Genesis of a Gaming Sequel.

Sequels are a finicky thing. When something original is released, although decent, the merit of its originality is usually enough to overcome a minority of flaws. Now, what if it were greater than decent? You’d have lightning and thunder. Somebody’s brainchild is being realized (read: "purchased") by a storm of audiences, and in the end, they realize that every medium is finite no matter how vast. And when there’s money involved, somebody will always want more.

Enter the sequel.

The definition of a sequel, according to a nearby dictionary, is “a literary work, movie, etc., that is complete in itself but continues the narrative of a preceding work.” (Author's Note: Notice the glaring omission of our precious interactive media.)

In film, a medium we should all be very familiar with, a sequel is usually identified as the continuation of the first story, incorporating the effect of past events. If not, the tale revisits familiar characters and puts them through new, more or less dire situations. Film at its most basic is a visual tale. Therefore, we are able to correlate the connection between two films through visual cues, such as a familiar setting or the return of your favorite heroes. It’s all an authoritarian and guided experience that will never deviate, no matter how many times it is viewed.

The problem with film sequels (and prequels, sidequels, or midquels for that matter) is that the further the universe is expanded, the more worn and contrived the overarching storyline begins to seem. What was once an original and exciting new world is now the exact opposite, as a result of oversaturation.

Sometimes, some sequels should just never be made.

Gaming, however, is a much different beast.

Unlike film, gaming is not driven by narrative. Occasionally, a young auteur will attempt otherwise, but what individualizes a gaming title is the level and types of interaction it offers you. If something new is created, or if something resonates or is done well within its genre, gold will be struck. And demand of the same will be made.

As games are not generally driven by narrative, story remains to be executed and told at an infantile level. Most the time, there indeed is a narrative behind our games, but audiences are either too immature or too engrossed by their interactions to care. So in video gaming, how do we identify sequels other than an often misplaced “2” in the title (or subtitle) without story? By the continuation of a concept. It can be narrowed down into two generalizations: Refinements and reinventions.

Refinements are the most common type of gaming sequels found in the medium. In a refinement, defining gameplay concepts and ideas are carried over and polished. The ideas are always somehow furthered. Whether it’s much more streamlined or a tad bit more complicated, what made the game work in the first installment will almost always make a return. Being a better playing game isn’t always enough, though. Usually, the creators will add an extra level of playability, whether it’s as subtle as Mass Effect 2’s interrupt feature, or as extensive as Assassin Creed II’s monetary system. These extra elements add individuality to the title, “selling” its existence, while keeping the skeletal structure of the first.

A refinements thrive on an idea, no matter how flawed they were originally executed.

Reinventions are a much more less commonly made, but its definition may be a lot more broadly interpreted. Usually reinventions are thematically similar to previous titles, and they redefine what characterizes that series while staying within the genre. As vague of a definition as it may be, the fact of the matter is that not all sequels are refinements. Some titles simply look to innovate themselves, such as Super Mario Galaxy. Other titles seek to mesh or question genres such as Mass Effect 2’s streamlined RPG elements and hardcore shooting mechanics. In reinvention, genre and signature gameplay still count, but the category’s own unique magic remains in execution. It can be thought of as a reinterpretation or reimagining of a series’ charm, such as Metroid: Prime or Shadow of the Colossus.

Do you remember how shocking it was that Mario still felt like Mario?

Both categories can be easily faulted, however. An annual franchise such as Call of Duty or Guitar Hero can be easily criticized for being overdeveloped, shortening the gap of refinement in between titles. Once a brand is oversold, the existence of each entry becomes tougher to justify. Also, sometimes it’s foolish to mess with a good thing. Reinventions can quickly segue to alienation, such as the minimalistic nature of 2008’s Prince of Persia and the gritty, realistic reinterpretation of sandbox gaming in Grand Theft Auto IV. Without citing an opinion as to the actual quality of these titles, reinvention may sometimes be quick to shut off a portion of an audience’s interest once a key tried-and-true ingredient is tampered with.

Now. What is the point of outlining the genesis of a gaming sequel? A simple need for articulation. In an industry dominated by franchises, and money-seeking corporations that will try their darndest to earn a profit off a name, gamers as a whole need to realize what renders their medium unique. An interactive art is driven by the dream of interacting, not imitating a film. While we stand in line at midnight for a much-anticipated sequel, we must be able to clearly sum to ourselves what it is we’re actually expecting and realistically align our perspectives. There is not – and there will never be – anything wrong with wanting more of the same. For the sake of the evolution of our games, let’s hope we’re never too demanding to wish for a change of pace. Sequels are a finicky thing. Or they seem to be for everybody but gamers.

Read On, Friends!

Review: Bioshock 2.

What's the purpose of a video game? The obvious and most widely accepted answer here is to entertain. This is usually the primary objective for the majority of developers in the business, and what the people that buy them seek; to have fun, whether it's found in an age-old genre or an innovative new play style. Occasionally though, there's a release that plants an inkling of wonder in a player’s mind: Is that all they're for? Are they destined to reach artistic heights, and we are entitled to demand it? In reality not every person that picks up a controller ponders that while watering the grass, but it's a question that was further leveled in the public eye with the 2007 release of Bioshock.

A runaway cult hit, the game told a tale that was truly unlike any other seen in the medium. You assumed the role of Jack, a survivor of a plane crash that happened to stumble upon a fallen underwater utopia. With its foundation based on the philosophies of Objectivism, capitalism, and the banning of all censorship and religious morality, the city eventually went into siege and befell civil war. Bioshock allowed players to explore the lost city long after its great incident, and it showcased an environment that was captivating and strangely serene in its rusted beauty. The story presented itself to be just as engaging, telling a plot with a tightly wound back story, laced with mental conditioning, hypnosis, espionage and deception. It had twists and turns that arguably rival some of the best Hollywood thrillers, marking itself as a masterpiece in gaming. And guess what? It made money too.

Sequel, bitches!

The announcement of Bioshock 2 was not unlike your reaction when first hearing about S. Darko. The first game's story was complete in itself; the actions of the main character seemed to have sealed Rapture's fate one way or another. It seemed impossible for a follow-up to have the same impact as before, and it was difficult to imagine a new protagonist being as tied in to the mythology as Jack's saga was.

It's 2010 and a sequel has been released. Here's how it fared:

Bioshock 2 for the most part, is a success. The developers seemed to really care for the subject matter and have crafted an experience that definitely feels like you've returned to Rapture. As a sequel, the gameplay is extremely consistent with the first one, with polish that was absent from previous title. This time around, you are assuming the role of a Big Daddy, the iconic diving suit-wearing giant we've all grown accustomed to seeing. While this may sound gimmicky to some, 2K Marin fleshed out what may sound like a seemingly bland character into something unique. You play as 'Subject Delta', a Big Daddy with free will, hailing from the first generation of the subterranean protectors. The developers went great lengths to implement little nuances and details that sell the idea brilliantly; your shadows casts a much heftier form, landing falls and jumps make satisfying thuds, the corners of the screen are shadowed by the shape of the diver's helmet, etc. But apart from aesthetic consistency, there is a story behind the silent protagonist that explains the reason of his adventuring in Rapture.

Bioshock 2's setting remains in Rapture obviously, but its events occur roughly ten years after the original. In the midst of Rapture's social and cultural disarray, political activist (and former rival of Andrew Ryan) Sofia Lamb has risen to power. Forming a cult known as the Rapture Family, Sofia has enlisted the aid of Splicers and various other political figures to do her bidding, uniting them in a communist-like state that rebels against Rapture's founding philosophies. The plot thickens when Subject Delta wakes up from a ten year nap, and comes to the realization that his Little Sister (who is grown up now) is missing. It doesn't help that she's Sofia's daughter. It also doesn't help that former Little Sisters are back under the sea, wreaking havoc as the dangerously fast Big Sisters. Here we go again.

Avoiding story specifics for the sake of the review being spoiler-free, it's already fairly well known that 2K Marin had the mammoth task of somehow crafting a story as engaging as the first Bioshock. Expectedly, it's one of the few aspects the deteriorated in their transition to the sequel. For the former half of the campaign, your actions and the reasoning for certain objectives remain unclear as to why they're being performed. Once again, shifty sounding characters ask for favors over your walkie-talkie, and the only reason you're helping them is because the game requires you to do so. If you're a fan of the first game, it begins to feel too familiar for a bit too long, before the formula is delightfully shattered halfway through. The existence of the game feels unnecessary for a large portion of your adventure until revelations begin to unveil five or six hours in. Despite this, the game is without a doubt worth experiencing if you're a fan of the lore.

What's most alienating about the plot is how forced the character of Sofia Lamb feels. Audio logs depict her as being a prominent character to Rapture's public, having her rival Ryan's power in what seemed to be a very demanding spat on both their parts. For being such an important figure in the fall of Rapture, her name and likeness is never presented in the previous Bioshock title, leaving behind an ugly taste of retroactive continuity. The story seems to be tailored to excuse the revisiting of Rapture. While it doesn't become at all engaging until the final act, the game does appear to be much better focused in telling its tale. Forgoing any explanation of the origins of Rapture, plasmids, Jack or Andrew, the story is much easier to comprehend although those new to the universe will indeed be lost.

But how does it play? The campaign is admittedly much more action oriented, with the majority of plasmids and weapons arriving early in your adventure. The guns seem weighty and organic with Subject Delta wielding them, whether they’re fused to his suit or not. Plasmids are back of course, and the ability to utilize them while unloading your firearm is now available. The game encourages experimentation, with nearly all the plasmids being available in the opening hours. Hacking also makes a return, and this time, it doesn’t require an entire menu to complete it. Whether it’s a turret, security bot or vending machine, hacking is an integral portion of the game that can reward you with health, store discounts or even a new way to fight enemies. The overall combat does feel familiar, but it’s touches such as dual-wielding and real-time hacking that propels it to new heights.

Morality choices is another familiar thing as well; and luckily it isn’t as contrived and simplistic as sparing or harvesting a Little Sister. While that same choice is once again found here, the story introduces moments that venture further than the pressing of one button or another. Optional objectives present themselves to you, allowing you to choose the focus of Subject Delta’s legacy. The repercussions of your choices are acknowledged through character dialogue and obviously up to the final cut scene. It’s a huge improvement over the ‘cut and paste’ ending found in the first game depending on your interaction with the Little Sisters.

Interaction with the Little Sisters has been deepened to a gratuitous extent. Since you assume the role of a Big Daddy, you may slaughter a fellow Daddy and gain the affection of his accomplice. Here, you have the choice to harvest her for any Adam (the currency required to purchase plasmids and their upgrades) she may be carrying, or you may adopt her and carry her on your shoulder until you find a Splicer corpse filled with enough Adam for her extract. These extraction sequences involve her plunging a syringe into the corpse for several minutes, with you there to protect the vulnerable child. These sequences are basically stationary escort missions, and there are as many as twenty five of these in the game. They indeed do become tiring to perform but the copious amount of Adam received for completing them is well worth it (even though it’s an artificial way of extending your playtime).

Rapture is Rapture. The environments you storm through in this game resemble the same environments you did from the first. Although they’re different areas and districts of Rapture, the awe and realization of exploring a dilapidated underwater utopia is largely gone. The setting is identical to the first, with the exception of brief, linear underwater treks you embark on every other hour. This is both a disappointment and positive aspect. It’s positive because what makes Bioshock such a compelling series is its environment alone. And disappointing because the general vibe this game evokes is that there were no risks taken in the conceptualization of the sequel. Bioshock 2 is largely the same experience, with more guns, better controls, a much more cohesively told story.

Liberties taken with the universe such as brief and intense confrontations with Big Sisters, the tragic origins of the Big Daddies, and the Aldous Huxley inspired ramblings of Dr. Lamb are much easier to appreciate considering that they’re one of the few unique characteristics that personalize Bioshock 2 into its own experience. The fact that the game is mostly the same is understandable when the prequel is largely considered a masterpiece among circles. Despite this, it still would have been interesting and bold to see a much more personal story told, without the writers attempting to interpret the first game’s events and causes to their own benefit. Despite these frustrations, I recommend this game to fans of the first. Rapture has been recreated and it’s as beautiful and tragic as ever. Big Daddies haunt the hallways of Rapture, moaning in a serene and hypnotic nature that will forever remain unique. In between the modern warfares, plastic instrument rhythm games, and co-op shooters, there truly is no other experience identical to the Bioshock name. And if that is something that intrigues you, I wholeheartedly encourage you to play this.

- Jules.

(Two fucking sittings. No, it's not short. It's really fun and I like making bloody messes with my drill.)

Read On, Friends!