Tag Archives: YouTube

Sam’s Game of the Year [2017]

 

Note from the editor:  Our friend Sam from As I Play Dying was kind enough to write a piece about his favorite game of the year.  So a big thanks to him.

Greetings, Bonus Worlders; it’s Sam from Bonus World subsidiary “As I Play Dying.” I’m overwhelmingly pleased to see our channel absorbed into the all-consuming singularity of Bonus World Industries, LLC, TMI, TLC, OMG.

Our dear, bearded friend, Ari, asked us to write a bit about the great games we’ve been playing in 2017 (and a bit about the shitty ones too). I was delighted to participate. As I sat down to bang out some insightful criticism of this year’s roster, however, I ran into a complication.

I have played exactly four games released in 2017. Four. Like, one hand’s worth, thumb notwithstanding.

So, unfortunately for you and for Ari, instead of adhering to the appropriate format, I’m instead going to give you the lowdown on what I played this year–all of which has been interesting and fun in different ways.

Image result for Pyre

#1: PYRE
Originally, this article was supposed to start with a Game of the Year selection: and, if I were still enough of a gamer to populate the article, Pyre would be my choice, hands down. The third release from San Francisco-based developer Supergiant Games, Pyre is somewhere between “a party-based RPG in which you lead a band of exiles to freedom through an ancient competition spread across a vast, mystical purgatory,” and a “fantasy basketball simulator.”

If I had heard “fantasy basketball simulator” (or FBS, as the genre has become known) before I purchased the game, I might have skipped it entirely; I don’t like sports in life or in video games, no matter how fantastical their setting. However, in addition to being the most groundbreaking FBS of 2017, Pyre is also an engaging narrative, set in an engrossing fantasy world and full of enchanting characters.

I’ll point this out up front: you’re gonna notice a theme in the games I’ve chosen to play this year. They’re all very focused on their stories and characters more than any sort of revolutionary gameplay features, graphics, or other such things. I’m more into fluff than crunch. Bearing that in mind, from its opening screen, Pyre progresses like a novel that you can’t put down. The game opens on the discovery of the player character, known only as the Reader, by three wandering, robed companions. All of you have been cast out of your native society to an inescapable wasteland known as The Downside: or, at least, inescapable by any means but one. The victor in a series of sacred challenges known as the Rites may be able to restore their freedom and return in glory to their homeland, their sins absolved.

Image result for Pyre

As Pyre progresses, you begin to uncover deeper and deeper layers and discoveries about the world you’ve left, the world you inhabit, and the people with whom you share it. The game’s story unfolds at a wonderful pace, balancing the ongoing preparation for and travel to and from the Rites with the mounting tension of an imminent challenge against a new Triumvirate–another team of exiles equally bent on earning their freedom. And, by the time you reach its final moments, the game’s story will take you and your friends in the Downside in directions you couldn’t possibly have predicted, and will face you with choices that feel heavy. I reloaded previous saves on more than one occasion to undo a decision that I couldn’t bear to live with.

Pyre doesn’t punish you for your choices, though; indeed, by the developers’ own admission, the game’s first inspiration was to explore the consequences of defeat and the process of rallying after misfortune. Pyre’s story is actually built to progress regardless of your performance. Whether you are the most amazing Reader to ever walk the Downside, or you can’t tell your opponent’s pyre from your own sphincter, life will go on and the story will continue. For this reason, Pyre is one of the most engrossing stories I’ve ever played, even outside 2017.

Image result for Pyre

Besides its exemplary narrative quality, the care and passion of Supergiant comes through in every other aspect of the game experience: Darren Korb has devised another stylish soundtrack full of unique charm and fascinating sounds; Logan Cunningham delivers another amazing performance as the disembodied voice guiding you, sometimes forcefully, across the Downside; and Jen Zee’s vibrant artwork brings the whole world to life. The gameplay is, honestly, very challenging at times, but even in its most infuriating moments did not feel cheap or broken, and overcoming a challenger with a flawless play is deeply satisfying. Matches can become edge-of-your-seat slugfests as you weave around your opponents to set up the field to score. And aside from the core gameplay, Supergiant throws in tons of secondary content to make their world feel alive and fun to experience, including an in-world soundtrack in the form of a traveling minstrel and a practice arena that can raise your characters’ abilities. The player is guided through the considerable world lore via an intuitive hyperlink system embedded in dialogue; and, as a personal aside, Supergiant gets major bonus points for the best method of dealing with player-character gender that I’ve encountered.

Every element of Pyre works so well as part of the whole. The game is exceptional. I cornered Greg Kasavin, Supergiant’s writer and designer, at PAX 2017 to thank him for giving me such a great experience, and I’m terrified of speaking to people. I can’t recommend the game highly enough to anyone who wants to experience an amazing story in a beautiful world.

 

The Problem With #ContentCreation

I’ve been staring at this copy of Nioh for about a week now, waiting for the right moment to start it up and really put some time into it.  There’s been no shortage of opportunities for me to begin, like right now for instance, but I haven’t yet and probably won’t for a while.  That goes for the other games I just bought like For Honor, The Last Guardian and Steep.  So what’s the problem here?

It probably all stems from the fact that I cover games in some capacity via a blog and a YouTube channel.  I’ve noticed this happen since I’ve started down this dark path of #contentcreation. I stopped viewing games as good times and interesting experiences, and started doing mental gymnastics to figure out a way to make a video out of it.

But that’s the world we live in now, isn’t it?  If you want to be relevant or even be heard, you have to maximize every opportunity to capitalize on everything that comes out, when it comes out.  Even now, I hope that my requests for review copies on upcoming games will get fulfilled, just so I can post a video of it that will be drowned by bigger outlets the second the embargo is up.  It’s happened to me before and I’m sure it won’t be the last time.  It’s this constant treadmill of video and article creation I’m on that’s robbing me of just enjoying a game I bought.

Towards the end of 2015 I noticed this happening more and more, and it worried me.  I was trying to monetize everything I did in service of getting some views on the internet.  I put off playing a lot of games until I could get my co-host to come in and record something so we could put it up and entertain what little fans we had.  It burned me out, ruined a friendship, and caused me to reevaluate what exactly I was actually pursuing.  But that was and still is the curse of being a #contentcreator on the internet.  Your work owns you, and if you don’t have that compulsion and love for creating and producing, it will eat you alive.

Honestly I still haven’t successfully scratched that article writing, video producing itch I’ve had for years.  Hell, it’s what I’m working towards doing professionally with my life, because I love doing it. But when a game comes out, I still think about how I could capitalize on it or how “I could make a video out of this”.  I’m always thinking about my stupid 2017 version of a portfolio and how I can beef it up.  Because I’m genuinely scared that if I don’t chase the next trending topic, I’ll never get noticed or hired anywhere in this industry.

It’s a tough pill to swallow, but it’s something that I need to learn. I won’t be breaking stories, or reviewing the biggest games on day one.  I won’t be able to produce as polished and time consuming content like bigger outlets can.  But realizing that isn’t the same as giving up, it’s more about tempering expectations but still working as hard as I can.  Partly because I so desperately want to succeed and be vindicated for the work I’ve done, and also because I’m just compelled to.

It’s all derived from being a creative person, and I don’t say that to sound pretentious in any way.  Everyone in this industry has at leastsome sort of creative flair.  Some people are musicians, or painters or writers on top of producing #content about video games.  And just like many of them, I can’t turn it off.  I always want to be doing or making something and flexing that part of my mind that decided it would be a fun idea to be a writer instead of an electrician or something and forego any semblance of fiscal responsibility.

It’s this weird brain damage that I think we all have where we just can’t sit still and exhale the day we’ve just had.  We don’t relax for too long because we’ll just feel guilty about it.  The toughest part for me is learning to not let that guilt own me.  I should be driven and strive to achieve my goals, and I am.  It’s why I’m writing this article instead of going to the gym or cleaning my apartment.  The thing that I and others like me need to understand is not to let those goals become obsessions.

So what I’m saying is I guess I’ll play Nioh already… or like live-stream it or something.

Combo Broken

Sometimes my mind wanders and I think about what the high school version of myself would say about where my life has ended up.  If I could go back in time I’d hope the younger me would heed my warnings, pick a direction and stick with it.  Then I remember that I was a little shithead who never took anything seriously and just talk about how cool it would be if weed were legal and eat some Cheez-Its.

I was a tremendous asshole back then and while a lot has changed, a lot stayed the same.  I still am a jerk from time to time, I still have an unhealthy obsession with video games, and somehow, I kept a lot of my old friends.  At least for a while I did.

Four or five years ago I started following the world of online video production very closely.  The idea of content creation and being my own boss was incredibly appealing.  It was a very “pie in the sky” moment for me.  The market hadn’t become over saturated with gaming content and coverage, (at least in the YouTube space) and it was pretty clear to see the way people would consume information was changing.  I wanted to get in on the fun, but just like in high school, I was lazy.  I wasted a lot of time and didn’t actually start anything until mid-2013.

Around April of 2013, I reached out to one of my best friends I had known since high school.  After purchasing a capture device and a microphone of questionable quality, I asked if he wanted to try this whole ‘let’s play’ thing with me.  I explained to him the premise, showed him some examples of existing channels and he seemed to really be into it.  We brainstormed some names we should use, and somehow ended up going by “The Combo Breakers”.  This was a name I would ultimately come to hate.

Everything seemed great at first.  My best friend and I were hanging out more than ever, playing video games and just talking like we normally did.  The only difference was that from here on out, there was a microphone in front of us.  We would record once or twice a week and then I’d edit and upload the finished products.  I’d then blast them out on social media and various Reddit boards.  I was having fun, some of the most fun I’d had in a long time.

“No one ever starts off doing it right.”  That was a lesson I learned very quickly while pursuing this new hobby.  We had a ton of audio and editing issues considering this was my first time doing anything like this.  But after a few months I had a system going, I knew my shit and started to demand more of myself… and my friend.  I was able to discern very quickly what was working and what wasn’t.  I canned plenty of garbage we’d created because I refused to put my name to it.  My friend wasn’t blind to this either, it’s what made him a valuable partner.  As TCB (The Combo Breakers) started to gain traction and get some fans that weren’t people we knew, we started feeling pretty good about ourselves.  We were producing great content on a regular schedule. Then the realities of real life started to set in.

Our schedules didn’t line up all the time, and we were out of content.  This led to me inviting another friend to be apart of the channel..  The three of us would then become the core of the channel and continue to churn out great content.  I was especially proud cause I felt a sense of ownership. Maybe it was buying the components, or being the editor or plugging our stuff on the internet, but I held TCB very close to me.  So close that I started to treat my friends more like employees and less like people I’d made great memories with.

For months, I would push my friends to come over and make more videos.  We barely interacted outside the channel anymore.  I was possessed and my friends saw it.  We’d fight about it, they’d call me out for being a slave driver, I’d fire back at them for not helping me on the back end of the channel.  It was the nerdiest version of a bad marriage ever.

All the time this was happening, we were getting tons of praise from other small content creators which only served to justify my actions and behaviors.  I wanted this to be successful, I wanted us to be able to do this forever and be comfortable.  However, my ambitions overshadowed the reality of the situation.  I was ruining a friendship over a channel that had 100 subscribers.  It’s all so dumb when I think about it now.

This tension built up around us and listening back to some videos from that time, I can hear us getting more aggressive with each other.  Eventually though, it got the better of us, and I shut down the channel in anger.  I hated what it did to me, and what it did to us.  The worst part about it all was I damaged my friendships, all for basically nothing.

I went on and created a new channel with some other friends of mine.  It only lasted for a few months, but I greatly improved every aspect of what TCB was.  New microphones, new software, new artwork.  Everything was polished in a way that TCB wasn’t.  Ultimately I ended that channel because I reconciled with my old co-hosts, and we brought The Combo Breakers back in a massive way with some new members on board.

Every bit of polish was put into TCB, and the content was better for it.  Everything before then was now shit, and I hated it.  We were growing twice as fast as we had before, and things seemed okay between us personally.  Although, we still didn’t really interact outside of the channel.  Maybe that was us acknowledging that our friendship worked in high school, it worked in college, but couldn’t withstand this makeshift employment.

We kept it going for another year and got more popular than any of us ever thought we would.  We finally decided to call it quits again, and this time for good.  We got new jobs, one of us even  got engaged and moved in with his fiancé which made distance and travel a factor.  Scheduling started to not line up anymore, and content was drying up.  I knew what was coming, and I was okay with it this time.  I talked to them about it, and while they weren’t enthused about the situation, I think they understood.

I put a bullet in the channel and wrote a nice goodbye note and made a video about it. I thanked everyone who ever helped me make that channel great, but made a point to thank the first friend I brought aboard the most.  I felt like I sacrificed the most with him.  The Combo Breakers effectively ended my friendship with him and I wish I could say I regretted it more than I do.  I may have lost a friend or two, but because of The Combo Breakers I went back to school to get a degree in media production.  This tiny, insignificant channel changed my life in some huge ways.

I think we were on this trajectory well before the channel even started.  We got out of high school and desperately clung to something that worked then. We grew apart and that’s fine.  We don’t hate each other by any means, but I think we all knew it could never be like the old days. We still occasionally talk and catch up and I think that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

I’ll still look back at The Combo Breakers and think “I could get the band back together.”  Then I remember all of this.  I’ll always appreciate the hell out of what we accomplished but I can’t do it again.  It’s time to just move forward and leave some things in the past… Like a stupidly named channel.  God damn do I hate the name ‘The Combo Breakers’.  Good riddance.