When Dead Space 3 went public, the big fear was that it was yet another misguided exercise in bandwagon-jumping, a survival shooter with aspirations beyond its (orbital) station, beguiled by the setpieces and tactical symmetry of a Gears of War. As it turns out, Dead Space 3's problem is the opposite of all that: it's a little too faithful, or at least faithful in too slavish, unscientific a fashion, regurgitating the Frankenstein's monsters, moody orchestrals and chamber combat of its predecessors with negligible additions, yet never quite achieving the chemistry that binds them together.
It's rumoured EA has put the series on hold, following sluggish sales of the latest instalment. Such a decision would be rather premature - the game's barely been on shelves a month, and doesn't seem to have sold abysmally despite losing ground to the likes of Tomb Raider and Aliens - and the publisher has, naturally, denied all charges. But given less-than-rapturous scores and the lingering stink about microtransactions, it's not impossible that Dead Space's internal standing has been irrevocably tarnished, and that a spell in publishing limbo is in order.
Before the announcement of the Awakened DLC - it's on sale now - I was ready to call time on the series. Dead Space 3's diminishing returns are palpable at every layer of the experience, from the way Weapon Benches now allow you to cobble together fire modes from the previous games, to the way old Necromorph breeds reappear with highly questionable cosmetic alterations - Lurkers, for instance, are now born of canine corpses rather than human infants, though they behave much as before.
Playing the game for review, I was depressed by the skill with which Visceral has invested environments with exactly the same, long-concluded tales of madness and death. "What's that, Unsuspecting Science Officer #239? You say the bodies have vanished from the morgue, and there's something rattling around in the ceiling? Hmm. Why not stand with your back to a vent while you think about the startlingly eloquent messages you'll scrawl in blood across the wall, exactly three minutes and 34 seconds from now. Don't forget to log the day's events on this audio diary before you go."
Awakened won my attention back because it suggests that Visceral's not only conscious of the risks of eking a universe out, but capable of playing on them explicitly in-game - adding a welcome extra dimension to the franchise's worn-out Unitologist villains in the process. Following the destruction of the Big Bad at Dead Space 3's conclusion, surviving cultists have taken respite in the debris field above Tau Volantis, converting long-abandoned space hulks into ramshackle temples.
Here, they've contrived to accommodate the death of their god by taking the obscene business of bodily fusion into their own hands. As you tour the CMS Terra Nova, you'll run into man-made parodies of the iconic Necromorph Stalkers - human torsos with crudely sewn-on bladed appendages. Thus is the process of "bolt on" franchise iteration via sequels made literal, along with its drawbacks.
I've yet to play the pack in full, but this core concept suggests that Visceral has the wit and penetration to justify a fourth instalment. Dramatic changes are, however, required across the board. For one thing, the long-suffering Isaac Clarke has got to go. Clarke's always made a dubious returning hero, precisely because he was such a great game character to begin with - a doggedly mute blank canvas whose name betrays Visceral's inspirations, born of pained gestures and raggedy breathing, offering just enough in the way of prior motivations to contextualise who the player wants him to be.
Nowadays, that masterfully realised cipher has to coexist with the Isaac Clarke of cutscenes, a grim-faced everyman with the emotional range of a Caesar salad. Pestered by EA to make Isaac a Hollywood hero, Visceral appears to have forgotten that great character design can be as much about what you hint at, what you bury in the silences, as what you give away in dialogue. Hopefully, Dead Space 4's hero or heroine will leave the helmet on and the microphone off.
If Isaac goes, I hope the Necromorphs go too - or at least, that they're relegated to the status of background noise in the face of a new and qualitatively distinct threat, which evolves the combat away from Stasis and limb-chopping. Dead Space's virulent, duct-loving bogeymen have had a good run, thanks to some fun mutations like the goofy, calculating Stalkers and bovine Feeders, but putting them down has become a question of muscle-memory rather than tactics. In particular, the concept of a reanimating Necromorph that pursues you through a level has been done to death and back. (The self-awareness we glimpse in Awakened doesn't seem to have occurred to Visceral here.)
The Necromorphs were a second-hand idea to begin with, as anyone who's ever passed within 50 metres of a DVD store will know - they're Ridley Scott's xenomorphs mixed with Starcraft's Zerg. Visceral could take further inspiration from the latter, introducing a more solitary, sophisticated breed of enemy comparable to the Protoss (themselves modelled on the Predator). In the past, Dead Space has cast the player as a god of technology, battling seas of homogenous, rippling flesh; upsetting that particular binary would be a great way of constructing new forms of fear and anxiety. Imagine lumbering through the shadows of a garage, conscious that you're in the presence an awesomely powerful and unknowable hunter.
Does multiplayer have a part to play in Dead Space's future? It's tempting to say that it must - current wisdom holds that appending online features is the surest, safest way to keep a series alive past its second or third instalment - but decent, varied New Game+ options, well-paced DLC injections and modular campaign design in the vein of Gears of War: Judgment make for reasonable alternatives. Dead Space 3's co-op feels like a solid compromise in the face of Dead Space 2's failings, giving players a reason to hold onto their copies without risking comparison with the clearly influential Left 4 Dead and Call of Duty.
In the past I've entertained the view that horror sequels are a contradiction in terms. There's nothing quite so fearful as the unknown, after all, and sequels are by definition known quantities. But that's as much a commentary on sequels as horror - on the way they've become over-determined by iteration, fearful of breaking from the formulae fans fell in love with. Given a bit more boldness on Visceral's part, and a little less heavy-handedness on the part of EA, Dead Space could be relevant for more than its controversial monetisation systems. I hope it gets the chance.
Source: OXM
Thanks to: Rheena.com
It's rumoured EA has put the series on hold, following sluggish sales of the latest instalment. Such a decision would be rather premature - the game's barely been on shelves a month, and doesn't seem to have sold abysmally despite losing ground to the likes of Tomb Raider and Aliens - and the publisher has, naturally, denied all charges. But given less-than-rapturous scores and the lingering stink about microtransactions, it's not impossible that Dead Space's internal standing has been irrevocably tarnished, and that a spell in publishing limbo is in order.
Before the announcement of the Awakened DLC - it's on sale now - I was ready to call time on the series. Dead Space 3's diminishing returns are palpable at every layer of the experience, from the way Weapon Benches now allow you to cobble together fire modes from the previous games, to the way old Necromorph breeds reappear with highly questionable cosmetic alterations - Lurkers, for instance, are now born of canine corpses rather than human infants, though they behave much as before.
Playing the game for review, I was depressed by the skill with which Visceral has invested environments with exactly the same, long-concluded tales of madness and death. "What's that, Unsuspecting Science Officer #239? You say the bodies have vanished from the morgue, and there's something rattling around in the ceiling? Hmm. Why not stand with your back to a vent while you think about the startlingly eloquent messages you'll scrawl in blood across the wall, exactly three minutes and 34 seconds from now. Don't forget to log the day's events on this audio diary before you go."
Awakened won my attention back because it suggests that Visceral's not only conscious of the risks of eking a universe out, but capable of playing on them explicitly in-game - adding a welcome extra dimension to the franchise's worn-out Unitologist villains in the process. Following the destruction of the Big Bad at Dead Space 3's conclusion, surviving cultists have taken respite in the debris field above Tau Volantis, converting long-abandoned space hulks into ramshackle temples.
Here, they've contrived to accommodate the death of their god by taking the obscene business of bodily fusion into their own hands. As you tour the CMS Terra Nova, you'll run into man-made parodies of the iconic Necromorph Stalkers - human torsos with crudely sewn-on bladed appendages. Thus is the process of "bolt on" franchise iteration via sequels made literal, along with its drawbacks.
I've yet to play the pack in full, but this core concept suggests that Visceral has the wit and penetration to justify a fourth instalment. Dramatic changes are, however, required across the board. For one thing, the long-suffering Isaac Clarke has got to go. Clarke's always made a dubious returning hero, precisely because he was such a great game character to begin with - a doggedly mute blank canvas whose name betrays Visceral's inspirations, born of pained gestures and raggedy breathing, offering just enough in the way of prior motivations to contextualise who the player wants him to be.
Nowadays, that masterfully realised cipher has to coexist with the Isaac Clarke of cutscenes, a grim-faced everyman with the emotional range of a Caesar salad. Pestered by EA to make Isaac a Hollywood hero, Visceral appears to have forgotten that great character design can be as much about what you hint at, what you bury in the silences, as what you give away in dialogue. Hopefully, Dead Space 4's hero or heroine will leave the helmet on and the microphone off.
If Isaac goes, I hope the Necromorphs go too - or at least, that they're relegated to the status of background noise in the face of a new and qualitatively distinct threat, which evolves the combat away from Stasis and limb-chopping. Dead Space's virulent, duct-loving bogeymen have had a good run, thanks to some fun mutations like the goofy, calculating Stalkers and bovine Feeders, but putting them down has become a question of muscle-memory rather than tactics. In particular, the concept of a reanimating Necromorph that pursues you through a level has been done to death and back. (The self-awareness we glimpse in Awakened doesn't seem to have occurred to Visceral here.)
The Necromorphs were a second-hand idea to begin with, as anyone who's ever passed within 50 metres of a DVD store will know - they're Ridley Scott's xenomorphs mixed with Starcraft's Zerg. Visceral could take further inspiration from the latter, introducing a more solitary, sophisticated breed of enemy comparable to the Protoss (themselves modelled on the Predator). In the past, Dead Space has cast the player as a god of technology, battling seas of homogenous, rippling flesh; upsetting that particular binary would be a great way of constructing new forms of fear and anxiety. Imagine lumbering through the shadows of a garage, conscious that you're in the presence an awesomely powerful and unknowable hunter.
Does multiplayer have a part to play in Dead Space's future? It's tempting to say that it must - current wisdom holds that appending online features is the surest, safest way to keep a series alive past its second or third instalment - but decent, varied New Game+ options, well-paced DLC injections and modular campaign design in the vein of Gears of War: Judgment make for reasonable alternatives. Dead Space 3's co-op feels like a solid compromise in the face of Dead Space 2's failings, giving players a reason to hold onto their copies without risking comparison with the clearly influential Left 4 Dead and Call of Duty.
In the past I've entertained the view that horror sequels are a contradiction in terms. There's nothing quite so fearful as the unknown, after all, and sequels are by definition known quantities. But that's as much a commentary on sequels as horror - on the way they've become over-determined by iteration, fearful of breaking from the formulae fans fell in love with. Given a bit more boldness on Visceral's part, and a little less heavy-handedness on the part of EA, Dead Space could be relevant for more than its controversial monetisation systems. I hope it gets the chance.
Source: OXM
Thanks to: Rheena.com
