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How to be Trained by Video Games

Ways video games can and cannot teach you to have fun.

I’ve been working my way through Max Payne 3 very slowly and I’m finally accepting that I actually just kind of hate it. I expected it not to capture what I love about the first two games; it’s made by Rockstar Games, more famous for the Grand Theft Auto series, taking over from Remedy Entertainment. They have many strengths as a studio but they’re just not going to make a dream-like, whimsical noir. I was unsurprised when they went with something gritter and more abrasive in its humour. What I didn’t expect was that they’d slather the game in this dogshit 00’s-era Hollywood style, with freeze-frames and handheld cam 24-style splitscreens and shit like that.

And I was deeply surprised that they’d fuck up Max’s character – I could read Max as more cynical and bitter after all these years, but I was outraged that they had him make more jokes and yet lose all sense of humour – especially about himself. Max of the original games could be angry, but he tempered it with self-awareness and a willingness to acknowledge his own absurdity (“Who was I to talk? A brooding underdog avenger alone against an empire of evil, out to right a grave injustice?” and “There was no honour in this, no glory. Just me and the gun and the crook.”). There’s often a sense he’s just as amused by everything as he is angry. In this game, he takes himself and everything so goddamned seriously. He can’t give someone the time of day without pissing and moaning about it.

What shocked and horrified me is that this is straight-up a bad game. Like, the gameplay is smooth and elegant, but it’s built on a fundamentally shitty design principle: railroading the player through a particular sequence. MP3 was released in 2012 and this was extremely common for shooters at the time; at its most extreme, this was literal quicktime events (mostly derided), but MP3 falls in a smaller and much more frustrating category of games that want you to play through in a particular way and don’t even signpost it for you. 

My taste in video games falls under two extremes: either there is a simple problem with a million possible solutions, or there is an exact sequence you have to get perfectly right. For the former, think of Metal Gear Solid or Left 4 Dead, where you’re given a bunch of tools and an obstacle and you have to think on your feet on how to get through. For the latter, think of Crash Bandicoot, Portal, or Ratchet & Clank, where it’s more about your reflexes than creative thinking. The disadvantage of the ‘million solutions’ problem is that it’s very difficult to program and, I have to say, requires a certain amount of genius to recognise as an approach in the first place (although RPGs have it as a matter of course).

The disadvantage of the ‘exact sequence’ is that, when done poorly, it feels cheap and uncreative. Crash Bandicoot makes it work with a staggering amount of detail – you feel like a marble in a Rube Goldberg machine bouncing around. Portal makes it work by establishing a very limited set of tools in the player’s toolbox, literally in that you have precisely one tool but also in that your world is very limited and has very clearly established rules of physics and ways of interacting with the world, as well as allowing the player all the time in the world to experiment.

Rockstar’s most famous games seem, initially, like ‘million solutions’ games – they did, after all, solidify the ‘open world’ genre, in which you are presented with a big playground and run around in it. But when you look at individual missions in the Grand Theft Auto series, it becomes apparent that they’re actually many tiny ‘exact sequence’ missions stitched together and given space between to collect toys to use in those sequences, as well as the open world providing a few randomised elements.

Like, most GTA missions have to be done in one specific way or they don’t work, and this is most notable in their most infamously bad ones – “Wrong Side Of The Tracks” from GTA: San Andreas is a mission in which you’re on a motorbike chasing a bunch of gangstas standing on top of a train, and it’s monotonously simple if you drive up on the side of the mountain at one point and nearly impossible otherwise, with the game never telling you this.

I notice the older the studio got, the more it leaned in on trying to control the player’s experience and the more older players rebelled. GTA V is infamous for several sequences in which the player is expected to do grunt work that it could otherwise have skipped over, like buying tools for heists. Too much of Max Payne 3 keeps expecting me to play a certain way and not telling me what that way is, expecting me to just go along with it. At the time of writing, I’m stuck on this UNDESCENDED TESTICLE of a level in which, based upon the logic presented to me, I believe I’m being pushed back by a massive wave of enemies, and I need to take cover and get headshots as fast as possible… except they’re also throwing grenades at me that land past my cover and kill me instantly.

Now, I know I’m not the greatest gamer in the world – at best, medium reflexes. But I am pretty good at figuring out what a game is trying to train me to do. Left 4 Dead 2 is one of my favourite games because it immediately trains you to keep close to your allies (but not too close) and constantly scan the area, both visually and aurally, for enemies. Gears of War is a weakly designed series, but it essentially trains you to keep your head down and attack diligently. Metal Gear Solid is fun as fuck because it trains you to study your surroundings, plan a strategy, and then execute it both quickly and with a willingness to adapt.

The various Grand Thefts Auto hold up because they do train you, even as the gameplay’s execution tends to be weak. I particularly love the gang warfare sections of GTA: SA, in which you take, defend, and maintain territory. On a macro level, they’re exercises in diligence; you use free time to build up resources like guns and skills, you move quickly when your territory is attacked, and you studiously make your way through enemy territory. On a micro level, you keep your distance to try and take out enemies from afar, using cover and moving efficiently. This kind of thing is all over the games; you’re strongly rewarded for committing to many smaller things, like side jobs, to build up cash and weapons for the main missions.

As far as I can tell, Max Payne 3 is training you to read its goddamned mind and work out the exact sequence for each particular level; this is similar to the design of the original games, but ironically the improved technology (like far superior AI) make it harder to determine what actions the game wants from you, and I don’t find this very fun. I don’t mind getting frustrated at a video game when it’s clear what I’m supposed to do and I’m just doing it badly; I get extremely frustrated when the game withholds its own objectives and I feel like I have no control over what happens to me.