith would be screwed.

Once you get out of the ducts and on to the roofs again, you encounter one of Mirror’s Edge’s finest and most cinematic moments. As you jump onto a slanted glass roof and start sliding down, you see that a helicopter is coming in to take potshots at you. The chase continues across several rooftops, and it’s absolutely brilliant. The copter lends urgency to your parkour feats, but its attacks aren’t accurate enough that it will kill you easily. It may not be realistic, but it makes for a lot of fun.

The next building you enter features a police attack, but the game actually permits you to avoid fighting them – you sneak around them and enter the building’s elevator while their backs are turned. The level ends with an enjoyable ground-level chase – Though there are cops after you, they’re not terribly well-armed, they’re not terribly many of them, and fleeing them is a viable strategy. It’s a satisfying end to a level with some truly great moments. If only the game could have continued in this vein…

Chapter Two: Jacknife

Here begins the game's downward trend. The level picks up with Faith enjoying a momentary respite from the relentless chase – and do I ever mean momentary. After one climb over a tall fence, she is once again forced to flee from the helicopters that were omnipresent in the previous level. If the bottom of the developers' bag of tricks is already becoming visible to you, you're not alone. Repetitive and trite commands from city cops mixed with the sound of gunfire hitting metal will remain the game's primary means for creating urgency from this point forward.

This holds true as a helicopter (whose gunners have positively horrible aim) follows you most of the way down a massive vertical tunnel, after a brief bout of hallway/vent crawling. Little more than a series of pipes and platforms, this tunnel quickly grows tiresome and occasionally leaves you wondering if you are going in circles. The "runner vision" feature, however, does its job well enough here. It illustrates how these bare-bones platforming segments are mundane, but hardly the most grating aspect of the game. Besides, these are easily the most beautifully lit municipal sewage tunnels you will ever see. It really lets you know where the current regime's priorities lie.

The tunnel leads Faith to a massive... room, laden with catwalks and snipers. This area is surprisingly enjoyable, with a mostly linear design that allows you to progress quickly. One or two face-to-face encounters with snipers feel a bit cheap, as the troops' ability to beat you with their rifle is generally unhindered by your attacks. Here, Faith also encounters the true danger of the cops' perfect aim for the first time. Nothing is more comical than Faith slipping off of a fifty foot-high platform and watching two laser sights follow her the entire way down, never losing their lock.

These absurdities, however, pale in comparison to what follows your traversal back up to the surface (by way of a second, identical vertical tunnel). As the bloom effect kicks in and Faith's view is overwhelmed by white light, in creeps a tinge of red. As she stands on the rising platform that takes her on the final stretch to the surface, she is a trapped target for what can only be called the first clusterfuck of the game. (Worry not; it will not be the last.) Surrounding the mouth of this giant tunnel, in addition to armed guards, is a small enclosure of freight containers, trucks and barbed wire fences – three apparent favorites from the absurdly short list of assets (pieces of set dressing) this game features. With very little indication of where to go and very little time to figure it out before Faith is perforated, this area is the quintessential example of the level designers' unabashed disdain for the player. Searching for the exit while under fire is out of the question, so Faith is forced to stand and fight for the first time.

Here is where the game falls to pieces.

The fine folks over at EA DICE seem to believe that, while being bold in just about every respect, they had earned the right to rip parts of the level design from any old first person shooter. In other words, Faith is a square peg in this game's round hole. She is designed to run, not to fight. Hell, the loading screens even entreat you to avoid combat at all costs. Here, however, in the first of many similar monuments to non-cohesion, Faith is left with little choice.

How bad is the combat? The shotgun provides a perfect example. When in enemy hands, the it is a strong argument for Faith to run away. When in Faith's hands, it is a strong argument for the enemies to purchase firmer hair gel. Despite the sound it makes, the shotgun seems to emit a weak blast within a very narrow range of space, invariably allowing enemies to return fire and land the one or two blows needed to defeat her. Hand to hand combat is farce of equally high audacity. Defeating a single, armed enemy is fairly simple with the application of a few kicks and punches, but enemies generally travel in packs from this point on, making those few attacks impossible to execute safely (and rendering their inclusion in the game pointless). Faith's only other recourse when faced with unavoidable enemies is the exasperating disarm mechanic. Whenever she gets within a foot or two of an enemy, Faith is able to take away an enemy's firearm and incapacitate him with the precisely timed press of a button. This means forcing her to run up to the most intimidating foes and stand there, as they wind up their melee attack (in what must be slow motion) and swing their gun into the precise position needed to allow for a disarm. More often than not, Faith will get her face beaten in. More often than not, trying the same tactic again will be her only recourse. It essentially degrades all of the game's combat mechanics to a single, timed button press.

What follows this section could never compete in terms of sheer first-time frustration. (I add "first-time" because once the player is able to drag the level designers' intentions out into the light of day, the game becomes an absolute push-over. I spent most of my first playthrough in a prolonged state of rage, but I beat the game a second time in a speedy three hours.) It, however, does little to improve relations between player and game. Immediately upon exiting an elevator, Faith faces Jacknife, an ex-runner with a serious lack of humility. What this boils down to is Jacknife smugly waving to Faith at every turn, as she tries to chase him down. He's purportedly a talented runner. In reality, the game visibly warps him forward to prevent Faith from catching him. About a minute after she finds him, she chases him into an elevator where he (surprise!) smugly waves at her and the doors close a second too soon. Faith is forced to take an adjacent elevator down. (Do real freerunners make so much use of elevators?) The developers, in a bout of sheer delusion, seemed to believe that the player would be ready for a cute inside joke here, so there is muzak playing in the elevator as you stare at a blank wall for the umpteenth 30 second stretch.

Faith finally catches up to Jacknife when he knocks himself out. She must, however, traverse another rooftop playground first – one that proves that the game's grasp on the concept of "flow," even in its most basic form, is fading. Perhaps most taxing of all is swallowing the dialogue that concludes the level. Case in point: Jacknife ends each line with the knickname, "Faithy."

Chapter Three: Heat

Before I get to chapter three proper, I’d like to expand upon Matt’s comments on this game’s, um, memorable writing. Mirror’s Edge's writer is Rhianna Pratchett, the daughter of Sir Terry Pratchett, knight and author of the very fine Discworld novels. Alas, she is unlikely to receive a peerage for her writing anytime soon – The characters in the game don’t actually do much, and most of them are more or less interchangeable. In the course of Mirror’s Edge, two different runners betray Faith. I didn’t care, I wasn’t surprised, I just couldn’t remember who the second traitor was supposed to be. One hopes that future efforts from Ms. Pratchett will be better – her father wrote a few mediocre novels before he got to the really good stuff…

“Heat” gets off to a good enough start – there are dramatic jumps across rooftops, some satisfying wallrunning, and a merciful lack of police pursuit. One wishes that there were a bit more variety to the cityscape – Yes, I know the Forces of Evil want a clean and shiny city, but couldn’t we have a little more variety?

Speaking of variety, the interiors of chapter three once again feature some ventilation duct action. Are you a runner or a crawler? Sometimes I think the developers weren’t sure. Honestly, I’m pretty sure you spend more time in ducts in Mirror’s Edge than you do in the first Metal Gear Solid. Of course, duct crawling in Metal Gear helped you avoid guards, find items, and plan stealth attacks. Here, it’s just another sign of lazy design. Since I've already ranted about ducts twice, I'll try and avoid any more long discussions of them. Be assured, however, that they are present. Later in the game there are even duct mazes.

When the level’s titular “heat” appears, you don’t actually have to defeat all the cops who are chasing you. The game, in other words, works like the developers said it should.

At one point in her flight from the cops, Faith comes across a broken elevator – the elevator doors open onto the shaft, so Faith has to slide down a pipe to reach the next level of the building she’s in. It’s almost as if the developers know how annoying the elevators are… Shame they show up several more times throughout the game. Later on, there are even elevators that do not open until Faith has defeated all the (heavily-armed) enemies in the area. The game is full of other such cheap ways of making you stand and fight. Indeed, later in this level we find an area where the only way to advance is by climbing a series of pipes. As Faith climbs really slowly, the only way to survive the climb is to… kill all the enemies. As usual.

Speaking of enemies – Why are all the cops men? The plot of the game revolves around Faith’s attempt to save her sister, the cop, but I don’t believe we ever see any other female cops. Perhaps Faith’s city relegates all the other women officers to traffic control? And what does Kate’s sister think of Faith’s mass murder of cops? While you can complete the game without killing anyone, it’s rather an exercise in masochism. Faith, trying to clear her sister of a murder charge, murders dozen of police officers. Oh well…

Once you’ve killed your share of cops and climbed your share of pipes, you find an elevator. Yes! At least you get some fun parkour after it. You also get the game’s single most satisfying bit of combat – a cop runs up to you, but happens to stand to close to the edge of some scaffolding. You can knock him off the building before he even gets a chance to pistol-whip you. If only more enemies were so easily disposed of. Surely parkour offers all kinds of opportunities for entertaining environmental kills? Speaking of the environment, Faith never really gets to change anything in it - You can break the odd pane of glass, but you're never going to make any scaffolding collapse on your pursuers, nor will you be able to dislodge the most precariously-placed jump ramp. There's one exception to this rule late in the game - It comes as quite a surprise...

“Heat” ends with some more vintage Mirror’s Edge combat, though it’s theoretically possible to avoid combat here, provided you don’t mind getting shot in the back a few times. The crane-to-crane jump is pretty awesome though – If only there were more scenes like that and fewer shootouts with over-armed cops, Mirror’s Edge might be a good game.

Chapter Four: Ropeburn

Chapter four hits the ground stumbling with another misfire of the "runner vision" system. Faith is seemingly enclosed on a rooftop, surrounded by unscalable electric fences. The hint system points her to (!) the other side of the fence. The solution to this quandary is one of head-slapping simplicity, but I have yet to see a single person figure this out without spending five to ten minutes struggling with other solutions. The blame lies (apart from the obvious ineptitude of the level designers) with the broken "runner vision" system. It is more trouble than it is worth. There were at least two instances of objects turning red as Faith walked within one foot of them in this level, meaning she only received the hint once it was clear that she no longer needed it.

Upon reaching the half-finished building that is her destination (who knows why at this point), Faith is in for more hall crawling. The puzzles here are actually decent, except for one infuriating red herring that crops up shortly after entering the building. It is a narrow room that is about two stories tall. Faith is forced to drop into the bottom of it and, as she is doing so, three vertical pipes high up on the wall flicker red. To any player, this would suggest that these pipes are the key to exiting this apparent trap. A press of the circle (i.e. the hint) button, however, points Faith to a corner of the room. After close inspection (read: minutes of aimless attempts at scaling the walls), this corner has an extremely narrow opening that leads to the exit. This raises two concerns: 1) Why THE HELL did those pipes turn red? They bore no significance whatsoever. 2) Why make the exit a narrow slit in the wall? Were the developers so unsatisfied by their first attempt at artificially increasing the game's difficulty that they felt the need to make merely walking out of a room more complicated? Maybe they finally realized that it is a bit of a stretch to make every door in the city identical in appearance, so they chose to cut back on their usage of doors.

Who is up for quicktime events? Faith is! Another helping of obnoxious exposition and, suddenly, she is getting thrown off of a building by a man with poor dental hygiene. These first person cutscenes have always seemed a bit incongruous to begin with. There are already those contrived anime-style cutscenes that play between each level and Merc's incessant babbling over the radio to provide all of the lifeless dialogue one could ever want. Why do we need first person conversation, as well? I digress, however, because very little conversation takes place here. Faith is too busy repeatedly dying over another misdirecting flash of the color red. Having played this sequence countless times, I still have absolutely no idea when the button should be pressed, because hitting the it when the game says to invariably fails.

If, by some stroke of luck, one manages to rescue Faith from her cycle of death, she gets to escape by slipping past some guards who seem to prioritize taking their scripted positions over killing you. After a ride on top of an elevator (I know!) and another bizarre attempt at comedy involving a mentally handicapped janitor, Faith reaches the subways. Ah, the subways... I have to say: This game is memorable if only for its idiosyncrasies. The interior lighting here is, once again, worth noting. This is what Swedish subways must look like. In terms of gameplay, Faith begins this section with a take on Frogger for the HD era. Enemies are more likely to run into a train's path than land a shot on Faith in this segment, so she need not pay them any mind. It is all pleasant enough but, after a somewhat unintuitive puzzle involving fans, things begin to heat up.

Faith bursts onto a catwalk overlooking another train tunnel and Merc commands her to "take the train." It is a rare moment where the developers' wishes correspond perfectly with the player's. Rocketing through the mood-lit subway tunnels at fifty miles per hour is a thrill. It goes untainted by the inclusion of obstacles, too, because Faith seems to take a high speed metal bar to the face with nothing more than a grunt. After a harrowing transfer between stations, Faith's train stops dead and she is forced to run back up the tracks to a very well labeled exit, lest she become a small piece of meat in a large steel sandwich. It is an incredibly thrilling moment and it damn near makes up for the level's many deficiencies.

This feature will be continued in Part Two.