This is going to be a fairly comprehensive look at Trails of Cold Steel 3 and as a result is probably going to be best read if you have played the game already. It isn’t often that a game makes a big enough changed impression on me to want to discuss its story at length both at the midway point and the conclusion, but – and this may be a flaw in some ways – it backloads a lot of its plot, and does so in a way that works effectively as a mirror of the way CS1 saw tranquility fall apart.
And while this article is going to go into some heavy places in terms of discussing the game’s political themes and inspirations, it’s important to remember it’s also very funny a lot of the time. Some of the jokes are wearing, particularly the “comedy lesbian” characters, but a lot of the time there are some sharp scenes and charming interactions. It’s worth considering it in comparison to a game I watched a playthrough of recently, Tales of Symphonia 2. That was a sequel to a beloved RPG that brought back, as visiting characters, the old party. It did so in a way that mostly annoyed the player, as it felt that character development was undone and beloved characters were reduced to one-note gimmicks and punchlines. CS3 largely avoids that; it remembers that the party have all matured as characters, have now settled down into new jobs and it offers a fairly charming depiction of a circle of friends trying to recapture the old magic.
For all, with distance, I can see the grain of some good ideas in Trails of Cold Steel 2 it is fundamentally a weirdly paced, unrewarding game which serves some necessary story purpose – marking the characters’ development from students reacting to an unfair world to young adults trying to take action against it – but does so in a slow, inconsequential fashion. The story it covers needed to be told to bridge 1 and 3 both for political and character developments, and I am unsure how exactly it could have been done better, but nevertheless I am very glad Cold Steel 3 has gone in a different direction and made something thematically and narratively stronger.
Spoilers for the Trails of Cold Steel series follow.
School-set RPGs are not uncommon as a concept and so do not, themselves, need much specific introduction or explanation. Nevertheless, there is a subset that I find somewhat more interesting – those which take the idea of an academy for the young and influential to learn martial and political skills so they may become future leaders. The big one, for a while, was Trails of Cold Steel; I’ve written in the past about its slight inability to land its heavier political themes, and the inescapable tension between its ideas of personal friendship and intrinsic goodness versus wider-scale conflict. I like it a lot, despite its flaws (and will merrily play Cold Steel 3 and 4 when the chance arises) but it is a series of games, like Valkyria Chronicles 1 and 4, that raises a lot of very interesting critical arguments.
This article contains significant spoilers for Trails of Cold Steel 1 and 2 and Fire Emblem Three Houses.
In the grand scheme of things, F-Zero Falcon Densetsu is everything that can be conceptually wrong with an action anime – it is a needless dump of lore in adapting a game that really doesn’t need any (a racing game), it is a sports-action series that shamelessly finds excuses to make the action revolve around sports, and it is often quite ugly because of the sheer amount of flat-textured and obtrusive CGI that it relies on for action scenes. It is wholly forgettable and probably mostly forgotten (save for the existence of a Gameboy Advance game that uses its story), and yet I find myself wanting to recommend it.
I think three things motivate the player to continue playing the Danganronpa games; firstly the desire to “win”, and see the villains defeated and the survivors escape. Secondly, the morbid curiosity of detective fiction, the desire to see who dies and how those mysteries occur. And thirdly, the – in this case – equally morbid desire to see justice done for those murders. Ordinarily the pursuit of justice in detective fiction is not, per se, a perverse act to desire; the police intercede, or the detective pursues the crook, and they are sent to court and tried and that is that. But Danganronpa makes the act of justice into its own grotesque game that culminates in a parodic execution after the class become in turn judge and jury. The extreme, horror-movie tone of the executions – death by piano-shaped iron maiden, by fairground wheel of death, by baseballs, and so on – is just as memorable as the resolution of the mysteries and I would argue a driving factor in the game’s bizarre, horrific entertainment.
This article contains detailed discussion of the plot of Danganronpa V3, as well as Prey (2017)
There is a good setting, and indeed a good story, hiding in the back third of Horizon Zero Dawn. The first two-thirds make reaching that excellent payoff perhaps a little too frustrating, but at the same time I am not entirely sure how I would have presented it differently. The game spends hours presenting a hostile, superstitious and often annoying world which genuinely feels like the sort of tribalistic society that would emerge in a post-apocalyptic world, but at the same time it plays so heavily on how regressive the world is it becomes difficult – from perspective of the protagonist, and by extension the player – to forgive them enough to save them.
Note: This review also talks about the plot of Turn-A Gundam, as well as discussing details of the story of Horizon: Zero Dawn.
In a lot of computer games, moral choices can be reduced to personality tests; they may be interesting dilemmas, but my enduring memory of games even as enjoyable as Mass Effect and Dragon Age is the choices still led you, eventually, to a fight or not a fight and a vaguely equivalent reward. This is not inherently a bad thing, the games still had memorable character moments, and generally hold up well as stories. Even something like The Witcher 3, which does not simply fall into good/bad decisions, generally has a lot of situations where the options are bad/worse and you as a player are not quite sure what will be worse (because the people the characters interact with are irrational, bigoted or stupid). But, nevertheless, it is not for no reason that moral decisions in video games became typecast as “do a good thing for a small reward, or a bad thing for a possibly bigger reward and a fight”; idea like Mass Effect‘s Renegade and Paragon points provided clear mechanical incentives for making choices that were often empathy versus utilitarianism. Bioshock was probably the weakest example of all; there, moral choice was “do you murder someone who looks innocent for immediate fiscal reward, or spare them for a larger reward later”. Hardly an interesting dilemma and almost a purely mechanical one.
Mirror’s Edge Catalyst is a game I was eagerly looking forward to playing for no reason other than the flawed original’s immensely enjoyable gameplay; the first game offered something interesting and different, a first-person acrobatic platforming game which offered minimal combat. It was not perfect, and felt underdeveloped, but the sequel seemed to offer a fuller and more developed experience. I am thoroughly enjoying Catalyst as a game; its mechanics are more polished, it has a large amount of missions to complete and its aesthetics are excellent (and Solar Fields’ soundtrack, readily available to purchase online, is well worth buying for any fans of ambient music). But it is a game I am enjoying despite a lot of flaws; while there is a well-made game there, it is dressed up in a lot of superfluous and questionable design decisions.
Note: This review discusses in some detail the plot of Mirror’s Edge Catalyst.
Having recently played both Dishonored games in succession, I have had the opportunity to compose my thoughts about the series; initially I was eager to discount it as not for me simply because stealth games are not my favourite type and the nonspecific steampunk-pseudo-British aesthetic of the first game, all whalers, fog and clunky technology, seemed overplayed and uninteresting. However, I came to quite enjoy the games as I played through them and even ended up playing the second in a mostly non-lethal fashion, with attempts at a much higher level of stealth and creativity than the first game (which ended up as a kind of farce as a masked assassin roamed the streets lobbing grenades and land-mines and shooting pistols at anything that moved).
Note: This review discusses a number of plot points from both Dishonored and Dishonored 2 and assumes some familiarity with the games’ stories.
The final five of my Top 15 Games of 2015; again it is worth repeating that being in this final five does not reflect on relative quality, only timing.
OlliOlli 2 is an entertaining follow-up to the original OlliOlli, expanding on its straightforward skateboarding action and serving as another prime example of how the endless runner genre can be expanded into an in-depth game. Combining the simple jump-and-dodge action and challenge chasing of something like Punch Quest with the arcade skateboarding action of the classic Tony Hawk games, it is challenging yet still easy enough to learn. The plethora of such fun, retro-style action games which merge modern light game sensibilities with the finely-tuned ideas of retro gaming that can be bought on various download services is a pleasant thing; many of these games serve to remind the player of the good memories they have of retro games while including many of the changes to the medium that have improved it.
Mario Maker stuck with me far more easily than the comparable LittleBigPlanet mostly because Mario is iconic and something with which I was familiar. As a creation kit for 2D platform games it is not perfect – the gating of map components, while a sensible ease-of-use feature for new players, was too slowly undone – but as a recreation of Mario physics it is spot-on. As a result levels can be made that do not necessitate anything except experience of Mario to take part – one of the things I disliked about LBP was its idiosyncratic physics and mechanics that never seemed to gel with me. The virtues of Mario Marker are primarily ease-of-use and quality-of-life ones; the core game engine within is so timeworn and refined it is hard to fault. Players may not upload a level they cannot beat (removing some of the issues endemic to other user-creation engines of unplayable junk levels predominating), for example. In many ways a refined, user-experience focused Mario level maker is the best use of retro game nostalgia possible; the player may design their own play experience and be given the tools of classic game design with a user-friendly front-end.
Assault Android Cactus
Although this game was released via Steam Early Access some time ago, it was finally finished in 2015 and was very much worth the wait. A twin-stick shooter with a large library of unique characters, interesting multi-stage bosses and entertaining cheat codes unlocked by scoring well, it is – much like OlliOlli 2 – a modern user-experience gloss on retro gaming. Cheat codes range from deformed models and colour filters to adding AI players, super-difficulty modes and most interestingly of all a slightly erratic but interesting first-person mode – arguably unplayable on some levels but entertaining it how functional it is. Although it is mechanically a simple arena shooter there are enough level gimmicks, enemy variations and weapon options to make it highly replayable; there is a lot of fun to be found in taking a new character with a new moveset into old levels to set a high score. A real highlight of the level gimmicks is a very difficult late-game level which turns the basic timer mechanic (players must grab battery items to keep their timer going) on its head by adding an AI rival competing for the same power-ups.
Star Wars Battlefront
This may be a controversial choice; some people have argued this game too simple and lacking depth to have lasting enjoyment value. I would argue that in theory this is its virtue; it sells itself as offering a Star Wars experience and provides that without the in-depth customisation that adds busywork to Call of Duty. From the off players can be Star Wars characters, getting the iconic Rebel and Imperial blasters, X Wings and TIE Fighters without needing to unlock them. Powerups add some democracy to the Battlefield inspired vehicle action by limiting the opportunity to camp vehicle spawns, and also add the joy of getting to fly the Millennium Falcon or become Darth Vader. One can sit down and get as epic or as restrained an experience as one wants; it is a FPS for busy people and there is definitely a place for that. While, arguably, Call of Duty‘s 5-minute matches are perhaps more suitable for quick play the work of maintaining classes and the drip-feeding of unlocks via weapon XP, unlock tokens and so on adds a metagaming level to it that Star Wars does not have. Players can get new blasters, but that is as far as it goes and the iconic weapons – the classic Stormtrooper rifle, for example – are available from the start.
DanganRonpa Ultra Despair Girls
DanganRonpa and its sequel are fascinating, grotesque visual novels with logic puzzle elements. That this spinoff is a third-person shooter seems at first bizarre, but the result is something far weirder and more compelling than anyone could imagine. It redoubles the grotesque horror of DanganRonpa, with the loathsome Monokuma in many ways replaced as antagonist by a group of depraved children whose backstories – revealed in grim cutscenes – should be sympathetic but cannot easily be reconciled with the way they act. It is a game of ever-deeper depths of vileness and the only catharsis comes in its wearyingly peppy comedy between the dim protagonist and the erratic, lecherous Toko Fukawa (a returning character from the first game). Full of esoteric anime jokes, interesting and challenging collectible hunts and puzzle rooms and some strangely-designed shooter mechanics that work in a way that disorients veterans of the genre, Ultra Despair Girls feels like a meta-commentary on shooters and the expectations of misunderstood villains.