Cyberpunk 2077 Review (PC)

Choom, if you haven’t heard of Cyberpunk 2077 by now you’ve been living under a rock. It launched with much controversy after many years of hype and several delays. Hell, I still remember 8 years ago when the first teaser trailer dropped. But lets forget about that for now, because despite some issues, Cyberpunk 2077 is a damn excellent game.

Taking place in the titular year of 2077, Cyberpunk 2077, which is based off the tabletop game Cyberpunk 2020 and its expansions developed by R. Talsorian Games, has you playing as V, a merc who grew up in the megalopolis of Night City or its surrounding area. You have three background options, which are Nomad, Street Kid and Corpo which all have short prologues and each have their own set of unique dialogue options throughout the game and assist in allowing for reasonably flexible roleplaying within the limitations of the video game format.

Character customization is also fairly robust, allowing you to create a V who is suited to your aesthetic sensibilities. It even contains the often joked about genitalia options, which unfortunately are covered up in the games photo mode and while these options are largely superfluous for the ordinary player, I have a sneaking suspicion this was included to get ahead of modders who add nudity as a first priority.

The basic story, which I won’t reveal beyond what was provided in pre-release material, has you ending up with a chip in your head containing the personality of Nigh City legend, Johnny Silverhand, a rockerboy and terrorist who is now overwriting V’s identity. He looks like and is voiced by the breathtaking Keanu Reeves who expertly delivers the dry humour and jaded sarcasm of the old rocker. The central throughline of the main quest is to get V and Johnny to become separate again.

At first, Johnny comes across as a real asshole and how you choose to interact with him can influence the story a decent amount. However, he has excellent character development and a great arc despite technically being a digital construct and over time, at least in my first playthrough, I found him to really grow on me. The same applies to all the other characters you meet in the major questlines, whose characterisations are impressive and believable as good writing, excellent voice performances and a quite frankly ridiculous attention to detail in character animations during these sequences drawn together purely in first person perspective, bring these characters to life and intimately immerses you in the world. Even side characters who only appear from time to time have the same attention to detail. Pedestrians do not, nor is their AI particularly impressive but like The Witcher series, they’re basically part of set dressing, they’re extras.

Structurally, the story is quite odd and a little bit loose as the game starts with the prologue, has Act 1 (which leads you to getting Johnny’s biochip in your brain) and then Act 2, which is the rest of the game. Its very weird, but it mostly works and the writing is strong enough that makes everything that might feel disparate at first become a more cogent part of the experience. Unlike pretty much every other major RPG series out there, including CD Projekt Red’s own Witcher series, Cyberpunk 2077’s central storyline is about saving yourself rather than the whole world, which is utterly refreshing.

The megalopolis of Night City itself is absolutely stunning and is a wonderfully designed open world that feels like a character in its own right, its history and sociology etched into almost every aspect of the design, coupled with hypersexualised satirical in-world advertising that is often quite funny. In this world, in all my hours of play, I only ever used the fast travel function once or twice. Commuting through the game world in between missions is just that enjoyable, despite the sometimes iffy vehicle controls. Not to mention, the game’s graphics on an artistic and technical level, especially when its firing on all cylinders with full ray tracing effects on, if your system can handle it, that is. When I first got the game, I was playing on my rig using a 1070ti but I couldn’t dial in the settings to get the game looking and performing terribly well, it was really choppy, but once my mythical RTX 3080 arrived, I was able to pump up the settings, turn on the wizardry that is DLSS 2.0 and I got astounding visuals with mostly strong performance.

The music, especially the in-game radio stations are quite excellent, full of mostly original tracks throughout a variety of genres that range from house music, rap, synthpop, rock, metal, industrial, classical and so forth will please a broad range of tastes. Much of the original score for the game is a lot more divisive given its often abrasive electro-industrial sounding tones, but I am a fan of it and it is suitably energetic.

Nested in this open world, is a large amount of sidequests, some of which have deeper narrative aspects and some which are more generic go here, steal this or go here kill this guy are roundly excellent despite a gulf in their narrative presentation. There is a good mix of more linear setpiece type missions and these more generic ones, all have a lot of care put into their design, often channelling the immersive sim style of gameplay found in the Deus Ex series or Metal Gear Solid V: Ground Zeroes. Despite the repetitive mission goals, this design approach is much better than the much more limited way of approaching missions in the Witcher series, despite the overall structure of questing and loot being very similar. It offers a variety of ways of playing for the gunslinger, the stealth hacker or street samurai alike and doesn’t enforce or emphasize stealth in the way the Deus Ex games do, but here I find each approach satisfying, aided by a flexible leveling and perk system, topped off with cybernetic upgrades, although I wish there were more. My favourite is the one that allows double jumping.

Combat feels surprisingly great, with excellent controls and movement that is quite unusual for this kind of RPG. While there are not a huge variety of gun types, each is impressively modeled, sound punchy and have a great amount of heft. Melee combat is also pretty good but feels a bit less polished in terms of sound and animation, but it is still brilliantly satisfying to rush into a crowd of enemies with your high DPS katana or Mantis Blades and let loose. There is also a dynamic cover system so as to not compromise the first-person immersion and it is a little bit finicky sometimes, but it works well enough most of the time even though I normally prefer a dedicated lean option.

 Gore effects are great too and the feedback from hits are satisfying. However, enemy AI is not particularly impressive, but it is serviceable enough that fights, especially boss fights aren’t boring. However, at least on normal difficulty, the game can often feel rather easy and because of the AI not being particularly impressive, the only times I really got flatlined in combat were because of attempting certain quests while being under leveled or if I did something really dumb.

Stealth meanwhile is quite basic, you simply have to stay out of enemies line of sight, but the immersive sim style design of many areas, enemy placements and general architecture of the levels often overcome its simplistic mechanical nature.

As for the much vaunted bugginess of the game, up to patch 1.06, I did not experience too many serious bugs in approximately 60 hours of play. Crashes were rare and most of the glitches were occasional visual glitches and just some weird behaviour with vehicles or a few odd occasions were I died after receiving fall damage from tiny heights in certain spots or getting stuck in geometry or sometimes, after a Johnny sequence, certain screen elements would linger, but those were resolved by reloading a save. In other words, it works on my machine.

Mechanically, there are only two aspects of the game which I feel are definitely underdeveloped. The first is the vehicle handling as stated earlier which needs some tweaking. The second is the way the wanted system works. While in its most basic form, it works like GTA on the surface if you decide to go on a cyberpsychotic rage or because of the way the vehicle handling is, plow into large crowds of people completely by mistake, you can get a sharp escalation to four stars where NCPD spawns right in front of you and you get obliterated almost instantaneously. It’s a bipolar system that at one star is a nothingburger and you can easily get away in a few seconds, to getting nuked. There is no sense of pacing or fun in the way this system works, unlike a typical GTA police chase and shootout.

In short, despite the controversies, I think Cyberpunk 2077 is worth the wait. It expertly blends the open world questing design and brilliantly written cinematic storytelling of The Witcher 3 with the immersive sim aspects of Deus Ex series wrapped up in a extraordinarily well realised and engaging world. Its not perfect and there’s no way it was going to meet the quite frankly ridiculous levels of expectations some people placed in, but taken on its own it’s brilliant despite the jank, if you have a machine good enough to run it. If your only option for playing this is a base model PS4 or Xbox One, then I would advise waiting until it’s patched up some more. There’s a lot of additional content to come for Cyberpunk 2077 in the form of free updates and full fledged expansions and I am looking forward to any reason to go back and spend more time and enjoy new stories in Night City and beyond.

Saints Row The Third Remastered Review–Hit them with that dildo bat again

Purchased for AU$55
Played on PS4

Another day, another remaster. Originally, the Saints Row series started humbly as a simple Grand Theft Auto clone. Once Grand Theft Auto IV dropped in 2008, taking on a much grittier and serious tone compared to previous entries in the series, the Saints Row series began to carve its own identity as a much more light hearted games, putting on more emphasis on comedy and rule of cool as opposed to realism and drama. Nine years after the original release, Saints Row The Third has come out with a remastered edition that not only has impressive visual upgrades, but also holds up surprisingly well.

First, lets start with the visual upgrades. These are excellent and compared to other recent remasters, such as the very lazily done Mafia 2: Definitive Edition, there has been a lot of effort placed here. Just about everything has been upgraded, from textures, to character models, the lighting has been completely overhauled, physically based materials are included and HDR is present as well. While it doesn’t look as good as something built for more modern machines, it is nevertheless an impressive visual upgrade that makes the original version look decidedly flat and dated by comparison.

The game itself follows you as the boss of the Third Street Saints, who are about as big as Dethklok (which is bigger than The Beatles and therefore bigger than Jesus) in the city of Steelport after attempting to rob a bank and being attacked by an organisation called the Syndicate. The plot is straightforward: you need to destroy and overcome the Syndicate and take over Steelport. Its very basic but serves as a solid framework for the absurd action and the diverse theming of the rival gangs, which range from the agent or BDSM looking footsoldiers of Morningstar, the Luchadores of well, the Luchadores and the emo hackers of the Deckers.

Steelport is a city that is quite grounded, imitating the look of a typical American city, however having some of its architecture dedicated to steel workers, giving it something of a proletarian, Soviet flair in certain aspects. The setting is largely grounded, which works as an effective juxtaposition with the generally absurd events that take place. The writing is usually quite funny, ranging from the crude to the clever, regularly mixing things up and putting in interesting situations. Some particular highlights are when you enter a virtual world to take out the deckers and your avatar is a toilet, rescuing the auto-tune voiced Zimos or the Murderbrawl and Pierce’s ill-fated chess games. The story also lacks a lot of dramatic tension and some more serious elements, at least a little bit sprinkled here and there, would have elevated the narrative and balanced out the generally ridiculous tone of everything. Additionally, while the humour does not hit as hard as it did in 2011 and is in all honestly a little dated, it’s still fun.

Mission design usually revolves around these kinds of straightforward shootouts that occasionally include clever one-time gimmicks. However, in the early game, much of the missions are effectively tutorials for the side activity city takeover missions, but after this the campaign picks up substantially from here. And besides, the side missions, such as insurance fraud, snatch, escort and so on provide a solid amount of fun,variety and challenge without excessively padding the game. The weapon roster is mostly your standard pistols, smgs and shotguns or rifles, but there are some fun gimmick weapons like the Penetrator, Shark-o-Matic and so on. This is combined with the map design which is smaller than many of today’s mind boggling large open worlds, but this just makes it tighter and more cohesive. There is also a good vehicle roster, which includes all the ones that were DLC in the original release, that all handle differently and are generally fun to drive. Except motorbikes, which I did not like.

The shooting is fairly straightforward, and feels refreshing in a world where third person shooters dominantly use sticky cover systems. If you have ever played a game like Grand Theft Auto IV or V, it should be quick to get a handle of the controls. However, the control of the game is occasionally stiff and at times I had problems getting stun locked if I got hit with a flamethrower in a tight spot. Dodging also feels a bit floaty and it can be easy to, even while on ground, end up in the skydiving animation which is just odd. It would have been nice if you could shoot, Max Payne style, while in this position, but unfortunately it is not so. I also encountered a couple other glitches, like the lighting disappearing once, but things of this nature were few and far between in my time with the game

Character customization is robust. There is a large amount of clothing articles to choose from and you can make your characters body look as generic or as absurd as you like, offering a lot of flexibility and expression.

The sound, meanwhile, is solid, with impactful weapon effects, good voice acting and excellent use of licensed music and a radio music selection that hits a lot of the right notes for me. However, the original soundtrack often feels very sparse and lacking in memorability.

In closing, Saints Row The Third is a surprisingly robust remaster effort, with a game whose core design and writing, for the most part, holds up quite well in 2020. It is a cohesive package, including all the originals DLC and it does not unnecessarily pad itself out to chew as many hours out of your life as possible. In about 20 hours of play time, I have 93% of total completion and 65% of trophies. It is good, light-hearted fun that I enjoyed immensely and is well worth checking out, whether you have the original or not, especially in a year that has so far thrown darkness and unease into our lives.

8/10

Final Fantasy VII Remake Review–A brilliant translation of a sacred text

After many years of anticipation and before that, desire and rumour, the first part of the Final Fantasy VII Remake project is here. But remaking such a classic, something which amounts to one of gaming’s most sacred and holy of texts, set a high bar. Thankfully, besides a few stumbles along the way, this remake is a superb modernisation of FFVII that is an utter joy to play.

The game starts out exactly like the original, with Cloud Strife atop a hulking train pulling into stop just outside the Mako reactor. High resolution FMV sequences transition seamlessly into real time gameplay, with absolutely stunning visuals where the differences are often hard to tell. It is a treat and a real demonstration of how far the technology in video game graphics has come since 1997. You are first greeted by Barret, the leader of this particular cell of eco terrorist group Avalanche who at first comes across as brash and arrogant. But as the story progresses, you see that he is also caring, charismatic and possesses absolute conviction in the justness of his cause. Cloud himself, a former SOLDIER, is a mercenary that puts on the tough guy, emotionally distant persona, but throughout the game there are cracks of social awkwardness and soft heartedness, such as a couple scenes involving hi-fiving Aerith that are absolutely endearing.

Since classic JRPG turn based combat is regarded as largely outdated (although Persona 5 did prove it can still feel fresh), Final Fantasy VII Remake opts for a real time with pause system which has much more depth than XV’s real time combat. Functioning like an action brawler, with a command menu to select abilities or use items whens you’ve built enough ATB, use summons or build up limit breaks constantly feels fresh and exciting with a sharp tactical edge. It feels like something that should have been the natural evolution of something like Knights of the Old Republic. While the game at times feels on the easy side on Normal difficulty, the combat is best during boss fights or tougher standard enemy mobs that has you spinning lots of plates and using everything as effectively as possible, offering a healthy, satisfying challenge. It also helps that each party member feels distinct to play, with Tifa especially being a relentless machine in combat. This is bolstered by the materia and weapon upgrade system that allows for plenty of flexibility in how you spec your characters. It is deep, responsive, versatile and a lot of fun.

Later, when you are in the Sector 7 and Sector 5 slums respectively, looking up at the sheer size and wonder of the Midgar plates, whose sheer enormity give Ancalagon the Black a run for his money; you meet Tifa and then Aerith. Tifa, who runs the bar Seventh Heaven and is a member of Avalanche is a feisty, capable and caring woman who has some doubts over the methods they utilise but sticks with them.  Aerith of course is adorable and a good person, who knows more than she lets on.  The core cast, and even the supporting cast are all multifaceted, believable characters whose expressiveness do excellent work in pulling you into the events as well as driving them forward.

The actual plot of the game is mostly straightforward and it covers only the Midgar portion of the original game, but expanded. It follows our four heroes as they try to bring down the evil Shinra Electric Power Company, the builders of the awe-inspiring city of Midgar that is both rich in its mythological symbolism and a testament to the hubris of man. The twin themes of environmentalism and class are ever present in the game, but at the same time are little explored and are rather simplistic. They are mostly context rather than focus, but the structure of the story which has you in the slums much of the time, staring up at the Midgar plates and pillar that dominate the skyline, does an effective job of having you identify with the perspectives of the people on below. There is also a meta quality to the storyline and ending, which is proving somewhat divisive online, but I find it to be rather effective and well handled. But in terms of the actual plot, the ending is a little confusing, but it is only a minor stumble.

There is also plenty of levity in the game, the best example being the entire subplot involving Wall Market, the Honeybee Inn and having Cloud crossdress to trick Don Corneo. Its handled tastefully, it’s a tonne of fun to see and more importantly, its hilarious. It is appreciated that instead of being a dour,overly serious game it leans into the sillier aspects of the original to great effect.

The biggest problem with the slums, and occasionally in some other chapters  is a technical one. There are quite a few instances where the textures appear quite obviously low res and I have no idea if it is the asset quality or a bug. I thought they would release a patch, but as of this review, one hasn’t been addressed to fix this issue, which I find baffling.

The side quests have been mostly criticised as filler, and while they are largely simplistic and mostly light on narrative, they are a nice little way to break up the pacing. Thankfully, they aren’t too many so they didn’t get grating. There’s also a couple minigames that return from the original, such as motorbike sequences in certain chapters, as well as darts, squatting and pullups. The latter two are effectively rhythm games and I did get my gopnik award by doing all the squat challenges, but the final pullup challenge is a real ball buster.

Musically, while not every track is a hit and some are there for a laugh, such as Hip Hop de Chocobo, many of the classic themes return with new orchestral arrangements and tracks such as the Main Theme, Aeriths Theme and Tifas are gorgeous tracks that also stand on their own and they are enough to make you well up with emotion.

While Final Fantasy 7 Remake occasionally stumbles, especially with those bizarre texture issues and is only a small portion of the overall story, this modernisation, which is the video game equivalent to the translation of an important ancient text, is stunning. It contains all the things I appreciate most about these types of games, with its brilliant setting, multifaceted, likeable characters and feelings of joy and wonder permeate throughout, tied together through an excellent combat system, wonderful music and mostly excellent graphics. I am greatly looking forward to the next entry in the Final Fantasy VII project whenever it comes out. Hopefully that will not be too long.

9/10

The Russia Anxiety Review

Author: Mark B. Smith
Publisher: Allen Lane (imprint of Penguin Random House UK)
Edition: 1st Hardback
Price: A$55

Have you ever been told that Russians are naturally politically passive and naturally prone to dictatorship? That the Russian state is inherently prone to terror, violence and necessarily expansionistic? In The Russia Anxiety, historian Mark B. Smith holds up the most common stereotypes and assumptions the average westerner has towards Russian political culture to careful scrutiny.  Effectively, Smith’s latest book is a rather robust work of myth-busting rather than history writing as you might be used to it.

While Smith is a historian, this book is more about political culture and international relations rather than history in a traditional sense, especially since the book is arranged thematically. Historical analysis is the primary method and there is no discernible master narrative, like a Marxist or liberal theory underwriting the entire process, which has the effect of making the analysis appear slightly less rigorous and looser and more intuitive. However, the benefit of this is that it allows the analysis to remain flexible, inclusive and unblinkered. It also ensures a lack of hypocrisy, given that this kind of blinkered analysis, as well as path dependence more generally, is what is being criticised throughout the book. Additionally, it is not a comprehensive chronological history and the facts presented are largely utilised in a counter-argumentative fashion intended to reframe typical attitudes, with the facts themselves being generally accepted rather than startling or ground-breaking discoveries.

Smith’s book is divided in three parts. The first part introduces the core concepts that underpin the entire text, as well as providing a very brief lightning of tour of Russian history in general. The second part is the meat of the text, delivering strong analysis on the core assumptions about supposed predisposition to dictatorships, political terror, extremism, empire and the question of Russia’s European-ness. The final, and shortest part deals primarily with how Soviet people engaged with their recent Stalinist past during the Khrushchev Thaw, as well as providing some concluding remarks.

The titular concept, the Russia Anxiety itself is the core thrust of this book and is regularly described as typically having three stages in the cycle, of varying degrees of intensity depending on the exact time period and as something that comes and goes. It’s the seasonal flu of international affairs. The three stages are as follows: fear, contempt and disregard. Fear usually comes from periods, such as in the lead up to the First World War where the German military were concerned about the sheer size of Imperial Russia’s manpower and industrial progress. Contempt comes with events like the Great Terror. Disregard usually follows a Russian defeat, such as the immediate aftermath of the Crimean War or the collapse of USSR in the 1990s. Disregard is especially problematic because, even in circumstances where Russia has diminished power, it is still geopolitically important for balance-of-power relationships and ignoring her legitimate interests, such as bombing Belgrade during the conflict in Yugoslavia or further NATO encroachment simply breeds resentment and mistrust that can strain relations in the short and long term.

An example of a contemporary Western political cartoon relating to Russian politics.  Current cartoons feature familiar stereotypes and accusations.

In practical terms, the Russian Anxiety acts as a container or complex of negative attitudes towards Russia that are formed principally from orientalising prejudices or selective misreading of Russia’s history, leading to faulty conclusions that filter up to rhetoric and policy decisions that often unnecessarily strain relations with the Russian state.  As Smith points out later in the chapter about Empire and Russia’s relationship with Ukraine, specifically over the issue of Crimean annexation, even if the political leaders of NATO countries had less prejudiced attitudes towards Russia, the policy outcome of sanctions likely would have been the same, or at least similar, given issues of international law. You can be rest assured that the concept of the Russia Anxiety isn’t a reason to unilaterally excuse contentious policy actions of the Russian state, internationally or domestically.

One shortcoming of Smith’s book is that there is little attention paid to how mass media outlets,through film or news reporting, in the West or in Russia itself plugs in to each aspect of the cycle. For instance, in 2014, a Forbes article near hysterically compared Putin to Hitler for the annexation of Crimea, demonstrating Western fears of Russian military (Johnson, 2014), not to mention the alleged interference in the 2016 US elections. For contempt, Western reporting on Russia, such as reporting on the anti-gay propaganda laws serves to denigrate Russians as necessarily backward to liberal westerners feel superior about themselves (Wiedlack, 2017). Anecdotally, based on reporting I’ve seen in commercial news programs in Australia, any news from Russia, with the exception of the FIFA World Cup in 2018 has a tendency to be framed negatively regardless of the situation. The inclusion of this kind of analysis in more detail, while veering off from the broadly historical methodology, would have been a good fit for the subject matter of the book, be especially helpful to non-experts and flesh out the core concept better.

A secondary concept, dubbed ‘instant history’ is something that is quite handy and useful in contexts outside of prejudiced attitudes towards Russian politics. An example of instant history presented by Smith would be tendencies among some historians to say, draw a straight line between Ivan the Terrible’s oprichina and the NKVD during the Great Terror period. The danger of instant history is that while the facts it draws from might be true, the links between them are often tenuous, misleading and are evidence of lazy analysis. Instant history as utilised in the context of Russian history is like taking a small number of outliers in a data cluster and using that as evidence of general trends. It can become even messier if framed in a form of path dependence, since the path would have shaky foundations and would undermine its own analysis.

Films like Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Red Dawn or even Hard to Be a God would have been useful and relatable and useful examples to help demonstrate and flesh out how media outlets plug into this cycle.

In the chapter The Dictatorship Deception, Smith tackles the issue of democracy in Russia and why it seems to have not been entrenched in the same way as has been experienced in the Anglosphere and Western Europe. The Speransky Conundrum, one of Smith’s novel terminologies, is essentially the problem of making democracy and autocracy safe for each other, or in other worlds, resolving a dialectical contradiction. Smith goes on to discuss Russia the Muscovite and Novgorodian foundations that provide a viable basis for democracy in the country or the zemstvos and volosts established in the 19^th century, the experience of ‘Soviet democracy’ which, while in effect just a pantomime given the obvious lack of choice, still provided a useful feedback mechanism for Soviet elites. He also discusses the experience of the Soviet collapse in the 1990s, which basically disillusioned much of the country to liberal democracy and the ravages of predatory capitalist excess backed by Americans. The fundamental argument from this chapter is the importance of contingency in historical events, an important point throughout the book, and how if forms of autocracy are the innate possibility of the Russian state, then something that is recognizably democratic is also possible. However, while the point is clear and the constellation of facts used to make it sound, the limitations of Smith’s analytical framework are apparent as they lack some broader considerations of sociology, international relations theories or structural analysis.

 

The next chapter revolves around Russia’s supposedly unique backwardness and barbarism in relation to political violence. Specifically, it focuses on Ivan the Terrible’s oprichina and Stalinist rule, specifically the Great Terror and the gulags. What is generally given little word count is Lenin and Trotsky’s laying the foundations of Terror and oppression during the civil war (Solzhenitsyn, 2007). Nevertheless, there are a few salient points to this chapter. First is that the kinds of violence experienced under Ivan the Terrible and his Oprichina, and with Stalin and the NVKD is that they are extreme outliers in the broad sweep of recorded Russian history. The second point is that the violence under Stalinist rule, whether that be the brutality of breakneck industrialization, the Holodomor or the Great Terror do not come out of some innate and fundamental Russian barbarism, but are the results primarily of Stalin’s personality, style of rule and Bolshevik political culture. The third main point utilises some comparative analysis with Tudor England and contemporary Muscovite rule for instance, demonstrates that for much of Russia’s history, the country’s rulers have acted within normal European parameters; a similar point which drives subsequent chapters as well. This is one way, Smith hopes, to deflate the Anxiety as it puts Russian state actions, historically and in the present, in a broader perspective that necessitates critical self-reflection. Smith anticipates multiple times that this point would be subject to accusations of whataboutism, but such accusations would be wasted as the point is not to deflect from or excuse certain policy criticism, it is simply intended to deflate unwarranted prejudice. The subtitle of this chapter asks if Russia is built on violence and the answer is in short, yes, but in a similar way to how European states, and indeed most states, generally are.

Stalin in historical memory functions in a complex way for both Russians and Westerners, eliciting various emotions depending on who you talk to, and is often used as a proxy for pro and anti-Russian feeling.

Later chapters deal principally with Russia’s European and Eurasian identity, largely through looking at Russian literature and cases of avant garde artists, with some wordcount dedicated to Eurasianism and providing insight into the ways ‘Eastern’ and ‘Western’ Europe have been categorised, first through the lens of Christendom and schism, and then through the Cold War lens, which persists today. Another looks at Russia’s imperial heritage using a similar format to the chapter on state political violence, offering insight into Russo-Ukrainian relations and management of difference. Another deals with whether Russia is uniquely warlike or prone to invading other states. The short answer is no and that Russia has mostly been the victim of invasion by others, whether it be the Mongols, Napoleon or Hitler. He also engages critically with the work of Richard Pipes, who is probably one of the most influential Cold Warrior historians of Russia, especially given his political postings. While I cannot go exhaustively into every argument made in the book, these chapters are frequently insightful, well structured and decently written despite a few odd idiosyncrasies.

The final chapters, dealing with historical memory and the Khrushchev Thaw are fantastic, especially for me as it satisfyingly answers the perplexing overall positive attitude Russians seem to have for Stalin that comes out of independent polling results. It also effectively addresses the complexity of dealing with traumatic historical memory and helps understand how people dealt with it in the immediate aftermath of Stalin’s death, often utilising cases of exile playwrights and authors. Soviet science fiction, such as Hard to Be A God would have also been a good example as the substance is effectively Khrushchev’s Secret Speech.

To conclude this review, I will say this about Mark Smith’s book: it is frequently insightful, well structured and does a good job of framing Russian history in a way that counters typical views of Russophobic politicians, media pundits and historians (I’m looking at you, Richard Pipes) in a way that is convincing and cuts through all the sensationalism and romanticism, despite the limited methodology and a few other shortcoming. As to whether it achieves its goal of being an antidote to the Russia Anxiety remains to be seen. If you have any friends with the typical anti-Russian prejudices, put the book in their hands, see what they say. Furthermore, this book would be very useful for any teachers of any aspect of Russian history, or Cold War and contemporary politics, especially in discussions revolving around historiography and historical memory.
References

JOHNSON, P. 2014. Is Vladimir Putin Another Adolf Hitler? [Online]. Forbes. Available: https://www.forbes.com/sites/currentevents/2014/04/16/is-vladimir-putin-another-adolf-hitler/#43fe9e2f237a [Accessed].

SMITH, M. 2019. The Russia Anxiety-And How History Can Resolve It, London, UK, Allen Lane.

SOLZHENITSYN, A. 2007. The Gulag Archipelago: Abridged Edition, United States, Harper Perennial Modern Classics.

WIEDLACK, K. M. 2017. Gays vs Russia: Media Representations, Vulnerable Bodies and the Construction of a (Post)modern West. European Journal of English Studies, 21, 241-257.

 

Ethnos and Society Review

Author: Alexander Dugin
Publisher: Arktos Media Ltd, 2018
Available in: Paperback, Hardback, ebook

What is Ethnosociology? In most classes and international relations, and fields that heavily utilise the insights generated by sociology, typically use sociologies derived from the likes of Marx, Weber, Giddens and so on. These sociologies are often centred around contemporary industrial and post-industrial, typically Western, societies. Ethnosociology takes a different approach that includes the insights of anthropology, enabling theorists and researchers to utilise sociological models that don’t take contemporary industrial and post-industrial Western societies as the given baseline for analysis. However, this approach is little known in English-speaking academia. In Ethnos and Society (Dugin, 2018), notorious Russian philosopher Alexander Dugin presents his own ethnosociological model that is robust,incredibly fascinating in spite of losing steam and originality towards the end.

The first thing you will notice when starting this monograph is that it throws a lot of unfamiliar terminology at you to start, such as ethnostatics, ethnodynamics and ethnokinetics and ethnocentrum. At the beginning, orienting yourself is quite dizzying if you are unfamiliar with the ethnosociological approach, but thankfully, these concepts and their essential phenomenological foundational concepts are well explained. As the book goes on, and once it has made you comfortable in understanding the essential concepts, it flows naturally, and theoretical concepts link together in a coherent system. Nevertheless, an introduction that goes into more detail about the history of ethnosociological approaches and general critiques of more common sociological approaches would have been much appreciated in easing readers in. It is only in the final sections of the text where we get Dugin’s explanation of what makes ethnosociology novel and important.

For Dugin, there are four principal forms of society. The first is the ethnos, which is a kind of primordial, fundamental and ‘pre-historic’ form of society which is often characterised by minimal social and ontological differentiation, an immanence of everything and an inclusive structure of thought. It can be agrarian, nomadic or hunter-gatherer. This structure of thought combined with the basic normative beliefs of an ethnos constitutes ethnostatics. Meanwhile, ethnodynamics refers to the rituals, games and practices that an ethnos does to reject the ‘new’ that might be over the horizon and to reaffirm the ethnos as the ethnos, effectively preserving it as is. Essentially, ethnodynamics is the impulse of tradition or more precisely as it can be applied to all social forms, is the conscious and repetitive work that goes into preserving the status quo.

Finally for the ethnos is ethnokinetics, which is the process of social change that precipitates the transformation into the second social form, the narod. This precipitation is characterised by such changes as the taking of slaves, the formation of male military union, the accumulation of surplus and the conquest of one ethnos over multiple, the dominant typically being of the nomadic type that becomes settled after the conquest. Finally, the ethnocentrum splits and this traumatic experience gives rise to the perception of the Other and the passionary impulse, which in the narod is present in distinctions such as immanence versus transcendence.

In this second form, the narod,this is where according to Dugin most of human culture comes from, borne of the traumatic split of the ethnocentrism and a polyethnic unit. This gives rise to the passionary, heroic impulse that is characterised in the triad of state-religion-civilisation, which each narod possesses to different degrees. Examples are sketched out by Dugin in this section, such as the Babylonians, Romans, Islamic or Greeks, which to different degrees possessed these things, where the ideal individuals of hero, prophet and philosopher correspond to each piece of the triad. Linear conceptions of time also become the norm, which is made particularly clear in Greco-Roman mythology, with the imprisonment of primordial entities, such as Chronos, in Tartarus. Also characteristic of the narod is increased social stratification,exemplified in tripartite class hierarchies, or ‘estates’. This stratification is not just economic but also in terms of relation to the world as the heroic, passionary impulse in concentrated primarily in the elite, aristocratic classes whereas the ‘masses’, especially in rural and peripheral regions, tend to be more like the ethnos, but not quite the same.

When I paused to think about this model and apply it to say, the Nordic dark age and subsequent Viking age, a case which is not mentioned at all by Dugin, I found that Dugin’s model is fairly generalisable. Although not able to account for every nuance, it could account for many that I could think of, making the two fundamental social types in Dugin’s model as a good analytic and narrative framework for the histories of ancient and medieval societies and for national general histories.

The third type, the nation, which is noted as principally a European phenomenon, takes another fundamental turn, characterised by such developments as language standardisation, the formation of political ideologies, such as liberalism, and the ascendance of the bourgeoisie in political life and their class dominance during industrialisation. Here, Dugin leans more heavily into the Marxist sociological tradition and other more familiar sociological territory. For Dugin, the nation, while claiming to be the successor to the narod, is merely a simulacrum as the passionary impulse starts to wane and transmute into economic competition. States become organised primarily on rational, economic grounds that also erode polyglossia and diverse regional cultures as a ‘national culture’ forms, in which urban centres project and impose its values throughout the provinces. The experiences of early Industrial Age England and Revolutionary France is what Dugin is alluding to here. Furthermore, the nature of classes changes as ownership over the means of production become a more prominent issue and society is dichotomised into proletariat and bourgeoisie.

According to Dugin, in the proletariat is the remnant of the peasant, which is exemplified by the culture of proletarianized peasants in late Imperial and early Soviet Russia (Figes, 2017). Various models of nationalism are described by Dugin that have varying radicalism and socialist modernity is briefly mentioned as a special case, although with little detail. Socialist modernity in my view, at least based on the Soviet model imposed in Eastern Europe, follows the same basic structure as the nationalist project, just predicated on a different political theory and ‘rational’ economic model. The principal models of nationalism here are conservative or radical nationalism (‘big Nationalism’), autonomy and separatism (‘small nationalism’), irredentism and colonialism, all which Dugin explains clearly and provides easy to understand examples.

The final social form for Dugin is the civil/global society, which Dugin leans further into deference of conventional sociology, offering little original apart from stating that the characteristics of civil society are contained in the nation, but are constrained. Civil society here is best considered in the context of Soviet collapse to the present day, inclusive of all the technological developments, such as internet, especially in liberal societies. Much of the section on civil and global society are reframed versions of critiques of liberalism and communism that were more powerfully presented in The Fourth Political Theory (Dugin, 2012).

At one point in Ethnos and Society, Dugin claims that these sociological models aren’t meant to be seen as necessarily better or worse than one another, but to anyone who is familiar with Dugin’s other work, it is clear that the traditional societies embodied in the narod and its elite will to power is his ideal model, whereas the contemporary civil society has the air of Nietzsche’s last man and entropic liberal dystopia. The nation for Dugin is inferior to the narod, but better than civil society as at least in nation states, there is still a semblance of collective identity, whereas in civil society, this is rejected and increasingly voluntary. Another characteristic difference between the nation and civil society briefly mentioned by Dugin is that the bourgeoisie increasingly reject the nation since it starts to hinder their class interests, and thus they kick the nation away like a ladder.

One of the weaknesses of Ethnos and Society is that its examples and case studies are briefly presented, only sketched out, which makes the demonstration of the theoretical viability of Dugin’s ethnosociological framework a little more difficult to be convincing. Engagement with biological, racial and cognitive theories or data (beyond phenomenology, at least) is not present either, which lessens its potential for broad scientific validity, but the upshot of this omission is that it helps retain the generalisability of the theory.

This model is insightful for historians, but also students and scholars of international relations as this theoretical framework might be effectively utilised in trying to figure out the best approach for governance in periphery countries, especially remote and frontier regions. It can also provide helpful frameworks in having clearer understandings of why policies of migrant integration policies in European countries have little success. Finally, by using the ‘simple to explain the complex’ we gain a richer understanding of all the different types of society that has existed and that  we presently coexist with. While Ethnos and Society occasionally lacks nuance, it is frequently insightful, has compelling core concepts, mostly strong and easy to follow explanations, is potentially highly generalisable and is very easy to follow before too long. Ethnos and Society is a fascinating read and comes highly recommended for historians and anyone in the social sciences.

4/5

 

References

DUGIN, A. 2012. The Fourth Political Theory, London, United Kingdom, Arktos Media Ltd.

DUGIN, A. 2018. Ethnos and Society, London, UK, Arktos Media.

FIGES, O. 2017. A People’s Tragedy: The Russian Revolution 100th Anniversary Edition, London, The Bodley Head.

The Lighthouse review–HARK

After much waiting, Robert Egger’s sophomore film, The Lighthouse has finally released in Australia. Taking place in a rather non descript island presumably somewhere off the coast of the United States, focusing on a lighthouse keeper, Thomas (Willem DeFoe) and his assistant, Winslow (Robert Pattinson), and their descent into madness during a longer than expected rotation keeping the lighthouse.

The most immediately noticeable cinematographic choices in the film is the black and white visuals combined with the odd 1:19:1 aspect ratio. These artistic choices pay off tremendously, delivering a strikingly immersive quality to the film, combined with tight framing and blocking that keeps every scene hyperfocused on its subject. Combined with the vintage lenses and 35mm film that it was shot with, effectively transporting you back in time as if the film was an old classic that had been somehow lost to time and recently restored. The soundscape also does a tremendous job of drawing you into the atmosphere, with a rather minimalist approach of little music, but ever present field recorded sounds such as the cawing of gulls, wind or rain and dread inducing foghorn that makes itself known at regular intervals.

The performances of DeFoe and Pattinson are absolutely stellar, not only convincingly presenting the descent into alcoholism and madness, but also a complex, uneasy relationship between boss and subordinate that features camaraderie, rivalry and tinges of homoeroticism. Dialogue is also superb, with period-accurate accents and an oft literary style reminiscent of 19^th century classics.

 Narratively, the film follows a rather simple cabin fever premise, with both characters becoming more drunk and insane as time goes on. One of the central mysteries of the film is what is so special about the light in the lighthouse, as Thomas forbids Winslow from managing it at night. However, there is a distinct mythical, folkloric and Lovecraftian quality to the film that creates an ever present dread that was skilfully executed in Eggers’ debut The Witch , except here it is heightened in different and more abstract, absurd ways  Eggers also deftly switches between moments of dread and absurd, almost surreal and discomforting comedy, sometimes in the same sequence, such as a montage involving mermaids and masturbation. The ability to successfully combine these polar tonal characteristics are reminiscent of some of David Lynch’s best work.

With The Lighthouse, Robert Eggers has been able to solidify himself as one of the best and most refreshing new American filmmakers. The Lighthouse is a delightful watch that is parts hilarious and absurd, but also terrifying, wrapped in an immersive vintage aesthetic. It is an instant arthouse classic and well worth seeing however you can access it.

10/10

Star Wars: Jedi Fallen Order review–A new hope for Star Wars video games

Reviewed on PC

The last couple years have been rough for Star Wars video game fans, starting back all the way when Disney had their exclusivity contract with the evil empire EA to produce Star Wars games. The first was the new Battlefront, rushed out to be in time for The Force Awakens in 2015 and then Battlefront 2 a few years later, whose scandalous lootboxes did much to damage the Star Wars brand, along with the divisiveness of the cinematic release of The Last Jedi and the near-flop of Solo. But now comes Jedi: Fallen Order, a single player action adventure developed by the brilliant Respawn Entertainment, a new hope for star wars video games in the post-Lucas era is born.

Taking place five years after Order 66, you play as Cal Kestis (Cameron Monaghan), a former Jedi padawan whose training was incomplete and is now hiding out on the industrial planet of Bracca as a scrapper. After an industrial accident and a run in with Imperial Inquisitors, Cal soon meets Cere Junda (Debrah Wilson), a former Jedi Knight herself and her lovable four armed ship Captain, Greez (Daniel Roebuck), on a quest to recover the holocron, an item that will help them rebuild the Jedi order, while being followed by a detachment of the Imperial Inquisition, headed by the menacing Second Sister. An explosive moving train ride after this opens Fallen Order with a bang and the pace of the game continues expertly throughout.

On the first planet, a marsh-like place named Bogano, you encounter BD-1, a droid companion who is wonderfully expressive and the worlds most helpful robot puppy. Not all characters are as cute, but the core cast, and even those who voiced stormtroopers give fantastic vocal performance. Cameron Monaghan’s performance as Cal Kestis is a standout, since he takes a character that is otherwise bland and turns him into a likeable hero that grows into someone who is more self assured, confident and understanding by the time the story concludes. While the premise is inherently fatalistic, the storyline is nevertheless presented at a near perfect pace (although I would have liked to seen a little more before the finale to build up Cal’s and Merrin’s relationship a little more). The feeling of excitement and adventure continues throughout the story, even upon revisiting planets and discovering new areas all the way to its conclusion that is satisfying and still makes you excited for the next adventure.

As far as the game plays, the easiest way to describe it is a mix of the recent Tomb Raider games and Sekiro. The lightsabre combat and death mechanics are the most similar to the soulsbourne games, whereas world traversal,set pieces and puzzles are more like Tomb Raider. However, while the puzzles are intuitive, they are far too easy most of the time. The souls-like combat, which most readers will likely be familiar with, feels brilliant here and works seamlessly with the more grounded style of lightsabre fights established by the original and new trilogy, as well as with a Jedi apprentice re-learning the ways of the Force. I played on the second hardest difficulty and found this to be a healthy challenge that made enemies into genuine threats, unless they were the stock standard stormtroopers, keeping most encounters tense, requiring focused and skilful play. Accompanying the lightsabre combat are three main force abilities, force push, slow and pull which are doled out at a conservative pace. There is also a nice amount of exploration that typically rewards you with new outfit skins or parts to personalise the look of your lightsabre, in addition to spots that upgrade how many healing items you have or your max health and mana. The lightsabre customisation is admittedly superfluous since you rarely see it in detail and they provide no tangible gameplay bonuses. Nevertheless, finding them is fun and the customisation, while not as robust as what we might be used to in fashionsouls, adds that little bit extra feeling of personal investment in the world and characters.

Controls are responsive and in a nice touch, the PC version natively supports PS4 controllers and the relevant button icons on the interface, which is a nice touch that few PC versions of console games do.

As great as the game plays, it has tremendous visuals and sound to match. Of course the sound is authentically Star Wars, from the buzzing of lightsabers, or the pew pew of blasters and even the wonderful John Williams inspired score that throws in flourishes of its own, such as including a track of blood pumping Mongolian throat singing. Whether you’re exploring the marshes of Bogano, climbing the origin tree on Kashyyk against a background of creeping Imperial industrialization, exploring the tombs of a lost alien civilization or slicing through the Korriban-esque hellscape of Dathomir, Jedi: Fallen Order consistently impresses with its detailed and stunning visuals. Not only does it look great, but it performs excellently as well, with the game defaulting to max settings for my machine and performing consistently above 60fps with very few hitches throughout the 15+hour campaign.

Jedi: Fallen Order is a game we all thought wouldn’t happen under the helm of EA. Yet, here it is. It is a brilliant game that while being admittedly derivative, remains a fun, exciting adventure that oozes passion and helps to cement Respawn Entertainment as one of the premier studios currently working in the AAA space. This is the best Star Wars game in a very long time and it wonderfully captures what is enchanting about this almost half century old franchise. This is definitely the droid you have been looking for.

8.5/10

Death Stranding Review–Kojima Delivers

After years of much anticipation and strange trailers that regularly confounded gamers, Kojima has finally brought out his first post Konami, post metal gear game and with it, Kojima has delivered.

Speaking of Metal Gear Solid, it is remarkable that even with the engine change, a significant amount of Death Stranding feels much like MGSV despite the engine, in its menus, animations, the feel of the controls and the technical graphics. Despite the fact that most of the game is very unlike Metal Gear Solid V, this DNA of the series makes Kojima’s latest immediately accessible to those familiar with his previous titles.

Visually, Death Stranding is a sublime aesthetic experience. With its detailed, rugged terrain and post apocalyptic vision of America that features diverse biomes that range from looking like  the dramatic volcanic sand stricken coastlines of Iceland or another north Atlantic islet, to small wetlands, dry deserts, rusted, rocky and steaming ground that looks more like the surface of Mars than anything on earth, to snow capped mountains that make for striking vistas that in some parts remind me simultaneously of the Caucasian, Rocky and Drakensberg mountain ranges. This does not look like the America people know, which is in the firm Kojima tradition of taking creative liberties with his settings.  Setting forth on it feels like being a pioneer, a Manifest Destiny moving West on a new semi virginal frontier with the occasional reminder of pre-Stranding life, with abandoned vehicles or parts of wrecked cityscapes that evoke a sense of dread when approaching. At key times, music, which is usually from indie rock band Low Roar, elevates the feeling of traversing the difficult, dangerous, but also quiet and serene environment.  For the original score, Ludvig Forsell returns as composer and delivers wonderful music that works well with whatever is happening on screen, but also complements the licensed tracks.

These landscapes have immense detail at the macro and micro level and this is not just for show. As you may have seen, the primary objectives in Death Stranding consist in delivering packages from point A, to B and sometimes C. This is often a profoundly quiet and relaxing gameplay loop which is strangely satisfying although it would normally seem tedious, which is reminicisent of Lucas Pope’s paperwork sim, Papers, Please. In most open world games, travel between destinations is typically quite straightforward and considers of simply being on auto-pilot moving your stick forward or even just doing it for you (I’m looking at you, The Witcher 3 and Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey). Here, the detailed terrain in an integral feature of the game and navigation is the primary challenge, as too many wrong falls or being swept away in a strong current can cause you to lose or seriously damage not only your cargo, but also your equipment for the journey. Paying careful attention to the terrain, with the assistance of your scanner is integral to success.

This is also when the key online features of Death Stranding kick in, where players can leave signs, share equipment and leave structures that assist in making navigation and traversal a little more manageable. At times, I would sometimes provide lots of material to assist in rebuilding a road or leaving a ladder just because someone else might find it useful and I often found myself highly thankful for player-built structures as they helped me get to my destination faster and with less danger than I would otherwise.  Players reward each other with likes, which don’t really do anything tangible except make you feel good and act as a kind of high score. Nevertheless, this online functionality, which innovates and elevates  concepts pioneered by Demons’ Souls and Journey create a palpable feeling of community and solidarity with complete strangers. Also aiding your journey are item upgrades, such as exoskeletons or better shoes that make deliveries much more manageable, especially once you get snowshoes.

You don’t just walk and deliver packages in Death Stranding. There are some excellent scripted action sequences and simple, but effective boss fights interspersed throughout the game, as well as some light stealth sections, exemplified by crossing the BT fields or MULE camps. If you’re caught by BTs, you get a mini boss fight and if you’re caught by MULEs, you get into fights that are reminiscent of taking out outposts in MGSV. I did find it enjoyable at times to raid MULE camps for extra materials to help build roads or upgrade structures, but the combat is a bit on the easy side and is effectively a simplified version of MGSV combat and so not particularly deep, but since you don’t do much combat if you’re playing well, its serviceable. There are some neat ways of doing things, like using floating carriers to go Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater down slopes or to yeet handheld cargo at enemies to knock them out or pee on BTs to make them go away. I played the game on normal difficulty and I’m not sure if it was because I played quite well, but I was consistently getting S ranks on most deliveries, rarely dying (and never causing voidouts) and so on. For most players, I would recommend normal as the absolute lowest difficulty setting. Returning to controls as a brief aside, the only aspect that I felt controlled relatively poorly were vehicles as the have some quite awkward physics and collision detection.

So, with all that, what is Death Stranding about? The game focuses on the years after the Death Stranding, an apocalyptic event which lead to the leaking out of the world of the dead, through ‘beaches’ into ours and all sorts of other phenomena, like Timefall, which is basically FOXDIE through rain. As Sam Porter Bridges (Norman Reedus), you are tasked with connecting up the chiral network, a kind of internet that uses metaphysical phenomena associated with the Death Stranding, across America and to reconnect society so it can rebuild. Fundamentally, this game is about connection, which is seen through the online mechanics and throughout the narrative, although in an often heavy handed and sometimes cheesy fashion, filled with plenty of technobabble along the way.

The main plot reminded me most of Neon Genesis Evangelion and End of Evangelion, but to say too much more about the plot would be spoilers. However, despite the heavy handedness, Kojima presents a highly multilayered story, filled with his signature eccentricities. This is boosted by incredible performances from the main cast, which includes Norman Reedus, Lindsey Wagner, Troy Baker, Mads Mikkelsen, Lea Sydoux, Margaret Qualley and others that elevate the material. The pace of the game is quite slow,taking me almost 50 hours to get through the main story and side deliveries here and there. Death Stranding is in no rush to get you through its story, letting you soak everything in, with the pace building up in the final third. Patience pays dividends here, with some truly thrilling action segments in this portion of the game. Pacing overall is excellent.

One niggling thought about Death Stranding is its ability to be preserved given the integral nature of its online modes. What happens when the servers shut down? We don’t know and this also ties into the themes of the game. Nevertheless, in the here and now, Kojima has delivered a memorable game, engrossing narrative and sublime aesthetic experience, which is more than the sum of its parts. Death Stranding is a game that reinvents and elevates the open world style of game, with talent and passion oozing out of every aspect of it, furthering demonstrating the talent of the development team and Kojima’s genius as an auteur. Death Stranding is an absolute must play.

9.5/10

Detroit: Become Human review

Available on: PS4 (available as the PS+ monthly game at time of this review’s publication)

Set in a future not too distant from our own, Detroit: Become Human presents a world not too distant from our own, a futuristic neoliberal nightmare where full automation is effectively become a reality through mechanical androids  and Andrew Yang didn’t become president.  Quantic Dream’s latest title is in the same vain as it’s previous efforts, Beyond: Two Souls and Heavy Rain, Detroit exceeds both of them as feeling the most cohesive effort yet. And most importantly, I found it to be incredibly absorbing.

The narrative, primary thematic concerns and world building is largely a pastiche of many different science fiction films and novels concerning androids and automation. It’s a little bit Blade Runner/Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, it’s a little bit Westworld, there’s a little bit of Deus Ex: Human Revolution,  there’s even parts that remind me of The Shawshank Redemption or Lethal Weapon. However, these aren’t references for the sake of references, they buttress the core elements of the narrative and make it more accessible.

The narrative in Detroit: Become Human focuses on three playable android protagonists: Connor, a detective and prototype model whose mission is to figure out the problem with ‘deviant’ androids and is the first character we play as, in an enthralling hostage negotiation sequence in the prologue. It is here that we learn some of the basic elements of the game, which should be rather familiar to anyone whose played a Quantic Dream game in the last decade or any of Telltale’s major hits. Connor is soon paired with Hank, his human police partner who dislikes androids and a significant part of Connor’s storyline involves their relationship and Hank’s shifting attitudes towards androids through their investigation.

The second playable character, Kara, is a domestic servant android whose main motivation comes from the sudden development of maternal instincts when witnessing child abuse. This particular early game sequence proved to be a controversial one around the time of the game’s release that thought it was “exploitative” and that the makers “should feel ashamed of themselves.” These people are idiots, since this is an incredibly intense, compelling and above all, moving sequence that was effective in making me emotionally invested in these characters.

The third playable character is Markus, a soft spoken android who is a butler/caretaker for a wealthy old wheelchair bound artist. Complications ensue and he is almost destroyed and thrown into a junkyard, which is a terrifying sequence that looks like a metallic and plastic hell scape, a veritable no mans land with the corpses of machine parts. Markus then repairs himself and his character arc involves him becoming a mishmash of civil rights leader, revolutionary and so on. Depending on what decisions you make, he basically becomes a combination of Morpheus from The Matrix, with a little bit of Martin Luther King Jr and Malcom X. It’s use of racism as analogy is far less clumsy than the ‘mechanical apartheid’ of Deus Ex: Mankind Divided. In my playthrough, Markus became a reluctant revolutionary leader as his attempts at peaceful reform failed and his android rebellion movement degenerated into a violent slave rebellion that gets shoah’d.

It is through this narrative arc  (although not exclusively) that the game’s use of the American experience of slavery and the civil rights era as analogy is at its most heavy handed and about as subtle as a brick to the face. However, the game is not making any statements about those things, but it using them as a storytelling framework in how to think about the problems revolving around potential android self awareness, free will and the hard problem of consciousness.  However, while these concerns were in mind while playing, I found myself most invested in the particular character arcs and the more dramatic and emotional elements as these took precedence.

Another aspect I appreciated was a somewhat darkly satirical worldbuilding, largely achieved through news broadcasts in the background, the various settings that are mostly very gritty and urban and flavour text in the form of readable magazine articles, that talk about things like Russian and American disputes in the Arctic, which is not terribly far-fetched. Or how most people believe sex with androids is better than sex with humans, how there are many extinct species there are and how “more real than real” versions are replacing them in zoos.  These act as the collectibles in the game and they are short but incredibly well written flavour text that is worth reading as it adds to the overall experience.

What really helps this all work is an incredible presentation. The visuals and character models are top notch, as it to be expected from a Quantic Dream game, along with tremendous character animations and the environments of this near futuristic Detroit and its surroundings, from the apartment in the prologue to the shabby dilapidated suburbs or the neon soaked interior of the android brothel, the Eden Club, are all consistently stunning and visually interesting locales that present a realistic, believable and highly cohesive aesthetic. It has some very creepy body horror-like visuals too, such as in the junkyard or Zlatko’s mansion. If there is one gripe I have with the visuals, it is that the aperture on its use of soft focus can be a little high during certain gameplay segments, obscuring visibility just a little too much.

As for the gameplay, well as I said earlier in this review, it plays a lot like Heavy Rain. You walk around rooms, searching for clues to advance the plot and figure out whats happening and you accomplish tasks through button prompts and quick time events, which in combat type situations are often very intense and very fast, so fast reflexes are a big advantage here. You can also pick dialogue choices and what you do has an impact on the plot, which is one of the reasons I have only spoken about the plot in generalities rather than specifics as it could be spoilers, but also your playthrough might take completely different turns than mine did. These are not all false or illusory choices either as there are quite a few significant choices that alter the course of the narrative, the overall tone and so forth. At the end of each chapter, the game shows you a flow chart of your decisions and how many possibilities there are, which is much appreciated and will be helpful on repeat playthroughs. Also, there aren’t any hyper complex button combination requirements, like in Heavy Rain’s finger amputation sequence. Additionally, the use of sixaxis motion prompts can be kind of annoying, but its not too bad.

To wrap this up, Detroit: Become Human was a pleasant surprise. I thought I was going into a silly David Cage game that was far too ambitious and ends up being silly and downright bizarre. Instead, I got an absorbing, compelling science fiction drama that felt cohesive and that I could get emotionally invested in. It also has an absolutely incredible visual presentation, both in its aesthetics and technical graphics. As far as this type of adventure game or ‘interactive storytelling’ genre is concerned, Detroit: Become Human is among the best of its kind.

Tales of Vesperia Definitive Edition Review

 

Aryan Women in Dandelion Fields

Available on PC, PS4, Xbox One, Nintendo Switch
Played on: PC

One of the most beloved Japanese role playing games of the previous generation has gracefully returned to us in the form of a definitive edition, which includes all DLC and content that was previously only available on the PS3 version that, for some reason, was originally a Japan only release. I am pleased to say that with this release, Tales of Vesperia, for the most part, has aged quite well.

Most strikingly are the visuals, which utilise a cel-shaded style for the characters, with relatively simple yet appropriately detailed environments that provide the game with a cohesive, unified aesthetic. While character models are relatively low detailed compared to more modern games or later entries in the series, they look excellent. The aforementioned environmental detail is excellent too, from the capital Zaphias, to Halure, the Heracles and guild city Dahngrest, every single area in the game has its own unique architecture and mood that allow for each area to have its own distinct feel, in spite of the overly simplistic level design that feels definitely antiquated, even by JRPG standards.

The storyline here concerns the class conscious Yuri Lowell, whose initial call to adventure and motivation stems from a desire to protect the people in the lower quarter and retrieve the ‘aque blastia’ (blastia in this game’s world are kind of conduits for magic that make things work, like regulation of irrigation and such).

Soon, Yuri finds himself escaping the imperial prison and finding a companion in the also escaping Princess Estelle, a sheltered,compassionate and naïve young woman. In Yuri’s quest, the scale naturally ramps up and so does the motley crew of characters in the party increase, from a stubborn, highly intelligent mage in Rita, the ambitious young boy Karol who wants to be like his idols, Patty the amnesiac pirate who is very attracted to Yuri and occasionally Flynn, who is the ying to Yuri’s yang whose character alignment would be lawful good to Yuri’s chaotic good. These are not the only party members in the game, which amount to about 8 in total, each have their own unique personalities and motivations, with all of them endearing in their own way.  The character dynamics have some understated romantic elements and sexual tension, but one failing is that it is never relieved with nary a hug or kiss and is left entirely in the realm of suggestiveness.

While the plot eventually becomes a standard save-the-world type fare filled with anime tropes and a catalyst for the catastrophe can be reasonably interpreted as analogous to contemporary concerns over climate change and energy technologies. What holds the story together and keeps it compelling is the chemistry between the characters, which is aided by strong voice acting and through optional ‘skits’ that flesh out the character dynamics. Additionally, the plot isn’t shy from tackling darker themes and putting moral pressure on its heroes in a way that is not excessive or done for its own sake.

The biggest issue for the plot in Tales of Vesperia is the pacing, which, even though the game is 30-40 hours long, makes it feel longer given the regular interruptions or repetitive scenes of Estelle reaffirming her desire to stay in the party as if the game doesn’t want to freak you out with the possibility of not being able to have a healer in the group.

It also doesn’t help that the overworld is merely a connective tissue along the critical path and any substantial exploration doesn’t exist except for the purposes of finding crafting materials here and there. Gameplay is similarly repetitive, as when you’re not in combat, it is essentially running to the next cutscene or purchasing items and dungeon puzzles are generally rather simplistic, but their presence is appreciated.

Combat itself is real time, which at the time of original release was somewhat unique for the genre. Here you tap B for normal hits and can hotkey special attacks to A or directional inputs on the right and left stick, which is then added to with over limits, burst arts and chain attacks which reward good timing and paying attention. X is to block. If you want some more variety, you can play as other characters instead of Yuri, but the basics remain the same. There is some depth here for those who would like to dig in to it, but you can get away with mostly button mashing and having enough recovery items. Furthermore, combat also feels somewhat stiff, especially when trying to hit high combo counts, as transitioning from a block to an artes or normal attack feels rigid in spite of silky smooth 144fps. Nevertheless, it is still a fun little button masher. Combat animations are also quite excellent, yet animations during dialogue sequences and in-engine cutscenes can seem rather rigid, which limits possibilities of even more fleshed out expressive of and between characters.

If you like JRPGs or are after a little bit of a nostalgia trip, Tales of Vesperia: Definitive Edition manages to stand the test of time, with its comfy vibes, competent but largely simplistic combat pleasing, cohesive aesthetic and excellent characters that allow it to overcome a somewhat padded narrative, inefficient pacing and dated design elements.