I can easily say that my time here has been well spent. Kotaku taught me more than Stanford University's graduate program in journalism ever did and gave me the chance to write about things I really care about. You know, instead of just boobs, Japanese role-playing games and scandals. Not that I mind writing about those things — actually when you combine all three, it can be pretty fun — but the world of video games is a lot larger than that. That's part of why I went to Stanford; to convince them that this is a subject that deserves the attention of journalism, and yes, being a games journalist is compatible with being a "real" journalist.

*After Leigh Alexander and Maggie Greene moved on, that is.

Here are some of the things I'm most proud of:

Knocked Up: A Look At Pregnancy in Video Games — I'd been pitching this feature idea for years to different publications, but Kotaku was the only outfit that let me run with it. I still find the topic fascinating and I still go out of my way to play games that let you get pregnant in some fashion. It's very much my "thing."

Pieces of You: Rebuilding Myself on Consoles — Breakups suck, but my work at Kotaku got me through a really nasty one. I still can't believe Stephen Totilo let me keep the Jewel song title in the headline.

Kotaku's Super Huge Pumpkin Patch (Parts One, Two, Three and Four) — I'm a sucker for crafts projects and I find that there's no other video game blog on the Internet that makes room to post stuff like this as well as shoes, cakes, video game wedding stuff, etc. It took me three hours on Halloween weekend to upload all those images, but it was worth it.

Girls Night With The Most Male Game Of 2009 — Yes, it pissed people off. Yes, I got death threats. But what's most important to me is that this article got people talking. I'm still amazed when I skim through the comments at some of the genuinely thoughtful discourse that goes on in there. Hope to see more of it where I'm going. And I still hope to see women in Modern Warfare 3.

My Master's Project, "Writing About Video Games: Journalism, Criticism and Mainstream Media" — I can't let the full copy of this 7000-word beast see the light of day yet because in my mind, it's still not "done." While working on it, I got the chance to interview Totilo before he jumped ship for Kotaku, N'Gai Croal as he was leaving Newsweek, Seth Schiesel from the New York Times, Jamin Brophy-Warren of the Wall Street Journal and Georgia Tech Associate Professor Ian Bogost — it was an all star cast. Kotaku made that possible by giving me access to these heavy-hitters and its articles make up about a quarter of my source list. Here's a tiny sample of my conclusion:

Time will tell if Schiesel and Brophy-Warren's editors care enough about video games to move their coverage into a more prominent place either in the print edition or in the online arts and entertainment section. If that happens, maybe their stories with replace the "point and giggle" stories in mainstream media. Time will tell if a vocabulary for talking about games emerges that are integrated into pop culture the way words and phrases like "Western" and "tear-jerker" can describe a movie to an audience that hasn't seen it. If that doesn't happen, words and phrases like "gameplay" or "free-look" and "sandbox" used in the reviews that most games journalism produces will remain impenetrable jargon specific to video games hobbyist magazines. Time might also make room for games journalism to grow up a little bit more, to develop into something that can be understood all 228 million American adults instead of just the 114 million who play them.

Well, that about does it for me. Take care of yourselves and take care of each other. Have a happy, safe, New Year!

Image Cred

I suppose I'm not "qualified" to write a "review" because I haven't finished the game, and that something enormous enough to change my opinion of the game completely might spring up in the final three seconds of the end credits. I'm neither a pessimist, an optimist, nor a realist when I say that I'm guessing this isn't going to happen. I'm just being me. For god's sake, if the first twenty-five hours of your entertainment experience are not at least 90% indicative of its overall value, then you're doing at least one thing terribly wrong.

To summarize the experience of Final Fantasy XIII, I would like to use

Once I'm done with this, we can go right into the talking-about-a-videogame part:

When I was fifteen, I played Final Fantasy VI. It was one of the better things I had, by that point in my life, ever experienced. Let me tell you how I got the game: I rented it, once, from a video store that had only one copy of it. I played it for an hour and fell into a mesmerized type of love. Then I fell ill with a terrible ear infection. My fever climbed to around 104 degrees Fahrenheit. Little did I know, I would be suffering these frequent ear infections for the rest of my life. I have Weird Ears. I have the same condition that made Beethoven deaf. They just didn't know, back in his day, how to stick a hypodermic needle through the eardrum to suck the blood out. Poor guy — he missed a chance to hear Beethoven's 9th before he died.

Well, with that ear infection all up in my stuff, I couldn't play the game. This was the precise shape of my torture: I lay there in bed, feeling underwater, and feverish, with severe head pain, thinking about Final Fantasy III (that's what we called it back then), in thatplastic case from our generic video store (this was before they built a Blockbuster right next door) lying on the floor, untouched. What terrible guilt it is, to rent a game and then not be able to play it! It's maybe worse than going to see a movie you really want to see and having to get up to do a deuce right as it's getting to the good part. The guilt, back then, tore me up about as badly as the ear infection tore me up.

The next week, I tried to rent it again. It didn't work. Someone else had the game. Damn it! The next week, the same thing. They said it was due back on Saturday, if I'd be willing to pick it up on Saturday. They said they'd call when it was in. They didn't call. I went in anyway. It turned out the previous renter was keeping it a couple more days. Those couple days would turn out to be a couple of, like, groups of seven days.

Eventually, a minor department store chain called Kohl's hilariously featured Final Fantasy III in their Sunday flier despite their actually not selling games at any of the locations in my town. They said it was $52.96. What a weird price! At Electronics Boutique (that's what we called "EB" back then), it was $79.99, though they also promised to do the price-match thing. I had $48 saved up. I took in a bunch of old NES games — Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles The Arcade Game was one of them — and prayed that they would amount to at least six dollars. They did. I took Final Fantasy III home that Sunday evening. Of course, I went to bed early, so I could go to school the next day.

In last period of the next school day, the fire alarm rang. Our high school was the biggest in the state, which meant a lot of kids, which meant a lot of potential for pranks. The fire alarm got pulled all the time. This was before they put up surveillance cameras in the halls near every fire alarm. Here's why they put up security cameras: That day, just as everyone was starting to think this was just another prank, just as they were getting ready to go back inside, the brand-new six-million-dollar basketball gymnasium exploded.

We didn't have school for a week. When we got back to school, everything would suck. Metal detectors at the entrances, friskings at lunch; you'd get expelled if you were late to a class, et cetera. However, for that one week in November, by god, I had Final Fantasy VI, and there was nothing like it in the world.

Fifteen years later, I am a Real Adult who fears not expulsion and actually enjoys being frisked; I buy Final Fantasy XIII in the freezing cold at a 7-eleven in Tokyo, and play it for five hours, sleep-deprived, before getting on a train to the airport. For the first time since, well, Final Fantasy IX, I'm spending a Christmas with my family, in Indiana, in the United States of America. Final Fantasy XIII is not the thing I am most looking forward to — I am looking forward to food, to pizza and Chipotle.

Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the anti-humidity in the plane cabin dries out my top lip. As my face contorts with the agony-like joy of three days' worth of well-earned sleep, my lip breaks in three places. I wake up, two hours from landing, with blood between my front teeth. Thanks to the coughs and chokes of infants and children around me, my top lip is already miraculously infected. Twenty-four hours later I'd be eating Chicago-style pizza with green Tabasco all over it, and I tell you I have never felt so much pain related to pizza. That doesn't mean it's not still delicious.

That is what Final Fantasy XIII is like.

Okay, wait, let me say a few things about myself again before we really start talking about this game:

I haven't spent time in the "real" part of America (just California) in the last six years, so I've forgotten a lot of little things. For example, by looking at the medicine on friends' shelves here in the Midwest, I realize that, in Tokyo, over the past few years, I have not experienced:

1. Headache
2. Diarrhea
3. Gingivitis
4. Dandruff

It must have something to do with the diet, and the unavoidable daily exercise (walking).

However, in America for five days, I find myself suffering both headaches and gingivitis. I wonder if dandruff and diarrhea aren't far behind.

So, I am playing Final Fantasy XIII with a weird, meningitis-like spotty localized headache and an effervescent-like fever. I am convinced that this is, probably, the only way to play the game — that the game itself might be responsible for this weird feeling.

My friends Doug and Julie Jones and I played the game for eight straight hours at their house, from the very beginning, past the point I'd played in my living room in Tokyo, right up until the point where the story gets actually interesting. Then, with a fever — a provable, valid excuse to avoid my family for a few days — I stabbed the knife of my life into the meat of Final Fantasy XIII.

Short impressions: The game is entertaining.

Long impressions: The first thing I noticed, when playing the game on an American PlayStation 3, is that not only is it not region-locked — it is kind (?) enough to switch around the confirm / cancel buttons. I'm sure that's old news. Well, I never had any context to notice it before, so there you go.

Annnnnnyway, where the hell do I start with this game? I guess there's the issue of it being a straight line.

This one's easy: in Final Fantasy XIII, you're constantly moving forward. It's a moving-forward simulation. You know that map that emerged on the internet (here is where I type something in parentheses asking Stephen Totilo politely to find that map and insert it above or below this paragraph, whichever looks best. [Note from Stephen: Done, Tim, done!]) that demonstrates how straightforward the game is? The guy who made that map warns that it's only the first "five or six hours" of the game. Do not take this to mean that the game then becomes a Ponderosa Grand Buffet of nonlinearity immediately after the end of this map. No, loyal internetizens, the reason this Japanese dude only upped a map of the first five or six hours of the game is because he was likely playing it at breakneck pace and wanted to upload a map while the linearity of the experience was still newsworthy. He would have posted a map of the whole game if he could, and the lols would have been deafeninger, however, to do so would have been to risk a massive scoop by someone else. So he went with the first "five or six" hours.

"Five or six" is a weird number, by the way, because I got as far as that guy did in about three hours and forty-eight minutes. I know because I have literally 26 save files, because I kept forgetting that the game prompts you to make a new save file by default rather than to overwrite your old one. Maybe this is Square-Enix assuming that we might want to watch every cut-scene multiple times.

Anyway, one way to sum up Final Fantasy XIII is that it is a Horse-With-Blinders-On Simulation. It's about progress, and moving forward. It's not without a little bit of kleptomania, however, as sometimes there are little offshoots from the main path. Usually, you can see these offshoots coming a half a mile away, and, thanks to the mini-map's super-GPS level of readability, you can also see that the offshoots do, in fact, end after a distance of about ten game-world feet. This is crucial: the game's mini-map shows you the overwhelming straightness of the path, indicates the direction of your goal with a large yellow arrow, and then illustrates very clearly to you that every little offshoot is just that — an offshoot, an option. Each offshoot path is clearly a tiny fraction of the width of the main path.

At the end of each offshoot, you will find

1. A treasure
2. A monster
3. Both

You will never find

1. Neither a treasure nor a monster
2. Anything that you couldn't possibly do without

This is very important to understand.

The more important thing to understand is that, the very first time you access a save point (contextualized in-game as a kind of nifty holographic computer terminal thing), the three options are "Save" "Shop" and "Quit." "Quit" doesn't mean "quit the game" — it means quit the save point menu. "Save" means save the game. "Shop" means — yes, enter the shop.

So, there's your first clue: You shop from the save point menus. Whoa. Have you solved the mystery yet?

Here it comes — I'll be gentle: No towns.

You gasp! Sadly, the only towns you see in the first great big chunk of Final Fantasy XIII are destroyed, dilapidated, filled with monsters. The major story MacGuffin is intimately tied to this floating Utopia called Cocoon, which some religious organization sees fit to regularly purge of shady individuals, so in order for this story to work, basically no towns in the "outside" world is kind of a given. Of course, the existence of a utopia doesn't precisely guarantee that all the world outside said utopia consist of straight lines in which large objects regularly fall, obstructing the path backward. Though there's a reason for that, too.

Square-Enix have no doubt done "The Research," and the numbers have come up in favor of "Players like seeing new things." The choice, then, was to drip-feed the players new things, or to bombard them with new things. The producers of Final Fantasy XIII bet on bombardment. Final Fantasy XIII is an impish ghoul standing atop a cliff, rolling boulders of fun down on the heads of unsuspecting players. Once I, personally, learned to stop worrying and love my own willingness to forgive Final Fantasy XIII for not having any towns, I came to applaud the ballsiness of it all. They are taking a genuine risk with this game. Does it pay off? Well, yes — after about eight hours. We're going to get to that in a minute.

Let's be as positive as possible for a minute: No towns means that the story doesn't ever stop and stick. It means no wandering around a town, talking to every NPC until the least likely one gives you the perfect piece of information you need to proceed. No towns means that no caves to the north of town that are locked and inaccessible until you talk to that least likely NPC who tells you that there's a cave to the north full of monsters. With no towns, all actions in the game are seamlessly linked to the story. We are moving forward. Why are we moving forward? Because the enemy is behind us. Why are they behind us? Because they don't like us. Or: Because we miraculously managed to escape in the first place. Why the need to escape; how did it all get started? The chase is so exciting, after a point, that we don't bother answering this question.

Square-Enix's market research must have yielded the result that fans' favorite parts of RPGs are the fighting, the dungeons, the interactions between the characters, and big-budget cut-scenes. By cutting out the towns and focusing on dungeons and fights, they give the game a breathless and relentless pace. They also make the cut-scenes feel more plentiful and closer-between. In short, funneling the player down one straight path gives the game developers more (and bigger) opportunities for entertainment. Also, there's the "artificial" "difficulty" issue — have you ever gotten stuck in an RPG because you didn't know where to go or what to do, probably because the game developers didn't signpost it clearly enough? Well, that won't happen in Final Fantasy XIII.

Now, to be negative: It feels empty. Without some concrete clues that there is a world worth saving, this weird, headache-like feeling of nihilism falls down over the experience like a curtain of ash. You start to feel like the janitor at Disney World — sweeping up empty Coke bottles beneath motionless symbols of dead splendor. I suppose this is a positive as well — the game exudes atmosphere and hokey tension; the "world worth saving," as embodied in a floating utopia seen mostly in beautiful CG cut-scenes, is less a thing we know and more a thing we believe in. The game suspends your disbelief in a religion-like way. It's kind of neat, after a while, and as the characters inevitably whine their little heads off, you think, hey, I'd be [I am] whining, too. Then there's the no-freedom-like no backtracking thing: Is this the game telling you not to look back, encouraging you to enjoy the story as presented, or is it the developers fearing that to let you linger is to potentially kill your interest in the game?

As you move forward, the game delights in dropping your characters head-first into new challenges. The challenges usually require you to Kill The Monster or Fight The Boss, though hell if those monsters and bosses aren't all new. More than merely "new," most of them are near-indescribably inventive. I had a friend in elementary school who used to draw swords. He'd put all kinds of little ornaments on them. Like, there'd be a chain hanging from one side of the hilt, with a little jewel on it. He'd never even seen a Yoshitaka Amano drawing — just the box art for Zelda II: The Adventure of Link. Eventually, he graduated up a notch and started drawing "cars." No one could ever tell they were supposed to be cars. He used to lie about having a dog that was half-wolf. One day, some other kid said he saw the kid's dog, and that it might actually be half-wolf. I'd like to think that that kid got a job designing characters, monsters, and vehicles in Final Fantasy XIII. Lord knows what any of these things are, or why they're designed that way — you'll know what I mean when you invade and destroy your first flying crucifix-shaped high-speed statuesque bejeweled airship-thing — though hell if they aren't all interesting. Eventually, the weirdness transcends from puzzling to second-nature to first-nature. As the film "Avatar" absorbs you into its world by using familiar imagery of trees, beasts, and insects, Final Fantasy XIII sucks you in by surrounding you with unspeakably foreign, weird things of such staggering design consistency that you start to subconsciously believe in it. Whatever "it" is.

There are so many characters in Final Fantasy XIII that you will lose track of their names within the first twenty minutes. People are introduced, speak lines of importance, and die at a fluid pace. Soon, the game falls victim to "Star Wars Action Figure Syndrome." I just made that up: You know those aliens in the "cantina scene" of the original "Star Wars" film? They never tell you those characters' names, though they sure as hell sold action figures of nearly every one of them, and all those action figures had names. The action figures, in fact, were the only way to learn the names of those characters. Final Fantasy XIII does a lot of things like that, all over the place.

The story is confusing. No, that's not the nicest way to put it: It is masterfully confusing. The plot is a labyrinth that might actually not have a piece of cheese in the middle. The events of the first two hours exist to confound and confuse you by nonchalantly mentioning and then forgetting the weirdest words dropped into the middles and ends of the plainest sentences. A man asks a woman, "What are we doing?" And she says, "We're going after a Pulse fal'Cie." The man recoils in horror at this response. We're sitting there, holding the controller and a beverage, maybe wearing Dolby Headphones, and we're like, ". . . Uh?" My friend Doug said, "I had to read the Wikipedia entry like three times before I understood what was going on in the trailer." I like going into my gaming experiences pure, so I had neither read the Wikipedia entry nor seen any of the story bits of the trailers. The labyrinth of the plot unfurled before me, and damn near put me the hell off, until the opening scenes crescendoed in a weird clash of near unspeakable portentousness that was, at the very least, slickly presented enough to encourage me to play further. Not much further, the game jumped back in time to two days earlier, to a neat little flashback in a peaceful village. The flashback was titled "On The Eleventh Day." The first line of the game, spoken by Vanille, in voice-over, had been, "Thirteen days after I awoke, the end of the world was beginning." I had thought, at the time, that that was a neat opening line. Now the game was showing me "the eleventh day." This was the first time I got the impression that some carefully crafted plot lay dormant beneath the talky, hyperkinetic surface of this game. Hours later, they'd have revisited The Eleventh Day four more times, from the perspective of four more characters. How many more flashbacks are we going to see? I wondered.

After its opening scenes, Final Fantasy XIII's plot primarily deals with the struggle of a group of people branded by some sort of virtual consciousness, tasked with saving the world from a vague apocalypse. If they succeed, they will turn into crystals, lose their mortal lives, and exist forever. If they fail, they will turn into demon ghouls which will sadly wander the earth for eternity. Yes, I realize that's kind of weird. The game manages to treat their struggle with tasteful dignity, and the voice-acting assists the visual presentation in communicating to you what the characters are feeling or thinking. Since the game itself is about forward motion, since the immediate-, short-, and long-term goals are always clear, the writers are able to concentrate firmly on the dialogue.

It's a shame, then, that some of the characters are annoying. Hope, the little boy with a voice six years too old for his little huge-headed body, is the be-all end-all of whiners. Vanille, with her constant pep-talking, is the exact opposite. Together, they represent the absolute worst character traits of Cloud, Squall, and Tidus, split up into some hopefully ironic anti-comedy duo. At the very least, the game never asks us to identify with Hope — and maybe he'll turn into someone cool by the end, who knows? — which is good, because I don't want to identify with him. I am a grown man, for god's sake, with a job and a home of my own, and a big TV and a PlayStation 3 and a copy of Final Fantasy XIII. Kids old enough to identify with Hope wouldn't even be able to afford a PS3! Anyway, let's stop with that.

Then there's Snow. First of all, why is his name "Snow"? That's a dumb name. Hey, what does snow come from? What does it fall out of? Ohh, right, clouds. Snow is annoying. He's big and dumb and super-positive. His hat is terrible. If he'd take the hat off, I bet he'd been kind of a cool-looking dude. As is, you keep expecting him to say, when the camera slides in his direction: "Hey, have you guys seen my keg?" (Things to note: he is dumb enough to misplace a keg of beer. He is strong enough to carry a keg of beer like a Double Big Gulp and then forget that he's not carrying it. He drinks kegs of beer all the time. He drinks them completely by himself. He wouldn't mind just buying another keg to replace the one he misplaced.) In battle, he attacks with his bare fists. The game focuses quite heavily, for a while, on his romantic flashbacks with a girl who is literally half his size. It's a little queasy. Eventually, neat things happen to him, and his accidental-tourist personality becomes genuinely endearing. However, for those first eight hours, he's what the Japanese call a "tsukareru yatsu" — a person who makes you tired [just looking at him / hearing him talk]. He is this big dumb ray of light and he screams happy things in your face and you wish he would go away.

Thankfully, there's Lightning. She is the best parts of Cloud, the best parts of Squall, the best parts of Auron, the best parts of Terra, and none of the bad parts of any of those characters. She's tough and she's hot. She is liquid-hotrogen. She isn't annoying or brooding at all! And she just keeps punching Snow in the face every time he says something dumb. You go girl! She is sympathetic to Hope, which is interesting, because you'd think she'd consider him as unbearable a little twerp as we do. That she has a little sister — the aforementioned tiny girl who has a romantic relationship with Snow — who she cares for quite deeply is even more interesting. She's not the cold jerk she could have been. The fans wouldn't have cared if she was a jerk, too. They like jerks. What Lightning represents is actual effort. Also, what were those things that lightning comes out of again? Oh, right — clouds.

My absolute favorite character, however, is Sazh. Yes, I know. Everyone thought he was going to be a jerk. In the previews, he just yells and screams constantly, like he's incapable of speaking a single sentence in a normal voice. For the first hour of the game, we witness Lighting do Something Fantastic, like jump off the top of a building and hit the ground running, and Sazh just looks down and yells something like "Hey, wait for meeee!" and then starts climbing down excruciatingly slowly. This is the game establishing that Sazh is Not As Cool as Lightning. Well, you get to a certain point, and Sazh is revealed shockingly to just be a Normal Guy. He is our player surrogate. We identify with him more than everyone else, because he's not a psycho-freak super-soldier or helicopter-surfing revolutionary leader, and also because, like us, he has a baby bird living in his hair. And once his little side-plot comes into view, it's interesting and tender and genuinely human.

Vanille — the huge-headed, T-rex-armed little girl — is kind of a tough nut to crack. She's narrating the game, on the one hand, so maybe she's important? Maybe she's the Vaan character. Maybe she's bigger than that? Maybe she has a secret. Then there's Cid — he's pleasantly, toughly hammy. Then there's Oerba. I don't even know how to pronounce that name. God, she's so hot. I want her to beat me with her belt — or, better yet, my belt. My belt is really heavy. It's probably heavier than hers.

What do all of these people add up to? Well, I haven't seen the full curve of the plot, yet, though I've seen enough bits and pieces of a carefully structured under-story to know that, at the very least, all of them serve some greater purpose. I am confident in declaring that the plot officially impresses me — it's ballsy that Square-Enix decided to go with a byzantine, confusing atmosphere-heavy plot that produces so little fruit in its first two hours. Looking at the breadth of the game, at how straightforward it is in its pacing, you'd presume that they were trying to make some kind of Japanese equivalent of Call of Duty or Half-Life — we at least know for sure that Square-Enix has their eye on Modern Warfare (they published it in Japan, after all) — though it seems like, in the end, the linearity of the experience serves to efficiently deliver the tangled plot (and not the other way around), because delivering it at a more deliberate pace would probably be even more confusing. So, in short, rest assured that Final Fantasy XIII does not, at least in its first half, fall victim to Kingdom Hearts's syndrome of tossing you back and forth between disparate worlds and plot threads. Though we frequently switch focuses, episodes, and main characters in Final Fantasy XIII, it all seems to be distinctly adding up to One Big Thing.

The biggest, most negative thing I can say, however, is that it takes to long to drop the first plot bombshells. Every hour or so, something pops up that makes you think, "Oh, that's it? That's what this game is about?" And then you plod forward half-disappointed, half-hoping that there's something bigger. Then it gives you something incrementally bigger. Then you plod forward again.

It's like this:

Cut scene —> Would you like to save? —> Cut-scene —> Walk forward five minutes, fight some monsters —> Save point —> Cut scene —> Boss —> Cut-scene —> Would you like to save?

That goes on for maybe the first twelve hours. If you like Metal Gear Solid, you won't complain. If you like Final Fantasy VI or VII, it's going to feel like a toothache.

In screenwriting, there is a damn-near ironclad rule: the first Hugely Interesting Thing happens at the twenty-two-minute mark. Why don't we have anything like that in games? Let's try to make one, right here:

The Two-Hour Rule Of Role Playing Game Scenario-Planning:

The first Hugely Interesting Thing should happen in the first two hours.

With an FPS, make it "the first ten minutes."

"Fun," however, should come in the first five seconds.

Final Fantasy XIII's battle system is fantastic. It's the old-school ATB "Active Time Battle" system, with Final Fantasy X's strategy, Final Fantasy V's Job System, and Final Fantasy XII's Gambit System grafted on top of it. The best part is, Jobs and Gambits are fused into one thing, which can be activated / changed at any time during a battle with the press of one button. Neat!

It's called the "Optima Change" system, which sounds cool. I hear they're calling it the "Paradigm Shift" system in the English version, which sounds maybe even cooler. Either way, it's the same thing.

An "Optima" or "Paradigm" is an array of "roles." A "role" is kind of like a classic Final Fantasy "job," except instead of saying simply what a character can do, it says what they're likely to do. A "Healer" has healing magic, and is also likely to use it to heal. Healing will take priority over anything else. A "Jammer" has various status-destroy magic spells, and is likely to cast them. An "Enhancer" holds the keys to buffing spells, and will use them ad nauseum. An "Attacker" will attack constantly and ferociously. A "Blaster" will cast attack magic spells. These are just a few of the roles.

Between battles, you go into your little menu thing, and you configure your Optimas. You choose which character is which role for which Optima. A single Optima consists, then, merely of role assignments for each of three characters. You can store six Optimas at a time, so choose wisely.

There are no "Magic points" in this game. You can use magic all that you want. It's just as well — in Final Fantasy XII, your magic automatically recovered, after all. The thing is, battles very seldom stand on the edge of a knife, eager to fall one way or another. So having infinite magic points does not make the game easier. What you have is three ATB bars that all charge at once. You only control one character. You choose what three actions you want the character to take. Some actions cost more than one ATB bar, like Lightning's Area Flash slash move. Area Flash only hits an enemy once, though if several enemies are clustered together, it can hit all of them — the same for Snow's hand grenade attack. Protect spells take one ATB.

Let's say I have an Optima where two characters are attackers and one is a blaster. Then I have another Optima where two characters are Blasters and one is a Healer. Then I have one where one character is a Jammer, one an Enhancer, and one an Attacker. Let's say I use that third Optima as my default:

When a battle starts, my Enhancer is immediately using magic to buff up my dudes' defense. Next round, he casts shell on everyone, boosting magic defense. Your Jammer, meanwhile, is casting de-protect and de-shell — which, in addition to nullifying shell and protect spells, also increase default defense or magic defense. This is a first for Final Fantasy (though a standard for Dragon Quest or Persona, et al). Longer battles become mostly defense-focused: Lowering your enemies' defense while you boost your own, putting all your faith into single impactful attacks. Your attacker keeps wailing on the enemies while the Jammer and Enhancer do their work. Maybe your guys start taking some damage.

This is where you press the L1 button to bring up the Optima menu. Now you choose your Healer, Attacker, Blaster array. Now one of your dudes is healing while the other two attack physically or with magic. Maybe the enemies start to buff up, necessitating a switch back to the Enhancer and Jammer array. Or maybe you decide to force your way through by changing the paradigm to Blaster, Attacker, Blaster, and see if you can just put them enemies away ASAP.

When you win the battle — if you win the battle — you get a star ranking telling you how well you did, and some points to spend on (joylessly) purchasing new abilities or upgrades for each individual role.

The star ratings mean close to nothing for the first eight hours or so of game. All you're doing in the beginning is choosing "Go!", pressing the Yay Button, and then watching breathlessly as your characters score massive damage. The major battle system concepts trickle down the pipe, and after two hours, you have your first Optima change option. After four hours, the game has introduced the support classes; around eight hours, the game plops down a boss that requires you to actually think. Is this too slow? I, for one, think so. Again, I just have to mention the twenty-two-minute rule of screenplay writing: The art of crafting, choosing, and changing Optimas is so interesting in the context of a battle that it really should be something the game wears on its sleeve. It should be forcing you to dip your toe into its ocean not ten minutes after the very first fight. Maybe they could make it, like, Sazh has a healer role, or something. Nope: In the beginning, it's just all potions, all the time. You can use potions (or other items) whenever you want (no ATB charge needed). They take effect immediately, and they heal everyone.

The game's reluctance to roll out the battle system quickly might be an inferiority complex: the game is suspicious that you might not like it. Also, the first item you receive for use in the field is "Sneak Smoke," enabling you to avoid detection by enemies; this is more or less a sign that the developers know very well that RPG players sometimes don't like fighting battles at all.

The last word on the battles: Most of the time, they're really short. Like, ten seconds. Then there are bosses, which can be very long.

The biggest criticism of the game among those who have just started playing it is that you "only control one character." This is an unfortunate criticism, mostly because it's true. However, it's about as valid as the first major criticism of Final Fantasy XII: that there are too many enemies to fight, and choosing "fight" for all of them just takes too much time. This is because the game wanted you to use the Gambit system to program your allies' AI.

Years after Final Fantasy XII, the Japanese gamers still regard it unfairly as an atrocity, in that it made people motion-sick, that the characters were ineffectual, and that the battles were tiresome and confusing at worst and boring, tangentially interactive experiences at best.

Final Fantasy XIII features a much slower field-map camera, which moves at a much more human-head-like speed. The characters are all bottom-up-constructed cosplayers' dreams come true who are carefully and minutely constructed such that each character will be someone's favorite character. And the battles try admirably hard to be like classic Final Fantasy while also not completely ignoring the objective triumph of Final Fantasy XII's amazing, breezy, sticky, frictive conflicts. The Optima Change System makes you feel far more connected to and alive with the characters than the Gambit System did, probably because it requires you to press buttons every once in a while. The Gambit System, love it as I do, turns Final Fantasy XII into a kind of virtual pet: Wind it up and watch it go. Final Fantasy XIII gives you a button to press to change tactics, and then carefully constructs all manner of battles that exploit every nook and cranny of the mechanics. It's hard to explain exactly how a boss battle flows in Final Fantasy XIII. Suffice it to say that, after a point, the system clicks and you are In The Zone. You are Dodging Asteroids and Shooting Aliens at the same time. You are scoring four stars out of five at the end of a battle, sighing, and saying, "Yeah, I guess I deserved that." How do you know you deserved it? What has the game done to you? Who knows. It's got you, though.

I might have given up on Final Fantasy XIII, the way a friend of mine has given up on smoking. He's always saying, "I haven't smoked a cigarette in two weeks." It's like, he knows he's never going to give it up; he just happens to, sometimes, give it up subconsciously. What I'm saying is, I've had the game for one day shy of a week now, and I haven't completed it. I am halfway around the world from my home, and I have family members I haven't seen in over half a decade, though I also have this weird pseudo-illness with which to excuse myself from the world for a while, and I still can't bring myself to plow through the game. All this says is that the game isn't as immensely devourable for a thirty-year-old as Final Fantasy VI was for a fifteen-year-old. Maybe that means something, and maybe it doesn't. Who am I to decide?

This year, I got into a half-argument with a Japanese friend about the Hayao Miyazaki film "Ponyo." I said, I thought it was Miyazaki's best, most fully realized film. The friend said that I was wrong, that "Totoro" was easily the best Miyazaki film. I said I thought "Ponyo" was basically the same movie, only told in a more chaotically accessible form. It's more alive and motion-ful. The friend said, "You don't understand, because you didn't see 'Totoro' as a child." My reply to this was, "First of all, I did see 'Totoro' as a child. Second of all, you don't understand, because you didn't see 'Ponyo' as a child." The friend then accused me of using some evil logical fallacy, which nullified my entire argument. It was apparent that he learned that word while serving on his high school debate team, which in Japan, I think, means they stand on opposite ends of the room staring at the floor asking their rival in whispering tones to "please stop arguing please." I think I won the argument pretty well.

I also think I have matured less than one tenth of one iota since my days in high school. Well, maybe I've matured a tiny bit: these days, when I think of that week I spent locked in my bedroom (the very bedroom I'm using to write this article, in fact) plowing through Final Fantasy VI, all I can do is feel pangs of regret that I didn't force myself to do pushups during the non-interactive parts of every battle, after all the commands are plugged in and the battle turns are playing out. I could have made a game out of it — do a pushup, then grab the controller and input a command when the next character's ATB bar fills up. I'd be ripped as hell by now.

Maybe, though, that sitting and wallowing in the glow of the TV during those battles was half the fun of Final Fantasy VI. Maybe that's why I can't get so into Final Fantasy XIII — because the game just doesn't let you put the damn controller down, even for a microsecond. Then you've got the game world itself, a perfect straight track that offers you glimpses of the unspeakable expanse of the universe. It's like, you know why Americans like the Indy 500? You know why they like Nascar? Because they just want to see cars go fast. They don't like that shit they do in Europe, where the cars slow down to take corners. That's for the weak! If they could get their hands on enough land, they'd make a formula-1 track right here in Indianapolis, one that was 50 miles long and a perfect circle, just one never-ending curve so gentle that drivers could accelerate all the way through. Then they'd put maybe 500 cars on that track and the people would just sit there and go fucking insane watching these cars just endlessly stream by at dog-on-fire speeds, eventually screaming to let me off this crazy thing. That's what Final Fantasy XIII feels like, if you try to play it all day, and it kind of makes you nauseous. You don't feel like you own any of these characters or situations or what have you. The "Crystarium" (Sphere Board / License Board / Materia rolled into one) is so drab and linear: you just choose the next ability in line until your points are gone. A couple battles later, you open the menu again, spend all your points, close it, and go back to The Road. Your characters have two pieces of equipment: weapon and accessory. They have attack and magic attack in their status menu, and that's it.

As a thirty-year-old man-child with spectacular hair, I must say that Final Fantasy XIII does not impress me as much as Final Fantasy VI did precisely half my life ago, and whether that has anything to do with any universal truth or the fact that I've just played so many games since then is neither here nor there. Right now, today, it's not the greatest game I've ever played. It's nice, wonderfully crafted, and certainly a lot more fun than most of the games I've played this year. It is not, however, magical. Maybe that'll change in the last half of the game, though even if that is the case, boo to Square-Enix for not trying to push me into love with the experience a lot sooner.

In the end, I'm going to say something edgy, something off-the-cuff: I talk in this article about how excellent the battle system is in Final Fantasy XIII, though why does it have to be a "battle system"? Why can't it just be a game wherein amazing things happen? In Gamestop for the first time in five years yesterday, I caught a glimpse of an in-store display for The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks. One of the bullet points by the game description was: "Complete missions!" Seriously. Who goes into a videogame because they want to "Complete missions"? That's like an ice cream shop advertising to prospective customers by saying "Our ice cream cones will make the palms of your hands kind of cold!" Talk about the precise shape of the deliciousness, man! Anyway, we go into videogames because we want to "do cool stuff" or "see cool stuff", right? And while Final Fantasy XIII shows you plenty of cool stuff, it doesn't really let you do a lot of it. There's the should-be-infamous scene early on where two characters spy a parked sky-motorcycle in a cut-scene. Then the player is given control. You approach the motorcycles. A cut-scene starts. Your dudes get on and then fly away. They look like they're having a lot of fun! Too bad we can't have that fun!

Grand Theft Auto lets you have that fun. Jak 2 let you have that fun. Why does Final Fantasy XIII only let you direct the fun? In battle, it's like, you choose to change your Optima so that your dudes can shoot fireballs out of their fingertips. We don't feel what it's like to shoot fireballs with our fingertips: We just feel what it's like to tell someone to shoot fireballs out of their fingertips. When a player sees something happening in your videogame and says "Man, that would be kind of cool to do in a videogame", the ghost is basically given up.

What I'm saying is, I'm pretty sure "battle systems" are vestiges of a time gone by. I'm pretty sure they were only ever a placeholder for some Massive Fun To Come. Like, the old Dragon Quest games made you walk around an overworld. The town icons were as big as your dude. The forests were green panels. They were translucent if you walked through them. Then there was Dragon Quest VIII, on the PlayStation 2. The forests had real trees you could walk under. It still had a battle system. Dragon Quest IX was supposed to be an action game. A group of maybe two hundred vocal fans didn't like it. The people making the game backed down, made it a battle-system-game again. I'm pretty sure Square-Enix could have made an action game as exciting and accessible as Monster Hunterusing the Dragon Quest franchise.

They could do it with Final Fantasy, too. Final Fantasy XII was a remarkable step in that direction. Imagine, the depth of the Gambit System for two of the characters, and then intensely frictive action gameplay for the one character directly under your control. Then, maybe you press one button to shift the Paradigm (gambit configurations) of the other two characters. Wouldn't that be hot as hell? As it is, Final Fantasy XIII shows your dudes doing cool stuff — summoning twin ice princesses who then fuse into one giant motorcycle, then jumping onto that motorcycle and driving it over the enemies' frightened bodies — though there's such a weird disconnect between the stuff you feel in control of (walking down The Road) and the stuff that you only suggest (aforementioned vehicle-summoning). The "other stuff" always looks like "the fun stuff". There's so much grass, and it's so green, on the other side of the fence, and on our side of the fence, it's cracked concrete. Translation: In cut-scenes, it's all beautiful, expensive CG of gorgeous people doing impossible / awesome things, and in the actual game, it's accessing a spreadsheet, clicking on "go", and watching some guys jump toward a monster, numbers flying everywhere, and then jumping back.

Square-Enix might say that battle systems, that menus, are the most easily accessible means to deliver this kind of big-scale story to the public. I say, the emotional investment required to learn the ins and outs and nuances of the Optima Change System are no less than the emotional investment of every one of the millions of ten-year-olds who play Halo for the first time. Here's where we could play devil's advocate to ourselves, and start talking about the atrocities committed by Square's Western-style shooting experiment Dirge of Cerberus, though it'd be hard to do that without getting mean.

I suppose it'd be best to stop right there. No, let's do this, first:

Love:

The Music: Masashi Hamauzu's score is constantly effervescent and inventive. It's always doing something new. The battle themes are some of the best videogame music since Chrono Cross. People might not like XIII's music as much as the music in some of the other Final Fantasy games because it's clearly not bombastic or pop-song-like enough. Bombastic, pop-song-like music is great, though so is deep, complex, well-produced, musician-like stuff like this. Hamauzu is a talented musician, not just a "videogame music composer," and the quality of the tracks is staggering when you also consider their volume.

The Graphics: My god, I want to eat everyone's hair.

The Math: Some boss battles will make you feel like a genius.

The Structure of the Story: Every once in a while, the game's not about "I wonder what's going to happen?" — it's about "I wonder what already happened before the beginning of the plot to explain why I should care about that thing that just happened?" I am putting this under "love" (note present tense) because, if nothing else, it's a lot better than "I hate these people, I hope they all die, and I don't even care if they don't."

Hate:

Whiners: I want to punch that little kid in the face. I go into every cut-scene hoping someone decks him, lays him out, lambastes him.

Vanille's arms: Why the hell are they so short? They're not even long enough to untie her pigtails. I pray they don't "explain" the length of her arms in a poignant cut scene at some point.

Having a Fever: Why are the words "Optima Change" literally visible on the screen at all times during the battles? I know I can press the L1 button to open my Optima Change menu! Stop crowding my Cinematic Action Movie Like Videogame Battle Experience with your Stupid Buzzwords! . . . . . . and several (infinite) other hot-headed complaints accessible only to people who are playing a game with lots of small text and flipping, flying numerals through throbbing skull pain.

tim rogers is the editor-in-chief of Action Button Dot Net, and will be posting a review of Final Fantasy XIII there shortly. you can also see action button's YouTube channel right here. If you're in Toledo, Ohio on the night of December 29th, come see my band at Frankie's!

Kotaku has witnessed the human and Predator sides of the game. Now Aliens.

The Aliens campaign, like those of the human and Predator, can be activated separately by players, though the three narratives intersect to form the game's overall plot. The Aliens' story starts with the character's violent birth. Specimen 6 bursts out of a lab-patient's chest into a glorified test tube. Soon you've grown and soon enough you're out of your shackles, killing people.

All three campaigns are played from a first-person perspective. The Alien stands lower than the human, who stands lower than the Predator. When you make quick turns as an Alien, you see your tail swish by. When you trigger one of the game's gruesome killing animations, your famous mouth-within-a-mouth juts out and fills the screen as it chomps your victim.

Aliens run up walls, onto the ceiling and can leap to the floor. A targeting reticule always points in the direction of the floor so you don't get too dizzy. The Alien is fast and brutal with melee kills. I didn't see it use guns, and one would think it can't. But it can take orders from a momma Alien, who utters its commands via a floating-Alien-head icon in the corner of the screen. The Alien also can smell well, sniffing the outlines of other characters through walls and reading the color of their outlines to determine if that character is hostile and on the attack.

The Alien can do light and heavy attacks, can lock on and can perform stealth kills. I saw all of this and saw the Alien have to climb up into the vents above the lab where it was born. Momma was summoning but the vents were blocked. I had to leave the demo, but was told that the Alien would soon be joining other non-controllable members of its species for more violence.

My glimpse of the Alien section was brief, though two things did stand out. It looked nothing like the Predator mode I'd seen, which involved thermal-vision-assisted high-altitude stalking through jungle trees. The other detail: This game is indeed for gore lovers. The Sega rep showing me the game was quite enthusiastic about how the Alien can chomp at brains and how the Predator's wrist blades can go up a man's throat and be visible down his shouting mouth. Sounds a bit much, but as noted above, these aliens are not diplomats.

Aliens Vs. Predator is set for release on the PC, PS3 and Xbox 360 in February. Developed by Rebellion, published by Sega.

Actually, Naughty Bear isn't 100% murderous. He's more like 110% mischievous with a reckless disregard for teddy bear life tacked on. His story starts on an island filled with other teddy bears who don't feel like inviting Naughty Bear to a birthday party because, well, he's naughty. He decides to get even by, what else, murdering all the bears who snubbed him.

My brief hands-off look at Naughty Bear took place at the beginning of this entire storyline where Naughty Bear gets snubbed by the other bears and thus begins his vengeful naughty spree. This is an action/arcade game, so the camera remains fixed to Naughty Bear in the third person — giving you plenty of time to stare at his shabby, patchy appearance and feel sorry for him (until he kills someone, anyway). A British narrator speaks directly to Naught Bear, asking if he thinks the other bears will even let him go because he's so naughty. Sure enough, the other bears stop Naughty Bear before he can go to the party and ridicule him with bear laughs and miming (because the bears in this game don't talk), until Naughty Bear slinks home in shame.

Back at home, he decides to get even. There are apparently several ways to do this. The first is what I call a Grand Theft Auto approach where you can grab a bat, get in a vehicle or find some explosives and then go mess up another bear. The second is a more subtle tactic that apparently ears Naught Bear more points: the scare method. Naughty Bear can set traps for other bears using, say, candy or something and then sneak up behind them and frighten them.

The cool thing I noticed about that second tactic was something like a picture-in-picture spy cam. When Naughty Bear sets a trap and goes into hiding, you can monitor the space around the trap with said spy cam while still keeping the majority of the rest of the screen open to look for other bears to mess with.

Other methods might get more elaborate as the game goes on, I was told by publisher 505 Games. But for this first level, all I saw was Naughty Bear beating another bear to death with a bat and jumping out from behind some bushes to scare a second bear. Then two police bears in a boat showed up and Naughty Bear had to leg it or get bear arrested.

The objective of the game is to scare (or kill) as many other bears as possible to earn points which unlocks new weapons, outfits and opens up more of the bear's island for Naughty Bear to terrorize. I think the final challenge will be ruining the other bears' birthday party — maybe by planting explosives in the cake.

All in all, I can understand where Naughty Bear is coming from even if it makes me kind of uncomfortable to watch the stuffing fly in a murderous bear rage. It's pairing cuteness with over-the-top violence to provide an absurd kind of humor while at the same time trying challenge players to be creative with their misbehavior. I think the biggest challenge for the game will be nailing the happy medium of cuteness so that the violence comes off as funny instead of just plain violent. You'll notice, for example, that the teddy bears all kind of look like college fraternity brothers dressed in bear suits. That can work for the funny factor — just check out Easter Bunny Hates You for proof — but it can also make the bear beat-downs a little too real to laugh at.

Naughty Bear is being developed by Artificial Mind & Movement. Look for it sometime in 2010.

The game is Ubisoft's newly-announced Racquet Sports. It offers tennis, squash, table tennis, racquetball and badminton and supports up to four players. Control options initially seemed, during a demo of the game in a New York penthouse hotel suite last evening, conventional. Racquet Sports can be played, like Wii Sports Tennis, with just the Remote. Or, for more sensitive motion control, players can use a MotionPlus. Using that second option, I competed in a virtual squash match in an underwater glass box against a Ubisoft developer. She had no mercy.

But the surprise was that the Ubi rep then offered me the chance to play the game with no controller. Racquet Sports enables this via the publisher's proprietary Wii camera peripheral, which originally sold with the company's 2009 fitness game, Your Shape.

The camera-controller mode only works in single-player and reminded me of games I've played with the PlayStation 2's Sony EyeToy. As with games like EyeToy Play, I had to stand within the dimensions of an outline rendered on the TV so that the camera could detect where I stood in the room. From there it would be able to register my movements.

Once I was calibrated, a tennis match started. An image of me was gone from the screen, replaced by the Racquet Sports' straightforward tennis-match visuals. I'm left-handed, so I lifted and swatted with my left hand to serve, and then volleyed swinging forehands and backhands. Between serves, a replay showed how the previous point was scored, but I could skip that with a wave of my right hand.

The Ubisoft camera doesn't operate with the sophistication I experienced in demos of Microsoft's Project Natal. It's not detecting my joints and mapping my movements to that of a virtual stick figure. It's, in the words of the Ubisoft developer showing me the game, looking at "pixel clouds," determining if my movement is straight out to the side or at an angle and interpreting that, along with the speed of my movement, into different kinds of shots.

I had a good time playing without the controller, though I wasn't sure why anyone would forgo the option to use one other than to conserve battery power in their Remote. It worked well, evidence that there's more than one way to do motion controls on the Wii.

I asked if the developers had tried using the camera mode with real tennis rackets in their hands. Not yet, I was told. But with a table tennis paddle, they said, it works just fine.

A Sony representative was showing Polyphony Digital's upcoming PlayStation 3 racing game, and let me drive a couple of laps around a city track. What does me, a non Gran Turismo player do? Fall into last place and start bumping into walls.

My Audi TT took no damage even as I bashed it against the wall. The Sony rep explained to me that damage for that car wasn't in the demo. Damage was being shown on a Subaru WRC Impreza, the same virtual car McWhertor wrecked in Germany.

I smacked the Subaru into walls until its doors were flying open and its fenders were scratched. The Sony man took over and got the bumper to nearly fall off. He said he's gotten the hood knocked off too and that beneath these busted bits Polyphony has rendered the innards of the car. We'll be able to see behind the damage.

And it's not just cosmetic damage, I was told. The car's performance will be impaired if the vehicle is roughed up. Gears might not shift as well, for example.

The other stand-out feature I was told about was head-tracking. The game will support the PlayStation 3 camera, the PlayStation Eye. While one wasn't hooked up at today's event, it was explained that the device will track a player's head movements. The goal is for the depth-of-field focal point far down the track to shift, matching your head movement. What you look at will be appear more clearly, in theory. So as you look a little to the right, the right part of what you see beyond your car may come more sharply into focus. But the car itself won't turn with your head, of course.

The Sony rep explained that Polyphony's goal is for players to feel like they are experiencing what real racers see. He noted that the feature was still a work in progress and couldn't offer more details about how it works. From his gestures, I suspect the head-tracking will be responsive more to leans than to head turns, the latter of which obviously would make it hard to see the TV.

With neither the head-tracking incorporated into this demo nor the performance effects of the car damage evident to a series novice like myself, I can't judge either feature. But they sound like the attention to deal the series is respected for.

Gran Turismo is slated for a PS3 release some time next year.

The story starts off with Guybrush klepto-ing his way out of his own grave ("What's all this dirt doing here? Maybe I'll just hang on to some..."). How he got there is covered in the previous four episodes, which we won't spoil for you here. After passing by a Grog vending machine and some other promising-looking puzzle pieces, he encounters the Boatman — that infamous character out of legend who ferries the dead on to whatever awaits them.

In Guybrush's case, this is Crossroads — where Pirates go to die or be half-dead. With a Shred of Life in his pocket and a thin hope that he can get back to his body to be reunited with his wife Elaine, our hero goes on questing in Crossroads essentially the same way he did when he was alive.

Things don't get interesting 'til Guybrush actually discovers the way to return to his body. The demo master behind our tiny sample of Episode 5 didn't reveal how this comes about exactly (something to do with a locket) — but rather jumped ahead to a point in time when Guybrush's ghost was able to communicate to some buddies about why his corpse was being used as a dartboard. Strangely, the pirates were glad to see Guybrush in his corporeal form, but when he somehow got back into his own body, they freaked out and attacked him.

Clearly, this whole life after death thing is more complicated than zombie movies have led us to believe. If Guybrush being back in his body doesn't make his body undead, does that make him a standard zombie or some other iteration of undead? And where does this put his relationship with Elaine because pirates probably have laws about necrophilia.

Our demo ended with one final attempt to repossess Guybrush's body — which landed us in jail this time — where Guybrush got kicked out of his corpse after spending too long in the land of the living. Because the game was in its early days of development, there were no fight scenes to see. But we were told to expect a "good, classic boss fight" at the end of Episode 5.

As for the future of series, Telltale isn't telling. They do intend on releasing the full box copy for PC relatively soon after Episode 5 goes live and they said we can expect that we'll "be hearing from" Telltale "very soon" about their next big project. Also, they did say they were "committed to getting as many things on as many platforms as possible" in response to a question about an Xbox Live release for Tales of Monkey episodes. But again, nothing definite.

And for all you Wii fans out there still waiting for 1) a box copy of Strong Bad's Cool Game for Attractive People and 2) a release date on the WiiWare version of Episode 5, Telltale says 1) blame Nintendocomplicated circumstances and 2) it'll be out whenever Nintendo approves it.

Tales of Monkey Island Episode 5: Rise of the Pirate God is out for PC December 8.

ETA: Telltale's Will Armstrong wants to clarify that the situation is not about Nintendo being slow, but rather that the timing of completing the game and getting it to Nintendo for their submission process is complicated. Hence why they can't guarantee same-day releases between PC and WiiWare episodes.

That may not have been what developer NaturalMotion went through while pitching Backbreaker to publisher 505 Games — the name doesn't even suggest football — but even when the dreaded Madden comparison was made, it was successfully dodged with "This is an alternative to Madden." The idea is that the developer approached football with a completely clean slate and no aspirations of doing what Madden does only somehow better.

Instead, NaturalMotion is using the Euphoria engine (of Grand Theft Auto IV fame) to craft a more game-y feel for the classic American sport. All the animations are real time as opposed to canned and the perspective from which the developer showed me the game was something like a third person action/adventure camera angle. Like GTA IV, only with football.

Backbreaker was in pre-alpha, so I wasn't able to see much. I watched an 11x11 Exhibition match in a Day Mode stadium (the game will have both night and raining modes for stadiums as well). A bug prevented us from switching views or switching between players, so I watched two or three plays from the perspective of a quarterback and a linebacker. Immediately, it felt like a more intimate experience from what I remember of Madden's overhead God view — although I confess I lack Owen Good's extensive knowledge of the series, so I'm not sure if there's a comparable camera angle in Madden NFL 10. Either way, I can definitely say that the football players move differently than I expect from my sports games. It's almost like they're less-realistic to look at, but when they tackle somebody, the response of the character model is more realistic.

Stuck in this perspective, I worried that it would be hard to see where the ball was — that is the challenge of sports in real life that they don't come with glowing icons. To tackle this problem (pun intended), the game makes the player who has the ball glow red. I like this because it doesn't make it too easy to find the ball, but it does cut back on the chances of me tackling the wrong guy.

When Backbreaker is finished, NaturalMotion plans to have all kinds of views in place during games, including a jumbo-tron view mode to review tackles or spectacular plays. At launch, they also plan to have 32 teams (and the ability to make your own) with 16 stadiums in day, night and raining modes. (Note that these teams and stadiums are only modeled after real life teams and stadiums — Madden sort of has the market cornered on that kind of realism.) Backbreaker will also have mini-games like something called Tackle Alley that I didn't get to see, and two difficulties for both the casual and hardcore players and online functionality for all. A press release sent out last night also says that the game will have two variants for on the field play: evasive mode and aggressive mode. I assume it has to do with offense and defense, but all the release says is "in evasive mode, players are more agile ... though they are more likely to fumble when tackled" and "in aggressive mode, players can stiff arm and fight through linemen, run faster and fend off big hits and tackles."

Hm. Sounds like it might be more fun to be aggressive. B-E Aggressive (sorry, had to do it!).

Backbreaker is looking at an April 2010 release for Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3.

I was introduced to Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles: The Crystal Bearers last week, discovering quickly that this was not the kind of Crystal Chronicles game I had expected. It is, you see, a single-player game, the first in a splinter line of Final Fantasy games made for Wii platforms and previously designed for four players.

The Crystal Bearers is different, set 1000 years after Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles and putting the player in control of a single hero, a mercenary named Layle. The series' dwarf race, the Lilty Tribe, have risen to power. The mechanical race, the Yuke, have seemingly been wiped out.

I was told by a Square-Enix representative that this game would feel like a "true Final Fantasy" for the Wii. It will have a deep storyline. But it also has real-time combat and was described to me as 75% mini-games.

What I saw and played clarified things. I was shown Layle running through a farm, getting pulled into a challenge to pluck all of the vegetables from a field before a clock ran out. A scarecrow was the opponent, shooting at Layle to try to mess him up. So don't think of "mini-games" in terms of a Mario Party, I realized. Think of them is mid-game challenges.

Next, I was shown some combat. Layle ventured to a dusty desert area and enemies attacked. The game is played with a Wii Remote and Nunchuk. The control stick moves the character. The Remote's pointer is used for telekinesis, to pick up objects and enemies, then toss them. The d-pad on the Remote is used to swivel the camera, the only element of the controls I found hard to handle in the few minutes I played the game.

I was told that conversations with non-player-characters will be less than typical for an FF game. Instead, the interactions the player tries to get are "reactions." You get these from enemies by encountering them. For example, out in that desert area, Layle fought some dog enemies. Once he had a Reaction associated with them, he could get them to stop fighting, run over and, uh, urinate on him. Other Reactions are equally comical, sending enemies into a daze because they've had their heads knocked off, for example. It's all cartoony, done for laughs.

Also, somehow, some way, you can take a cow, hold it over Layle's head, and shoot enemies with its udders.

I'm a sucker for the absurd in my games, so, as little as I saw of the Crystal Bearers, I was encouraged. It's hard to see it as being a "true" Final Fantasy game, but only a longer play session that presents more of the story can verify that claim.

I was told that Crystal Bearers does support a co-op mode that allows a second player to use the Remote as an assist, similar to Co-Star mode in Super Mario Galaxy.

The game plays swiftly, action-first. It is colorful and has fun visuals, as you can see in these shots. Crystal Bearers may be off some people's radar, but it will indeed be out this year in North America, the day after Christmas, for the Wii.

A total of five new titles appeared in the Zune Marketplace recently, each taking advantage of the HD version of Microsoft's handheld's increased 3D capability, touch screen controls, and accelerometer functions. Let's take them for a spin, shall we?

Audiosurf Tilt
The Zune HD version of the exceptional Steam PC game, Audiosurf transforms the music on your Zune into a rollercoaster obstacle course, challenging you to gather points on the track by tilting your Zune back and forth, avoiding obstacles. It's a rather simplified version of the original game, with no special modes. Just collect dots, and spend them on new track decorations. It does, however, come with a song visualizer that should be a bit hit with folks who hook their HD to the television set.

Checkers
Checkers is Chess for those who'd rather not think too much, and the game fares as well as you'd expect it to on the Zune HD. Multiple difficulty settings for playing against the AI should provide a challenge for anyone with a Zune HD who wants to play a board game. Touch screen controls handle nicely. I can't really complain.

Lucky Lanes Bowling
A simple little bowling game with a lot of personality. Crazy characters bowl down even crazier lanes, tracing the path of the ball with your finger and then letting fly. You can unlock new characters and lanes as you play, or challenge friends in Wi-Fi mode. It's small, cute, and free. Works for me.

Project Gotham Racing: Ferrari Edition
It's no PGR4, but it gets the job done. The Zune HD version of Project Gotham Racing showcases the Ferrari, with 12 different models to choose from and 33 events to play through in career mode. The game runs quickly and smoothly, with the tilt function of the Zune HD used to steer and on-screen buttons for breaking and accelerating. Like PRG, the player earns Kudos for how well they drive, using them to unlock new cars along the way. Certainly a capable little racer, and the price (free) is hard to beat. If you've friends who own Zune HDs, you can even play multiplayer. Check out a bad video of it in action below.

Vans SK8: Pool Service
Tilt to move and touch to trick, Vans SK8: Pool Service is pretty much the same thing as the iPhone version. If skating around a pool is your idea of a good time, then this is for you. Otherwise, it's a nice example of how the Zune HD can do just about anything the iPhone can do, only slightly smaller.

All in all this is a fine crop of titles that show, if anything, that the Zune HD has the ability to take on the iPhone from a gaming standpoint. What it doesn't have is the popularity. Will it ever achieve the level of love the iPhone has received? Doubtful, but Microsoft is putting on a good show.

But is the game's ultimate collector's edition worth the extra $90? And what about those goggles, why do they look so familiar?

Here's what you get for the extra cash:
A fancy metal case to hold your copy of the game.
A game case-sized 34-page art book.
A code to download the original Call of Duty to your console.
A numbered plastic head-shaped stand for holding your night vision goggles.
A wearable pair of night vision goggles made by toy maker Jakks Pacific with Modern Warfare 2 branding.

That's right, those night vision goggles are made by Jakks Pacific, the same company that produces the EyeClops Night Vision goggles sold at toy stores.

Originally released for $90, you can now pick up a set of the EyeClops Night Vision Infrared Stealth Goggles for $50 at Toys R Us.

The two sets of night vision goggles seem to be of the same quality, with both supporting both short range and long range vision modes. Both sets say you can view objects in the dark up to 50 feet away. The biggest difference is in how the two look.

The Eyeclops have a rounder, more bug-like appearance, making it look more like something from a sci-fi show than for military use.

The Modern Warfare 2 goggles have been redesigned to look like something closer to the real thing. They also have a switch that lets you flip between black and white and green views.

Despite the design change, the Eyeclops and Modern Warfare 2 night goggles feel pretty much the same when you're wearing them. They both look about the same as well, though the redesign does slightly mess with your depth of view.

While the goggles work as advertised, I don't see anyone using these to stalk people or animals or sneak around in the dark. They're a toy. A fun toy, but still a toy.

The main draw for getting these should be the way they look on your desk. Mounted on the head, the goggles look pretty neat, though not real.

Perhaps it would have been better for Activision to go with non-functioning goggles that look authentic, rather than one that function on a toy level, but don't really look that real.

A few weeks ago in New York I had the opportunity to try a map of Bad Company 2, the PC and console military first-person shooter from EA's DICE studio. The sandy Chilean map, called Arica Harbour, is the one that will be available in the game's PlayStation 3-exclusive multiplayer beta later this month.

A preview event gives a casual first-person shooter player like myself little opportunity to assess the quality of the map. I fought in the almost desert-like environment in buildings, on a bridge, all under a seemingly hot sun. I drove tanks, stormed across the bridge and knocked down walls. But I can't say whether it's balanced or whether it will prove as addictive to play as the best arenas in the genre.

I can say, however, that the feature list for this game and the sensory impression it leaves make clear what this game's potential is. EA's Medal of Honor series might be missing in action, but with Bad Company they've got a game that can gun for Activision's Call of Duty.

Screenshots and even the animated stills from yesterday's beta announcement already show how good the game looks. Bad Company 2's engine, an enhanced version of its predecessort's, supports the chipping and collapsing destructibility of any building in the game. Rockets punch through walls, as they did in the first Bad Company. But now tanks can crumple support beams to level even the interior frame. And, more subtly, an engineer with a drill can poke a hole in a wall and then shoot through it.

Multiplayer combat in the game is class-based. Each class, be it soldier, medic, engineer or recon can be outfitted with several items and attributes. Before entering combat you might switch your soldier's rifle but also alter his radar to add motion detection. Perks are unlockable, secured as the player earns experience points in each battle and levels up. Upgrades are scheduled and unlocked per class. As we reported last month, the limited edition of the game will provide gamers with six upgrades, including some that enhance the arms and armor of vehicles, immediately.

Players can also earn pins during battle, which serve as more granular Achievements or Trophies, rewarding, say, good shotgun performance. You gain these for bragging rights.

The essence of Battlefield is the openness of its combat zone. Players can fight on foot, in helicopters or on tanks. They can command any vehicle or post in the battlefield, opening the scene to a variety of tactical encounters. The map I played was set for a Rush challenge, which involved one team trying to secure several locations by reaching them and holding off any attackers. I had my moments, gunning some of the rival team down on the sidelines. But I'm the kind of guy who rolls in on a tank and then gets blasted by the RPG trooper hiding around the corner who somehow knew I'd be there.

Bad Company's battlefield is an impressive site and one theoretically open to a wide variety of multiplayer strategy. The brand may not have the momentum of a Call of Duty yet, but the intent to compete is there. call of Duty is still the king. This one's the hungry hopeful.

Bad Company 2 will be released in early March 2010.

Just three months before the January 2010 release of BioWare's second Mass Effect, there is an intriguing bit of, well, intrigue about what's going to be happening in BioWare's science fiction sequel to its hit Xbox 360 and PC role playing game Mass Effect. The more I've seen of Mass Effect 2 over three showings in June, September and then last month, the more mysterious its adventure seems.

The more I play it and talk to those involved in making it — including during a recent Xbox 360 demo of the game in New York of a new mission on the planet Omega — the more it appears that the flaws of the game's acclaimed predecessor have been addressed as the game assumes its identity as a shooter-role-playing-game hybrid.

Scrubbed, at least in the demo missions, are graphical imperfections: Slowed framerate, texture pop-in and bland backgrounds. All remedied, it seems.

The mission I saw brought Commander Shepard to the planet Omega and a nightclub called Afterlife where flames flashed in the background of the club and graphical textures didn't pop in a few seconds too late. Dancers and bartenders prowled a scene that bustled with more commotion than anything I'd seen in the first Mass Effect.

Graphical upgrades were desired and expected. Did you foresee that cut-scenes could benefit from some user involvement? After meeting some seedy folks at the bar, Shepard ran into an old friend from Mass Effect 1 — I'll only spoil his identity in the last sentence of this article. A cutscene started, but not the idle type of an older game. During a climactic moment, the player's of the trigger let off a rifle round, leaving fewer enemies to fight in the subsequent post-cutscene battle. This is similar to a moment during a cutscene in a level shown at E3 that let Shepard shove a man out a window, supposedly when prompted by a button cue.

Better graphics, interactive cut-scenes… how about an ammo upgrade?

This is the change I'm less sure all Mass Effect fans will like. As the Penny Arcade Expo demo of Mass Effect 2 led me and our readers to believe, the new game will arm the player with ammunition-based weapons that need to be manually reloaded.

Gone is the first game's system of infinite-ammo weapons that overheat if used to much too quickly. Reader feedback to that possibility was mixed during PAX. The EA representative who showed me the Omega mission couldn't tell me what the narrative justification was for abandoning the series' no-reload-needed ballistics technology. He could tell me, however, was that the game's developers felt that the old system for regulating player's use of guns — an overheating mechanic that enforced slower shooting and mandatory cooldown — disrupted the flow of a good firefight. Players would run for cover and wait until their weapon was ready to fire again. Not anymore. Hopefully.

After some tense conversation in the bar, the meeting with the old Mass Effect character and a bad sip of a dangerous drink, Shepard got into a firefight. He had a Krogan names Grunt and the human character Jacob from the recent Mass Effect iPod Touch game, Mass Effect Galaxy, at his side. I played this part, trying the refined combat system.

BioWare is clearly trying to improve and deepen the Mass Effect shooting experience. Gunplay is still third-person and real-time. The action can still be paused as the player activates a wheel of optional powers and weapons, which can be wielded by Shepard and whichever two partner characters are with him. Added to that is the ability to arm special ammunition types the freeze enemies or blow them up.

The demo level being shown ended with a mech battle, but I didn't get that far. I was off to play other games.

As combat heavy as the back part of the demo was, though, people curious about Mass Effect 2 shouldn't worry that story is being neglected. It is more obscured in these demonstrations of the game, partially, I'd wager, because there are more surprises there worth holding back. Even the nature of Shepard himself (or herself, if you've played as a female) is in question. As close to release as this game is, a mystery remains as to even the nature of its lead character's existence. Is he alive, dead, reborn? Why, in this demo, does another character not believe Shepard is Shepard and then snidely say, "That could be anyone wearing your face"?

This week's release of Dragon Age was BioWare's testament to not abandoning its classic role-playing game roots. Mass Effect 2 is the branch extending further away. These demos reveal the growth of a gameplay style that feels ever closer to a shooter, shaped, at least, by the player's strategic decision-making and ability-management. There's little hiding the active evolution of this gameplay style.

The gameplay may be more clear — and the graphics too — but it still also feels like Mass Effect 2 is hiding something: What are the dark secrets of its narrative? Why might someone else be wearing his face? And, hey, if they're going to explain that, why won't his weapons overheat?

Finally, as promised, here is your SPOILER ABOUT THE RETURNING CHARACTER…

It's Garrus who is back.

I'm sure comic-book-author-turned-game-designer Joe Madureira is pretty sick of hearing that for the last eight years or so. But here's hoping his game will make you forget all about war-torn worlds, burly swordsmen and huge gauntlets.

Oh, wait...

Darksiders, for those of you who don't know, is about one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, War. Turns out, there was a false Apocalypse and somebody set War up to take the blame. War's bosses glue a creature called The Watcher (voiced by Mark Hamil) to his fist and kick him back down to Earth sans most of his powers to figure out what went wrong.

Gameplay follows War through a series of environments on the ruined Earth. The map itself is huge once you open it all up, necessitating both a warp function you unlock later in the game and a badass horse called Ruin that serves as your ride. You also have to do a lot of backtracking to areas as you learn new abilities that open up places you either couldn't reach or see initially. Not only are you getting mystical powers like the ability to see into the Realm of Shadow with a button press, but also weapons and items that might remind you of a certain green-clad Nintendo icon.

It was about halfway through my tour of Darksiders with Hayden Dalton that the Zelda connection clicked. We'd just entered a room with several giant spiders and a puzzle element to it that was more complex than the usual go-here-kill-this kind I'm used to in action/adventure games. There was a grappling hook involved and something that looked like a spikier version of Link's boomerang.

"The puzzles are akin to Zelda," he explained after successfully dodging a huge spider dropping from the ceiling a la the Great Deku Tree dungeon in Ocarina of Time (only yuckier because Darksiders is big on blood and pus).

Dalton went on to say that Darksiders is about 40% puzzles to 60% combat/level exploration — and even the combat itself is something of a puzzle. In addition to planning for what weapon upgrades to buy (because you can't afford everything in the game on the currency you earn in one playthrough), you've also got kill types to consider and a Wrath gauge to fill. Killing enemies in the old fashioned way nets you souls — which are the game's form of currency. However, there are three different types of soul and only one of them can be used to buy weapon upgrades, while another fulls your Wrath gauge and the third restores your health.

The best way to go for soul-gathering is probably the special kill button. This happens when you beat an enemy within an inch of its life and then the B button icon pops up, prompting you to pull off a fancy special kill. You can ignore this button and just keep thrashing said enemy how you were thrashing it — but going for the special kill nets you more than one kind of soul currency. Also, that button prompt might give you the chance to ride on an enemy's shoulders to trample other enemies for more souls. And once your Wrath gauge goes up all the way, you can activate your Chaos Form overdrive which makes War more super-awesome-kill-guy than he usually is for a short amount of time.

Having cleared the gross spider mini-boss, Dalton continued on our tour of Darksiders. We encountered a sexy angel (voiced by Moon Bloodgood) who was bitter about being left behind on the post-apocalypse planet to clean up after War's mess; a flying griffin creature that we totally stole from said angel's buddy; and the ominous Black Tower that looms in the background of most levels 'til War finally finds a way to reach it.

The Black Tower level Dalton demoed for me looked the most like a Zelda dungeon of anything else I'd seen that day — but it also reminded me of another game. Apparently, it takes something like two hours to complete and you get a nifty portal-making gun that turns the whole thing into a giant puzzle, like, well — Portal. The cool thing about Darksiders' portal gun, though, is that you can shoot portals through portals to solve puzzles and you can change the velocity at which things pop out of the second portal hole once they go through the first. This means you can make crazy super-jumps to get enemies' heads during fights from across the room where said enemies can't even reach you.

All in all, I walked away from Darksiders with a pretty good feeling that I'd seen a tasteful pastiche of action/adventure games with a solid coat of Joe Mad's storytelling — instead of a hollow rip-off of other action/adventure games that hides behind a comic book author's big name. Also, Mark Hamil was there and that makes everything better.

A couple of fast facts for the road:
1) There won't be a demo.
2) The basic game is 15-20 hours, but completionists will take something like 30 hours and still not be able to afford every single weapon upgrade in the game.
3) There are no quick time events.
4) War doesn't level up, but his weapons, abilities and equipment do if you're spending souls on them. So if ever the game seems too hard, grind a bit and buy some upgrades.

Darksiders ships January 5th. If it sells well enough to warrant a sequel, let's all start begging Joe Mad to include random pages of Battle Chasers #10 on the loading screens in Darksiders 2. That would awesome.

Granted, Russia would probably be a whole lot less interesting to gamers if it were portrayed as an idyllic fantasy land with happy pink bunnies and stuff. So it's a good thing that Metro 2033 sticks to the post-apocalyptic wasteland guns and kicks them up a notch.

Let's back up a bit and convince you that this isn't some fancy rip-off of Fallout 3. Metro 2033 is based on a book, first of all, written by Russian blogger-turned-novelist Dmitry Glukhovsky. In Glukhovsky's bleak vision of the future, the known world has been visited by a nuclear holocaust that killed and irradiated everything on the surface of the planet. The only known survivors are those that happened to be in underground places when the whole thing went down (hence the name "Metro"). In Glukhovsky's novel (which was originally published for free on the Internet), the story follows a boy named Artyom whose only vision of the world the way it used to be come from postcards he collects throughout the dystopian network of Metro societies.

The biggest difference that I can stress between Fallout 3 and Metro 2033 is the fact that Metro 2033 picks up only 20 years after the nuclear Holocaust. People haven't quite adjusted to the changes in the environment and weird, upsetting things are still happening on a daily basis in the Metro colonies. Strange "anomalies" occur deep underground that cause hallucinations and some ominous force known as the Dark Ones keep making off with or mentally corrupting what's left of humanity.

The story of the video game picks up at the point in the novel where Artyom leaves the safety of his Metro station, Exhibition, to go on a mission to Polis in order to stop the Dark Ones. Our first look at the game spans both a flashback to the early days of safety in Exhibition and a midpoint level where Artyom's almost reached his goal while traveling across the ruined surface of Russia.

The first thing you notice about Metro 2033 is the minimal interface. To keep track of health, weapon ammo and whether or not the air in your immediate area is safe to breathe, you've got to pay total attention to Artyom's first person view. You can see individual rounds of ammo in your cobbled-together gun and know that he's in danger of dying if his vision begins to go red or he starts coughing and choking.

Slapping on the gas mask in contaminated areas affords you a little more in the way of a HUD (though you also have to put up with condensation on this inside of your mask). For one thing, you know your mask isn't doing its job if cracks begin to appear in the faceplate or the glass shatters altogether. For another, you get a nifty watch that keeps track of how much air is left in the mask. But other than that, there's very little in the way of "game-y" stuff we're used to from other shooters – even your map is a physical thing that Artyom pulls out to look at in a first person view.

The minimalist HUD drives home how tough life in post-apocalyptic Russia is. Everything around you is broken or rotting, so scavenging for replacement supplies like spare gas masks is particularly stressful but completely necessary since there's not much that humanity can make down in the Metro to survive on. For example, weapons made down in the Metro system are crappy and break easily, while the old school weapons from the surface world are so rare and awesome that their ammo serves as currency. So this puts the player in a constant tradeoff between having the best ammo in the game that will actually kill stuff in a few hits, or having enough "money" to upgrade the crappy guns you can buy underground.

The second major thing you notice about Metro 2033 (and the second major thing I can stress as completely different from Fallout 3) is how expressive all the non-playable characters' faces are. In the early Exhibition level, Artyom encounters a whole host of dirty, disheartened Russians living underground in their little city from mothers with young children to feed to injured, bitter men who like to gamble. Faces are completely animated with no paralyzed chins or cheekbones or dead, vacant eyes that move right when you talk to them and bodies move in the ways you expect them to as NPCs open doors, talk to one another or climb aboard underground handcarts.

The only thing that you might not notice right away about Metro 2033 is the combat. This is either because you're too used to first person shooters or because you're not playing the PC version with its spiffy (and optional) NVIDIA 3D glasses. Indeed, when we first saw a shootout on the Xbox 360 version with some weird looking werewolf/rat things, we were sort of indifferent. But later, in an enclosed tunnel with 3D glasses on, those werewolf/rat things suddenly looked a whole lot more upsetting as they swarmed our handcart and made off with the limp bodies of other passengers.

Combat seemed even more visceral in 3D after entering a stealth section where we had to creep along with night vision goggles past enemy NPCs. An NPC would suddenly round a corner where we happened to be crouching and his 3D rifle butt suddenly seemed way too close to our actual face – never mind poor Artyom's. This compounded the stress level we were already feeling from having a cracked gas mask and knowing we had to go down into a contaminated tunnel to get past the rest of the NPCs.

However, it might relieve some of you to know that you don't have to stealth your way through Metro 2033. Apparently, there's enough ammo and combat leeway in the game to support Artyom going through an area with guns blazing. That's not the route our demo master went with, hence our sudden spike in stress when that NPC turned up too close for comfort. But it's nice to know there's a choice, there, since the linear game gives you very few others.

Metro 2033 is being developed by 4A Games which has among its number some developers from the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. games (which are also set in post-apocalyptic Russia) and will be out for the PC and Xbox 360 in 2010. A PlayStation 3 version isn't planned largely because the developer doesn't have much experience programming for it – so that could change with time if Metro 2033 the game is as much a cult hit as the novel turned out to be. Expect about 10 hours of solid gameplay and maybe look into getting yourself a PC rig that can support PhysX and NVIDIA DirectX 10 (maybe even DirectX 11, if NVIDIA feels like letting the developer go for it).

P.S. Yes, they're working on an English translation of Metro 2033 the novel – it might even beat the game to US stores next year.

That stands for "Fuck This Shit!"

One-hit kills (except for grenade splash damage). No continues.

The middle level of difficulty is called "Dame This Is Hard." The easy level is called "Wussy."

The early 2010 downloadable game Matt Hazard: Blood Bath And Beyond has that sense of humor. I played it yesterday and can confirm that it's a game that was made to reproduce the frustrations (and joys) of old-school games while laughing at them.

Blood Bath and Beyond is an ode to Contra, an eight level downloadable title for Xbox Live Arcade and the PlayStation Network developed by the same Vicious Cycle team that produced Eat Lead, the 2009 third-person comedy shooter that parodied a generation of video games. Eat Lead was in 3D. The new game, a throwback, is a side-scrolling shooter.

Both games put players in control of Matt Hazard, a self-aware video game character who has seen his star fade as he was (fictionally) made to star in increasingly lame games. He was a badass action star reduced to kart racing, of all things.

In Blood Bath and Beyond, Hazard is sent back into games he (again, fictionally) starred in in the early 90s as he hunts down Neutronov, the villain who has stolen Matt's 8-bit self. A second player can join as Dexter Dare, Matt's 90s sidekick.

Contra fans would recognize the gameplay. The left stick moves the character across a scrolling battlefield full of angry enemies. One button makes the player's character jump. One button fires his gun. Holding a shoulder button locks Matt or Dexter in place so they can easily fire from all angles. A pull of one of the triggers allows Matt or Dexter to shoot into the background. Weapon upgrades fall from the sky, providing temporary access to machine guns, rocket launchers, flame-throwers and guns that shoot a tall spray of bullets.

The levels are ripped from a fictional version of Hazards' 90s games, though you might need to be told that. While they play like a 90s Contra, they have the more polished look of a modern game and sometimes riff on products from a few decades. For example, 2007's BioShock gets a send-up in this level called Hate Boat:

There's also a level that has players fighting Mounties and Moose Tanks. Anyone know what that's a reference to?

I watched a Vicious Cycle developer play through a pirate level based on a fake game called Chest of the Pirate Queen. Pirate skeletons ran in from the sides of the screen. Some parts of the level, on a boat, swayed with the motion of the sea. Then I tried a more cutesy level with demented Pokemon-style trainers spawning colorful monsters I needed to eliminate. Another reporter and I shot our way up several floors of a big house that was full of fighters, snakes and these Pokemon-like creatures. The level felt like it was ripped, amusingly, from what I believe was the 80s Kung-Fu game I long ago played on my friend's Nintendo Entertainment System. Surprisingly, though, it ended with a boss battle against a large mechanical rhino who had a long health bar. The fight against him was as pattern-based and tough as a lot of old-school gaming fights, the kind of thing that will make one gamer laugh, one gamer relish the throwback challenge and another run away.

Publisher D3 of America has no price to announce yet for the new Matt Hazard, but the creators promise about two to three hours of first-time play through on lesser difficulty levels, with support for local co-op, online leaderboards, and, of course, that hard difficulty mode.

Want to laugh at how people used to play games? Then this one's for you.

If you want to see it for yourself, sit tight – it runs with the premier of 2012 on November 13. Also I'm sure it'll hit the interwebs well before then. If you want to know how I felt about what I saw, read on. But know that I still haven't forgiven Ben Kingsley for BloodRayne.

Now I realize that once you've played Gandhi on the silver screen (and won an Oscar for it), everything else must pale in comparison. But seriously, Sir Kingsley, would it have killed you to show up for fencing lessons in preparation for filming BloodRayne? Just because the director sucks doesn't mean you have to.

As it turns out, Sir Kingsley only has two lines in the trailer (which is still twice as much as what comic relief character Alfred Molina gets) – so I can't judge his performance based entirely on that. The majority of the trailer is Jake Gyllenhaal leaping off of things while Gemma Arterton narrates in a quasi-mystical voice about the Dagger of Time and its powers.

Like all action trailers, there's a lot of quick cutting between unrelated sequences. Someone opens a door, the Prince looks around like he's confused and the Princess – called Tamina, not Farah – walks around looking pretty and exchanges PG-rated flirts with the Prince. Some dudes in black robes show up, looking like they just walked off the set of The Scorpion King and there's a lot of sand and gold stuff.

An interesting scene I noticed being repeated was a glowing fiery vortex within the Dagger of Time. You can see it in the trailer when the Prince activates it during a fight to rewind time. You see it again at the end of the trailer only somehow the Prince and some other person appear to be inside the Dagger, swirling around the vortex. Seems like a climactic boss fight to me. Also a temple-looking place collapses – it's all very Indiana Jones.

Speaking of which, someone pointed out to me the irony in having Alfred Molina play a comic relief character in an Indiana Jones-esque film. I'd completely forgotten that he's the guy in Raiders of the Lost Ark with the famous line "Throw me idol, I'll throw you the whip." How about that.

After the screening of the trailer, we were given a little bit of Q&A time with Jordan Mechner – but you'll have to sit tight for that as well.

Be honest – how many of you are going to go see the film 2012 just so you can watch the Prince of Persia trailer on the big screen? I totally did that with Scooby-Doo for a Harry Potter trailer and again with some other terrible film for a Two Towers trailer.

Image Cred
Image Cred

I had a chance recently to check out an early build of the game and came away impressed with its tight controls and impressive graphics.

The build I played agave me about three and a half minutes of time to shoot down enemy planes in a dogfight scenario. I'm told the full game takes place during the same timeline as the Playstation Portable's Ace Combat X, with the player taking on the role of a Falco Squadron pilot for the Federal Republic of Aurelia.

The game plays and even looks quite a bit like iPhone arcade air combat favorite, F.A.S.T., but it sounds like this game will have much more in the way of story and single-player campaign.

My time with the game did assure me that Ace Combat Xi will have tight tilt and touch controls that result in solid airplane movement. Players control the plane's movement with tilt controls, which felt very responsive in my hands. There are two settings for the controls, allowing you to add the need to worry about pitch and yaw, or just think about turning and up and down.

You can also toggle between a chase camera and a HUD view during gameplay. On screen buttons let you launch missiles, fire a gun, switch targets and hit your throttle or brake.

The throttle button boosts speed temporarily, but instead of dropping immediately, your plane drops in speed slowly, meaning that you wont have to play with your finger always on the throttle.

The planes I took on seemed relatively good at dodging mean without turning the experience into endless tail chasing, which was nice.

I also noticed that you can stall in the game, which adds a touch more realism.

The biggest question I have about the game (besides price and date) is what sort of multiplayer it will have.

The EA representatives who recently showed Kotaku Madden NFL Arcade, a five-on-five simplified version of a pro football game, said that a mode that is fun on Nintendo's platform just had to be shared with other console audiences. It comes to Xbox Live Arcade and the PlayStation Network later this year.

So if the screens and description of Madden NFL Arcade seem familiar, look at the Wii version of this year's Madden NFL 10. That's where this new game came from.

The Nintendo version featured a five-on-five football mode that depicted stretched and squished cartoon versions of football players and simplified controls. The XBLA/PSN game is the same thing, with button controls replacing motion controls and the graphics improved for the more powerful consoles. The Wii version didn't include procedural tackling animations. The Xbox/PS3 version, like its full-fledged Madden NFL 10 Xbox/PS3 big brothers, does.

In Arcade, as on the Wii, gamers have four downs to score a touchdown on a 60-yard field. How simplified does it get? A basic playbook lets players trigger short, medium or deep passing or running play and then just go. Players can swap control of the players on the field, perform context-sensitive tackles. Kicking is automatic. Just opt for the extra point after a touchdown and it's yours. Or go for a two-point conversion. Defense is just as simple, with the defensive player guessing the play of the offense.

Special power-ups can freeze opposing players or speed your offense with a turbo boost.

The game includes all of the NFL's teams and the top 10 players from each. Arcade includes a co-op mode and online play. I tried a head-to-head game, me vs. an EA developer.

I stink at Madden yet was able to control this simplified version in seconds and have a pretty good time of it. Gamers sometimes question the influence simplified game designs targets to the Wii audience might have. But my first impressions of Madden NFL Arcade suggest that this transition is a worthwhile one.

Pricing details for the new game, which was included in the base product of Madden NFL 10 but will obviously cost extra for Xbox 360 and PS3 owners who do or don't have Madden NFL 10 for those systems, has yet to be announced. The XBLA and PSN versions are slated for release this holiday season.

As virtual arts and crafts go, it's a pretty satisfying experience. There's spooky music, a lot of freedom with the carving function and a Show Off! mode that features eerie settings in which to view your finished jack-o-lantern.

Having played the demo versions of other pumpkin carving sims, I've got to give Pumpkin Chop the top nod for allowing users the most freedom. Other carving sims either make you use pre-made cutouts to makes your pumpkin's face or just don't let you savor your lit up pumpkin the way that Pumpkin Chop does.

My only gripe about the application is that there's no scraping-out-the-insides portion. You could totally turn that into a fun/gross mini-game.

Check it out, if you've got 80 Microsoft Points to spare. If nothing else, it's a lot less messy than the real thing.

Note: A code for this app was provided by the developer for reviewing purposes.