Factorio

Currently clocking in as the highest user-rated Steam game of all time, Factorio represents one of the most successful indie game launches ever, with over 500,000 copies sold so far. If you haven't heard of it, it's basically a 2D factory building/management sim that tasks you with brazenly appropriating the natural resources of the planet you crash land on to construct a factory complex with the ultimate goal of constructing a replacement rocket to get the hell off the planet. You also build tanks and turrets and stuff to repel the native aliens trying to take their land and resources back.

I've only played about an hour so I'm not nearly ready to really write anything substantive about it (it doesn't help that dozens of hours of Mad Max hasn't exactly kept my puzzle-solving skills in top form), but the think that stuck out to me so sharply was weirdly similar to real life the setup for Factorio is. I can't be the only a little weirded out by this, right? I'm willing to give it the benefit of the doubt and hope that there's a different aspect to it that will present itself, but the way this game frames resource grabbing and killing of native creatures as intrinsically good actions is... uh... interesting.

Steven Wilson // Beacon

Steven Wilson - 4 1/2

Wilson's ear for the hook and ability to pen a great chorus have always set him apart from his steadfastly anti-mainstream contemporaries, this latest EP makes one a bit hopeful that they could witness the second coming of commercially viable progressive acts since Rush and Pink Floyd. Musically it's somewhat of a companion piece to Hand. Cannot. Erase but leaner and with more of a pop bent, but the palette cleansers recall Wilson's more obtuse roots with Luminol, particularly the excellent "Vermillioncore". 

Beacon - The Ways We Separate

Tautly restrained beats provide the darkly pulsing current that drives these electronic R&B sketches. The sparse architecture of the songs are just a scaffolding for the prime mover of Thomas Mullarney's smoky voice which curls and weaves through a mix of uptempo foot-tappers and somber ballads. Relationships can suck, but songs like "Headlights" go a long way.

Firewatch

I've had my eye on Firewatch for a while now, ever since seeing the initial trailers. The game seemed to have a lot going for it: appealing visuals, generally great writing, and the hint of a possibly sinister plotline. Developed by The Secret of Monkey Island and The Walking Dead alumns, it appeared to be one of the safer bets for this releases this year. I don't think many people imagined that Firewatch would turn out like it did, but it's certainly not what those trailers and early previews may have indicated.

A lot of people are probably going to feel kind of cheated by this game. While it does feature all the mechanics shown off in pre-release trailers and materials -- rappelling down/up cliff faces, mantling over rocks, locating supply caches, and navigating your way with a physical map and compass, that's the entirety of Firewatch's mechanical depth. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing as long as the rest of the package holds up, but it's just an unfortunate cost of doing business with narrative-heavy games like this -- there really isn't an awful lot of meat and potatoes "game" to show or surprise players with once they get it. With most games, that's not a huge deal since the "gameplay" chunk is usually like 70% of the whole lot in most cases. Since Firewatch seems more interested in using it's mechanics as ways to further the narrative rather than to facilitate play, that may leave some players feeling a bit cold (Personally, the physical map and compass just made me remember how cool Far Cry 2 was)". Certain objects can be interacted with or stored in your backpack and manipulated with the mouse/thumbstick similar to a Frictional Games title, but you can only pick up and carry with you items that are necessary to advance the story, so there isn't much adventure game style inventory management to speak of -- no inventory at all, actually.

Another big part of the game is it's presentation, and I actually was just a little disappointed by Firewatch's visuals. Style and lighting-wise, it's a slam dunk -- the Wyoming skyline is gorgeous at any time of day: sunsets and rises drench the drape the landscape in a ruby red blanket, while the midday sun paints a fantastic picture of the harsh terrain. Draw distance is alright, as are shadows, but the grass and trees themselves never looked quite right, and some textures are noticeably sharper than others. Henry's animations are universally solid (although a bit repetitive) and Campo Santo's depiction of the wilderness manages to evoke "the good outdoors" rugged beauty and a mysterious, all-encompassing loneliness that is always just a plot beat away.

Narrative is where Firewatch's heart truly lies, however. The central relationships in the game -- Henry's with Julia and separately with Delilah -- are the main focus of the game. The game is set up as a pretty standard thriller: a man who has lost everything removes himself from the world to escape, before stumbling on a sinister conspiracy. It's absurd, of course, and the game constantly reminds you of this fact by throwing mock spy thrillers a la Robert Ludlum in your face up to the finale as cheap paperbacks read by the staff of the park in their ample downtime. The bulk of the plot is almost an exercise in suspension of disbelief up until the ending, which is probably going to upset some, despite it's obviousness. The logical conclusion of the shadowy doings at the supposed center of Firewatch are illuminated to be something far less exciting than we had dared to hope: simple human behavior. By the time the credits role, the mystery of Brian's death is mostly resolved, as is the shadowy person listening in on you and Delilah. Mostly. It was all just smoke and mirrors -- nothing that interesting was going on. Just like in real life -- your life.

In the end, I don't think Firewatch is that great of a game. It's a bit overpriced respective to it's length and it doesn't really say anything new, but that doesn't mean it isn't redeemable. If you never played Gone Home, Firewatch has a similar thematic bent towards banality, and Far Cry 3 and Spec Ops: The Line closed the door on escapism pretty firmly. What worries me is that Firewatch won't be remembered for it's sharp dialogue or reminding of the player to embrace life with all it's problems, but just for it's pretty visuals and "misleading" marketing.

Dream Theater // Opeth // David Bowie

  Finding time to actually listen to this thing will be tough for anyone who isn't a cross-country trucker or scientist at an Arctic research station, but it doesn't seem to be worth the time in any case -- the usual stable of common DT criticisms are even more valid with this release. The irony of this band recording an album titled "Awake" seems almost too poetic to be worth mentioning at this point. D

Steven Wilson* continues in his apparent Alan Parsons apprenticeship by giving Opeth's pseudo double album a fresh appraisal. Remixing Damnation seems like trying to touch up the Mona Lisa, but Deliverance is certainly improved with the additional breathing room in the lower registers and is up there with Still Life as their best heavy material and Damnation is just as melancholic and lush as ever. B-

Surprisingly stacked (Tony Levin, Jordan Rudess), Bowie's first album with Tony Visconti in 22 years seems less out-there than than Hours... and more emotionally grounded than practically anything else in his catalog. Rudess' keyboards elevate the simpler pieces ("Everyone Says Hi" in particular is a standout) while the rest of the album is more confident and at-ease than Bowie would ever sound again. B 

*: Apparently Wilson only actually worked on Damnation while Deliverance was handled by Bruce Soord.

Mad Max - A Post-Script to a Post-Apocalypse

Mad Max was released a few months ago to an interestingly mixed reception. While it was simultaneously being put on blast for it's repetitive nature, weak story, and and restrictive gameplay, the game was at the same time scoring well with players. As has been pointed out several times at this point, no one is really wrong here. Mad Max certainly isn't for everyone, and it definitely makes some design choices that I and many others think are questionable. Despite all that stuff, though, I haven't been able to put this thing down even after 3 playthroughs and 100+ hours, and it's in part because of the aspects of the game that I didn't see mentioned nearly enough: the actual building blocks themselves.

The first thing that everyone is willing to admit is that it looks damn good. Really good. Like, way, way better than anything post-apocalyptic has any right to, and it isn't just the skybox. Although the camps do consist of mostly rusty metal there is a huge amount of variety and creativity in their designs, built into the remains of beached boats and submarines, plane wreckage, silos and towers -- quite a step up from the art asset musical chairs game that the Far Cry games play. Small touches like cooking fires and beds are littered throughout, lending a real sense of physical presence that other games of this type so often lack. In the regions that once made up the seafloor, for example, you'll find stands of petrified coral and seaweed strewn about in addition to the nautical nature of the settlements and camps of that area -- whereas once you ascend to higher ground you'll find actual blacktop and ruined buildings.The models and animations are another high point, especially for Max -- all of his actions, from refueling your car to curb-stomping a lizard have a heft and weight to them. The combat animations are brutally satisfying and excellently mocap'd.

On the whole the voice acting is fine, with a few bright spots here and there (Chum in particular - Jason Spisak killin' it. The Outcrier is also great). The soundtrack is subdued and unfortunately mostly forgettable, but the amount of work that went into the engine sounds for the cars is thorough, to say the least. Different types of cars actually sound distinct and small details like the various metal grinders attached to rims produce an identifiable "whooshing" effect that scales depending on the size of the actual metal plates.

The game also features, at it's core, a cast of characters that are related only in the fact that they are all somehow disabled. Jeet suffers from bipolar mood swings, Gutgash relies on a crutch and Pink Eye is completely wheelchair-bound. Despite their impairments these characters are all leaders of people that persevere in the wasteland in spite of everything, and Pink Eye, the most encumbered of them all, rules the most territory! Gradually making their "states" safer and watching their strongholds grow and become more populated is actually pretty satisfying and provides a nice "help the settlers drive off the bandits" motif that lines up nicely with the "modern day Western" shtick the films went for. It's unfortunate that no one really grows or changes besides Max but the biggest misstep the narrative takes is the death of Hope and Glory, which seemed unnecessary plot-wise and a bit gratuitous for such an otherwise comic book-esque experience.

I could go on about this stuff for a while -- about how cars with shredder rims on their tires make increasing amounts of road noise as they speed up, or how Gastown is a persistent feature in skybox always giving you a reference to North, or heavy armor and ramming grills add progressive amounts of weight, eventually turning your car into a tricked-out death hooptie. On the other hand, I could mention how the enemies are so dumb that they'll pull up to you and get out of their cars so you can kindly beat them to death, or how there is something like triple or more the amount of melee slogfests and bullshit optional collectibles than car combat in a Mad Max game, or that the way you get currency is kind of nonsensical, etc. I'm not dumb enough to want to try and make you like this game -- I just wanted to say something in appreciation for the copious amounts of great work that went into building this beast.

Devin Townsend // Our Oceans // Spirit Caravan

 Replace Neil Young's restless energy with clinical bipolar disorder and a see-saw approach to experimentation and you have an idea of who Devin Townsend is. Ocean Machine represents the two threads of his creative drive before they split apart and demanded segregation in separate works: spaced-out ambiance and a more unassuming and deceptively earworm-y blend of progressive/alternative metal than is usually seen. Billy Joel's reaction to hearing Cold Spring Harbor's faulty original pressing was to throw it into the street -- Devin's was to re-record the whole damn album.

C+

Supergroups are the McDonalds of music. They're seemingly always around and most of the time they just fuck up your order and put you in a bad mood, but once in a while they get it right and it just hits the spot -- and Our Oceans really hits the spot. Polished and striking like a fine watch, with an inner mechanism that hints at master craftsmanship, the level of competency on display here is impressive for a bunch of ex-death/progressive/avant-garde metal stiffs. Points deducted for that college freshman level album art, though.

B 

This thorough anthology contains the majority of the output of the true prince-in-exile to Ozzy's throne, Scott Wino, working with perhaps his most wholly successful and consistent band ever. While the second disc is more of a patchwork of semi-filler material, the first is pure stoner/doom magic -- the Caravan proceed from one concise head-banger to the next, with as high a ratio of quality material as Trouble circa '91-'92. Look elsewhere for the Dreamwheel EP, if you must (it's not good).

B-

Just Cause 3

Repetitive in every sense of the word, Just Cause 3 is a disheartening example of a sequel moving two steps back from it's progenitor

Kill Screen kind of already knocked this one out of the park but here we go.

//

More than any other "open world" game, I remember Just Cause 2 not for it's "Chaos system" or upgrade system or variety of different shit to blow up and people to murder, but it's world. The island nation of Panau is etched in my mind as one of my all-time favorite virtual landscapes that I've experienced -- more than the weapon upgrade system or grappling hook/ parachute gimmicks or the insanely low-fi nature of the game's campaign, I remember spending hours just... flying around and exploring. I would literally start the game, head to an airfield, put on an album or podcast, and just... tool around in a plane and do whatever. Bomb the shit out of an oil rig? Sure! Hijack one of those sweet heavy bomber jets? Hell yes. What I was actually doing didn't matter, because the varied environs of Panau were so damn good looking (I have no idea how they got that game to look that good on the 360) and convincingly realized that I spent hours just wandering around and exploring.

Fast forward 5 years: it is now 2015. Video games... have changed. Games festooned with clutter (Fallout 4) and never ending lists of side-chores (Ubisoft games) have become very popular. Avalanche Studios didn't exactly hit a home run with Mad Max, so the sequel to the purest open world experience was hotly anticipated. Unfortunately, yours truly was to busy playing Mad Max and uninstalling Fallout 4 to realize Just Cause 3 was very nearly upon us.

For starters: Just Cause 3 definitely still feels excellent in the movement department. The addition of the wingsuit (coupled with the more forest-y landscape) gives off a pretty pungent whiff of Far Cry, but that doesn't diminish the fact that Rico soars around the isles of Medici more gracefully than he ever has, which Avalanche definitely deserves recognition for. The gunplay also feels less hilariously trashy this time, but it's still stuck in the Crackdown wheelhouse of floatiness and nonexistent recoil so not much has changed there besides the fact that your small arms are surprisingly effective at destroying what I would assume were hardened military equipment --- radar systems, generators, and fuel tanks will all fall to the continued fire of your weapons (honestly) quite easily.

On the opposite side of things, vehicle handling has been imported almost flawlessly from Just Cause 2 -- that is to say that any kind of ground vehicle handles amazingly, vein-meltingly bad, but planes and helicopters handle a bit better than before, where they were completely fine. I'm sure this issue will be fixed with mods eventually (at least on PC), but most of the difficulty comes from the fact that the camera tracking Rico is apparently a heavily zoomed feed from a satellite. Coupled with the "less than competitive" level of response from the controls and you have an open world game that really doesn't seem to want you to use vehicles. Infuriatingly, this design philosophy also applies to the large amount of "mods" Avalanche has added as optional upgrades to your starting equipment, which can only be improved by obtaining "gears" from "challenges" -- minigames that have you competing against ghost times of other players. Instead of exploring the environment they've created, you're encouraged to ignore it in favor of self-contained exercises until you're allowed to use the fun stuff.

Unlike JC2, there isn't much design variety -- there aren't any deserts in Medici and only a small portion of it is snowy and distinct from the perpetually-spring environs of the rest of the game world. The landscape itself only looks slightly better than the previous game's offering and gave me some weird frame drops during explosions, which also don't look particularly memorable here. There is an insane amount of pop-in and on a whole the whole package just looks... cheap. The skybox is less interesting (especially after the brilliant one in Mad Max) and the world is less varies on the whole. The core gameplay loop of blowing stuff up is repeated here ad nauseum. Just Cause 3, despite it's lengthy development time, manages to cut out the emergent excellence of it's predecessor in favor of an ample supply of side-quests to fuel your character's progression. It's unfortunate that they opted for such a disposable type of "content" (though it is totally understandable).