Wii U as Portable Console: Lessons from Sega's Nomad

The Wii U has launched and Nintendo loyalists are busy testing out the console with their non-gaming loved ones.   One of the big selling points of the system is its ability to play full games on the Gamepad controller's built-in touchscreen, without the need to turn on the TV.  According to the marketing pitch, this feature frees up the TV for other members of the household and makes it possible to play Wii U games in otherwise TV-less rooms.  Word on the street is that the Gamepad can be taken about 20 feet away from the console and still hold a strong enough connection to function.  So, within a moderate range of the Wii U game box, the system has the ability to act as a portable home console video game system.

This is an exciting revelation, but not the first time something like this has been attempted.  Sega's Nomad was a fully functional portable Genesis, released toward the end of the 16-bit era in 1995.  The Nomad was short-lived, but it's easy to see some lessons that Nintendo could have taken from the system, and surprisingly, some missteps they failed to avoid.

Console and portable games have traditionally felt very distinct from one another, with portable games usually falling into one of two camps: those built uniquely for the on-the-go experience, focusing on short bursts of play, and games that act as little siblings or sidestories to their canonical console relatives.  The Nomad's promise of portability for standard console titles brought a different pedigree of games to this market.  I owned one, and often used it to play Sonic the Hedgehog 2 at my brother's basketball games.  While there had been some decent portable Sonic games on the Game Gear, those titles never held a candle to to the mainline series on the Genesis.

The Wii U Gamepad allows portable gaming of full console games around the house, designed with an active, social household in mind.  Had the Nomad been more successful, it could have set the precedent for this kind of family oriented gaming platform.  The Nomad could be plugged into a TV for big-screen viewing, and had an on-board controller port for a second player to join in.  Though if the Nomad was not attached to a TV a second player would have to look over the shoulder of whoever was holding the 3 inch screen (the original asynchronous multiplayer?), at least the there was the option.  The Wii U Gamepad only offers a solo experience, at least for the time being.

One feature where the Wii U definitely has an advantage over the Nomad is in ergonomic design.  Comparing the two is like putting an iPad next to one of those old, bulky cellphones from the 80s.  The Nomad was shaped like a brick with a battery block containing 6 AAs stuck on its back, making the system kind of weigh like a brick too.  The Wii U Gamepad is surprisingly light and features all manner of contours that make you feel like it was designed to be held by human hands.  The Wii U's touchscreen is large and prominent in its design, while the Nomad's LCD monitor is a bit dwarfed by the rest of the machine.

The reports of short Wii U battery life are a bit troubling, but anything was likely to be an improvement over the Nomad's power storage woes.  It seems the Wii U Gamepad can last anywhere from 3-5 hours depending on screen brightness, whereas you couldn't expect to last much more than 2 hours using the Nomad's rechargeable pack.  However, considering that the Nomad was a full-on game system in handheld form as opposed to the Wii U's mere video relay, the Gamepad's stunted battery life is pretty underwhelming.  That said, since the Wii U isn't expected to leave the house, Nintendo seems to be anticipating that AC power will be reasonably accessible if the situation calls for it.

The Nomad's failure was a product of circumstance as much as anything else.  It was released at the tail end of the Genesis' lifespan as consumers rallied excitement for the upcoming 32-bit machines.  The Genesis hardware was also widely recognized and often derided for its glut of unsupported add-ons like the Sega-CD and the 32X.  The Nomad debuted behind these other peripherals and likely suffered from the resulting market fatigue and loss of credibility in Sega's ability to release competent supplemental hardware for their 16-bit machine.  Additionally, if you had a 32X, you couldn't even hook it up to the Nomad because it blocked the AC output port.

The Wii U's Gamepad is poised for a greater chance of success.  It's a necessary part of the standard Wii U experience, bundled in with the console's launch.  The Gamepad is also multifunctional, making its ability to be a portable console not the sole make-or-break feature of the device.  Since the Gamepad is billed as an at-home device, it's not up against the iPad in terms of portability.  The Wii U Gamepad may not reach true portable console status since it can't leave the house, but it seems to recognize its limits and owns them.  With the 3DS and Vita struggling to gain substantial market presence in the face of iOS and Android games, Nintendo certainly doesn't need to make a go at a true Nomad successor.  Instead, Nintendo has wisely incorporated Nomad-like features into their Wii U Gamepad to make that controller incredibly versatile and adaptive to a plethora of home gaming situations.

No One Expects the Martian Inquisition!: Jamestown (Mac) Review

For most arcade-style games, directed storytelling is more about setting up a premise than fleshing out a plot in cinematic detail.  Take top-down shooters for example.  These games were born out of the arcade scene, full of other games loudly competing for players' attention with the promise of instant action at the drop of a quarter.  It's simply an understanding that you'll pilot some kind of aircraft and shoot everything that moves before they shoot you.  What's the plot of Galaga?  Of Raiden?  Of Ikaruga?  Space Invaders pretty much says it all in the title.  The aliens aren't Space Explorers, they're Invaders!  You have to defend your ground.

In contrast, indie shoot 'em up nostalgia trip, Jamestown, features a story that's a clash of such disparate elements that the product is undeniably memorable.  You see, the colonial American settlement Jamestown is actually on Mars.  Neighboring towns are under attack by Spanish/Martian conquistadors, donning pointy metal helmets and curly mustaches.  You play as Raleigh, a convicted criminal back in London (also on Mars?), who's looking to do anything to clear his name.  Turns out what's needed is to hop aboard some kind of flying buggy, alongside John Smith of course, and fight back against a particularly evil conquistador bent on using an ancient Martian weapon.

Like many video game stories, the basic setup boils down to "fight back," but Jamestown takes its history/sci-fi mashup backdrop and brings it to realization with a deep sincerity that gives you room to care about it.  Between levels, narrative unravels via text as exquisitely painted scenes pan across the screen.  Serene, contemplative strings set the stage.  The writing is from Raleigh's perspective and has an air of "letters from the front," written from the point of view of a downtrodden, educated man in a situation that only rewards keen instincts.

For players, having your wits about you is the utmost importance.  Jamestown is born out of the same space shooter tradition that regards "bullet hell" as a revered pastime.  There are 5 difficulty options and I highly recommend you begin with the easiest one.  This makes initial runs through levels breezy and empowering.  You'll have to rank up to at least the third difficulty level to unlock the last stage, but the game tiers you up to the challenge in preparation.  The story plays a strong role in incentivizing replay and practice.  I wanted to see what would happen after the final confrontation, or rather, I wanted to read what Raleigh had to say about it.  I'm not putting this on the same plane with, say, indulging in a FMV cutscene after a hard fought Final Fantasy battle, but it's in the same vein.

When the credits do roll, you're treated to Jamestown's real-world narrative in a message from the developers at Final Form Games: a team of only 3 people.  It says that the team had to spend two years and the majority of their savings to make Jamestown, followed by a heartfelt "Thanks for playing!"  If Jamestown's colonial America/Martian shoot 'em up outlay seems a bit farfetched as a player, imagine deciding to take that gamble as a developer and an investor.  The love of classic games is apparent, but Final From shows that games of this style have legs, particularly as value-priced downloadable titles, where their arcade-embedded predecessors always struggled: on the home front.

Jamestown has an in-game "shoppe" where you can trade in ducats (yes, ducats) earned from excelling in the campaign to unlock bonus challenges, weapons, and game modes.  All of this is par for the course nowadays, but I was particularly smitten with the unique "Farce Mode."  Even though Jamestown's story is one of its primary standout features, it's great to see the developers have a little fun with how ridiculous it all is.  With Farce Mode enabled, gameplay is unchanged, but Raleigh's story text is replaced with a guided preschool history dictation of the events in the game.  "Have you ever heard of Mars?  I bet you have," It begins.  The first segment ends in Nick Jr. fashion, exclaiming "Let's solve [the] mystery together!"  Farce Mode is a hilarious, knowing send-up of Jamestown's insane premise, but you're unlikely to unlock it before completing most of the regular story, keeping the core experience from being detrimentally self-referential, as so much game humor tends toward.

Sticking staunchly to the arcade formulas of old, right down to its impossibly dense 2D sprite art, Jamestown could have been a nostalgia-chasing also-ran, but instead it integrates storytelling that charms and invites.  There's not a ton of room to maneuver in the narrowly focused top-down shooter genre, a type of game that has struggled to gain a foothold outside of arcades, but Jamestown boasts the best of both worlds.

Review: BIT.TRIP RUNNER (Mac)

Prerequisite: check out this video of an individual demonstrating their mastery of the game/toy Bop It.  It's best if you watch the whole thing, but I understand if you become impatient and bail early. BIT.TRIP RUNNER is a video game version of Bop It.  No, it's not an official tie-in, but the mechanics are transferred nearly verbatim.  In RUNNER you control a character who must dodge obstacles as the environment force-scrolls past.  Directional buttons trigger block, kick, slide, and vault actions while the spacebar executes a jump.  These moves are sort-of tied in to the accompanying music score, but mostly you rely on visual discernment to time and select your actions.  Like Bop It, one false move while playing will stop you in your tracks and force you to try again from the beginning.  Also like Bop It, you can beat and master RUNNER, but doing so is like learning to play a song that no one wants to listen to on an instrument that doesn't really exist.

When it came time for me to decide what I wanted to play in my grade school band, I chose percussion.  Drumming seemed more fun than brass or woodwinds, but I was also more confident in my ability to keep a beat over maintaining melody.  My sister took piano lessons, which I was encouraged to take as well, but never did.  We got a programmable electric piano at home eventually, and rather than actually play conventional music, I'd setup the percussion kit that assigned individual drums and cymbals to specific keys and make all sorts of noise.  There was also a neat trick you could do by pressing two low-octave "square lead" keys at the same time, producing some pretty satisfying bass rumbles.  I own a MPC drum machine, though it's been sorely underused.  I adore Rez and was a die-hard DDR player for several years.  In short, though I would not call myself a musician of any kind, I know my way around button/key-based beat making.  On its surface, I should love BIT.TRIP RUNNER.

Unfortunately for me, RUNNER plays how I always feared piano lessons would go: demanding, unforgiving, and with a slavish dedication to someone else's creativity rather than my own. In RUNNER, you can't study notes on a page to prepare, you must react in real time and memorize the level's patterns through failure.  At most, you have a full second to recognize what object is heading your way and tap the appropriate key to evade or deflect.  Each time you screw up, it's like the piano instructor wraps your knuckles with a ruler and points to the first note on the sheet.  If you play a piano piece correctly, you enjoy the satisfaction of hard-earned accomplishment along with the joy of hearing a song that you presumably like.  In RUNNER, you just earn arbitrary points and the music you've produced only occasionally sounds like a song.  There is no level editor or any way of really getting hands-on with the mechanics beyond the prescribed courses.

People have compared RUNNER to mobile games like Canabalt and Temple Run for their similar, forced running perspectives.  Both Canabalt and Temple Run use randomized obstacles and challenge players to get farther than their previous attempt, but as far as I'm aware, neither has endpoints.  RUNNER is broken up into 36 preset levels, and withholds progression until you complete the stage prior.  The big difference between RUNNER and something like Canabalt is how you feel after triggering a fail state.  With Canabalt it feels like the game playfully dares you to try it again.  You know losing is inevitable, but it's fun to try and get farther than last time.  In fact, "losing" isn't really "losing," it's just the end of the round.  Retries in RUNNER are instantaneous.  If you forget to kick a box on cue, the game zips you back to the start of the stage, and after a brief moment you're back on your way again.  I applaud Gaijin Games for making the process so snappy, but subsequent runs feel more like a matter of survival than heartfelt attempts on the part of the player. You're trapped in the gameplay loop until you either win or cry "uncle" and quit.

There are collectable gold bars throughout RUNNER that encourage a more daring style of play, but the game doesn't offer rewards that merit the effort required to snatch them all.  If you do collect every gold bar in a level you can play a bonus Pitfall-styled area, which is neat a couple times, but not 30+.  You only get one try at the bonus levels per completion of a regular stage, which means you may have spent a half hour trying to get a perfect run, only for your "prize" to last a fleeting handful of seconds.  The numerous retries on regular levels pushed me to ignore the gold bars as much as I could, eliminating several tricky maneuvers from my regimen, but also rendering the music more spartan, lacking the distinctive chimes emitted by grabbing the bars.  You could interpret the game as an incisive metaphor for the daily, 9-5 grind perpetuated by an uncompromising capitalist economy, but that's an unearned credit.  Instead, playing BIT.TRIP RUNNER feels like a really difficult motor skills exam – something for the sport stacking set.

I'm being pretty hard on RUNNER, but it does have its merits.  Visually, the game renders Atari 2600 graphics as 3D cubic blocks to grinning, stylistic effect.  If you collect enough point multipliers in a level, an old-school Activision rainbow will tail behind the titular runner as it goes – RUNNER's incentivization at its most effective.  Mechanically, the game is as sharp as it gets.  Though it asks for tight precision, failure is never the result of ambiguous design.  I could knock the effectiveness of RUNNER's musical implementation, but having listened to the soundtrack outside of the game, their track selection is appropriate and catchy.  Lastly, I began this review by comparing RUNNER to Bop It, but I should point out that I actually like Bop It.  It's a party icebreaker game that asks players to focus their attention, likely in a social situation that requires otherwise – a humorous juxtaposition.  As an unfortunate point of contrast, there just isn't much to laugh about in RUNNER.

Still, there are clearly a lot of people who dig what BIT.TRIP RUNNER brings to the table, and far be it from me to say not to like something people seem to enjoy, but the game feels masochistic for nostalgia's sake.  There's no denying its style, but you'd be hard pressed to locate any real substance here.  And if you choose to play BIT.TRIP RUNNER, make no mistake, you will be pressed...hard.