Posts Tagged ‘ Hideo Kojima ’

Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater – “One-Eyed Jack”

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From the title screen to the final credits, you can feel “Snake Eater” is Kojima’s land: the virtuous cut-scene directing, the stylized visuals, the characters with their brooding voices and dramatic performances, the crazy twisted plot scheme filled with glorified heroes and villains and sub-texts and outrageously overlong dialogs – Kojima always knew how to put on a show, and with each new game and improved technology he kept amping up his showmanship. However, the third title in the “Metal Gear” saga is a return to origins, both in chronology and thematic: the game takes place during the 1960’s, amidst the cold war scenario, with the protagonist being, for the first time, Big Boss. At the start of the action he’s dropped into an untamed jungle, with only a knife to survive, the tropical heat to endure, the ferocious animals to hunt for food and an entire army to do battle with – like in the first “Metal Gear”, the sense of a modern “Rambo” re-envisioning is pervasive through and through.

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Kojima follows this premise of the lone soldier in an hostile environment with absolute clarity: never has stealth made more sense than in “Snake Eater”, as the dense foliage and tree-lines serve as the perfect habitat for an invisible assassin. You really have to play the part of the cautious, ever-planning killer: slowly crawling by unseen, assessing the surroundings with your senses, peering the jungle with its lush greens, dark browns and all-encompassing blinding hot sunlight, listening to the chirping birds and croaking frogs and streaming creeks, until you can hear the faint sound of the steps of a soldier trampling the vegetation, and then you wait and wait and wait some more, until he passes by you while you’re hiding in the grass completely camouflaged and you finally strike death upon him, swiftly and silently, so that nature remains unturned and unsettled. It’s in these moments of pure stealth that “Metal Gear Solid 3” clicks and resembles Kojima’s masterpiece. The bosses, after the debacle of “Sons of Liberty”, also show a return to good form, with some memorable battles: the sniper duel with the End being the blossoming of the potential of the original battle with Sniper Wolf, and the confrontation with Sorrow showing off Kojima in his most enigmatic and allegorical, pitting Big Boss against an already dead enemy.

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There are many reasons to adore “Metal Gear Solid 3”, which is why it becomes so troubling to understand exactly who is the man behind the game. Kojima is capable of so much, yet wastes all that creativity and effort with his petty idiosyncrasies. There’s the toilet humor, the cartoonish hyperboles, the self-indulgent 60’s pop references and the constant playing with “Metal Gear” cannon – all of these compromising the depth of  the characters and storyline. But where Kojima’s excesses become simply unacceptable is in the game-play. For the player to have access to all those cool, but insignificant, gadget-y details Kojima puts in his games, every little button in the control pad has a dozen of different uses, making the control scheme a maximalist mess. Add an overview camera that is ill-fitted for the new setting and you have a number of issues that will constantly break up immersion. It becomes obvious that Kojima’s crew never thought of re-designing the original “MGS” style of game-play, and just kept adding stuff as they went by, to the point it became nigh unplayable. Simplification and streamlining would have done wonders for “Snake Eater”, as the later “Subsistence” and “Guns of the Patriots” would show.

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“Snake Eater” certainly has a more mature set of characters, and emotionally evocative storyline than its direct predecessor, which is why if it were not for Kojima’s obnoxious eccentricities, it might very well have been the rightful successor to the original “Metal Gear Solid”. But the truly infuriating thing is how its insignificant flaws can obfuscate the game’s grandiosity when it strikes that rare chord of pure bliss. Flaws that could have easily been removed, but remain as nagging reminders of Kojima’s unflinching desire to be cool and witty. Which is why Kojima needs an editing eye, something which he must surely have had many years ago, but now seems to have lost, like his protagonists, during some imaginary war with his ego. And until he learns that less is more, he will remain blind.

score: 4/5

Snatcher – “Childish Fiction”

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Back in the 80’s, games couldn’t stand further from cinema; while film had already achieved its pinnacle as an art form, the state of the art for the video-game realm was embodied in the likes of Miyamoto’s “Legend of Zelda” or “Super Mario Bros.”. Good games not withstanding, these works were meant for young kids and teenagers, their cultural and artistic value being relatively small, if at all existent. It was then expected that video-game developers would turn, sooner or later, to cinema as a way of finding inspiration for video-games. The first steps in that direction were given in the late 80’s; amongst those early visionaries was Hideo Kojima.

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“Metal Gear” (1987) was Kojima’s first video-game, an ode to Hollywood pop references of  the 80’s, with “Rambo” serving as a major inspiration, but also borrowing elements from “Escape from New York” or “Terminator”. “Snatcher” was its followup, but then, Kojima chose to pay an hômage to one of the greatest movies of all times – “Blade Runner“. It’s impossible not to think  too much about it, as every element in “Snatcher” seems to derive at some level, from Ridley Scott’s masterpiece: from the dark cyber-punk depiction of the future, to the ever-looming menace of a race of killer cyborgs (though in “Snatcher” they resemble more closely Cameron’s “Terminators” than the actual replicants), down to main characters’ personalities and visual characterization.

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As an unofficial interactive translation to “Blade Runner”, “Snatcher” is a success. The player embarks on a noir mystery, searching for clues regarding the main character’s past, while simultaneously hunting down killer robots that mask themselves as humans. Despite the game being incredibly linear, there seems to have been a great effort in making players feel like a true Private Investigator, by making them solve clever criminal puzzles, through the discovery of each piece of evidence and its consequent interpretation. And though, in essence, the game plays like a simple text adventure game, it makes excellent use of its sparse aesthetic elements, using simple animations as a form of emulating film, and upping the tempo with well placed sound effects and music, which can heighten the sense of discovery of a particular clue or anticipate a nearby plot-twist. There are also a few  shooting sequences to punctuate the investigation; these add a much needed surprise factor to whenever a cyborg is found, further enhancing tension while the player is investigating clues.

It is obvious that “Snatcher” goes as far as the medium could go at the time it was designed. Kojima creates his own devious world filled with his trademark post modern humor, and all these little references to Hollywood cinematography, but he never ceases to impregnate it with a consistency and level of detail that simply doesn’t exist in most games today, let alone those from twenty years ago. He also does a thorough background search on the scientific, social and political themes that he then molds and solidifies into an arresting thriller, filled with intrigue and drama. Like all of Kojima’s games, “Snatcher” elevates the writing quality of the means, in a search for the narrative depth that we grew accustomed to in cinema.

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And yet, one can only get a bitter taste when Kojima so often invites a comparison between his video-games and the 7th art; a comparison to which all his games fall on the short end of. “Snatcher’s” aesthetic, while clearly inspired by the noir-ish ambiance of the movie, features warm color palettes [more prevalent in the later versions than in the less detailed, yet more consistent, MSX original] and an upbeat electro-jazz soundtrack, which clash severely with the gloomy dystopian mood. Kojima’s writing, though light-years ahead of his peers, is polluted with Anime tropes and immature sexual jokes that can only be seen as childish, especially when compared to the somber nature of “Blade Runner’s” drama. Not to mention that the most important story layer of “Blade Runner” – Philip K. Dick’s own existential dilemmas – is completely absent from the video-game; in exchange, we get a story about an egomaniacal soviet scientist who wants to take over the world. In film, we get a powerful existentialist science fiction drama, but in the video-game version, we get a Saturday morning Japanese cartoon… sadly, it’s the story of our means.

score: 4/5

Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots – “This is the end…”

And so it ends. Exactly 10 years after “Metal Gear Solid” debuted on the Playstation, Kojima puts an end to his most beloved saga with “MGS4: Guns of The Patriots”. What to expect from the final chapter on such a riveting saga: a glorious goodbye or a cynic “see you soon”?

The game splits in 5 acts (plus prologue and epilogue); 5 acts, as defined in classical drama: each posing as a logical narrative unit, with beginning and end, occurring in different places in time and space, and in this case, with a different art and gameplay style. Each act tends to echo a different MGS, which adds a sense of closure and nostalgia to the saga, placing the player in different emotional states that connect with past experiences. Overall, the game plays like an evolved MGS3, with smoother controls, a decent camera angle that facilitates both combat and stealth, and with a lot more action sequences. Stealth is still key, and the game entices you to use it, while at the same time, refrains from penalizing you when you don’t. The first 2 acts are the most interesting gameplay-wise, as they put the player in the midst of a war, allowing you to either take advantage of it, sneaking by unseen and unheard while the 2 sides fight each other, or to simply join a side and start waging combat with your newly found war buddies. Everything works well, adding to the sense of a real war, and the levels are designed in a more streamlined way, that favors of a more slick and linear experience, thus simplifying the somewhat cumbersome nature of MGS3’s mechanics. The only letdown lies in the game’s bosses, that mirror almost precisely those of the first MGS. They’re uninteresting, shallow replicas that are never embodied as fully developed characters and their battles rely too much on straight forward shooting, lacking the brilliant, twisted mechanics of MGS1and 3’s bosses (Psycho Mantis, The End, etc…).

But let’s face it, the only reason for playing “MGS” is the story, all else falls secondary. It’s what has guaranteed the saga’s place in the hall of greatest videogames in history. This is thanks to its unique blend of traditional Hollywood action blockbusters’ spirit, ripe with plot twists and over the top cinematics, with its anime-like aesthethic (courtesy of Yoji Shinkawa), and a lot of philosophical/socio-political ramblings to please the more intellectual players. Still, the premise in MGS4, to wrap things up once and for all, ending the gigantic plot conundrum of “Sons of Liberty”, always sounded overly ambitious and very hard to achieve. There was just so much left to unveil: the true identity of the patriots, their relationship with Liquid, Solidus and Ocelot, the meaning behind the whole back story of MGS3, and even the ultimate purpose of the actions of the player throughout the series – what was Solid Snake really fighting for? Let me reassure you that Hideo Kojima answers this questions with the style and grace we’ve come to know him for. Yet, he does this in subservient fashion, as a slave to a greedy mob, trying at all costs to wrap things up in a tidy, simple, pleasant way that won’t upset any fans. Every character, regardless of its importance (or lack thereof), makes a comeback, all with their complete storyarchs, but zero risks are taken, and every petty, insignificant detail is fleshed out explicitly; a remembrance of what George Lucas tried to accomplish in the second “Star Wars” trilogy. It’s a shame, because players have imagination and intellect to fill in gaps, and should be more often greeted to do so, specially when it’s obvious that Kojima has the ability to make you think about important matters in subtler, nuanced ways. In the end, the pleasing fan-game ends up shattering most of the mystery in Kojima’s insanely mad world, in similar fashion to a magician who reveals his tricks in the end of his act, transforming wondrous, mystical magic into a form of elegant trickery. Because that’s what remains in the end, a sense of deceit, as you learn that Kojima, as a lying Hitchcock, has tricked you once again into believing a strain of lies which he now unveils. But if some are riveting and change the way you view certain characters and even past events (begging you to play previous entries one last time), some just feel cheap and idiotic, showing lack of premeditated thought. Of course, all these twists result in a series of plot holes, that range from the insignificant to the blatantly obvious, adding to the unwelcome sense of malicious deceit that settles in. In “Guns of the Patriots”, even dead characters make a comeback from the dead to please the fans… Sure, if you’re a big fan of “Metal Gear”, you’ll probably dismiss this, as you’ll be engrossed in the narrative weaving, adoring every fan tailored reference, but if you’re really interested in narrative depth, you’ll be left somewhat disappointed that the series ends (?) in such a hasty, incongruous way.

Continuing with the pretentious nature of the overarching plot of the series, there are a lot of interesting themes underlying MGS4’s depiction of the future, and most of them with a controversial nature: capitalism and its impact on state’s sovereignty and global power structures, war and its shadowy motivations, genetics and the ethics of science, cultural and family legacy and its impact in the world, just to name a few. As always, expect long dialogs, though fortunately, unlike previous works, the Codec medium is almost completely absent, relinquishing its seat to fully acted, technically stunning animation sequences. Yet, like in every magic act, substance can be of little importance, as style and form can often determine the impact a work has on its audience, and thus, its perception and efficacy. And this is where Kojima’s act vanishes in smoke: MGS4’s cinematic tone, instead of going back to the subtlety and seriousness of the first MGS, opts for the grand, operatic, flamboyant style of MGS2 and 3, completely in tune with modern wacky japanimations. Well, in reality, it surpasses his predecessors, as “Guns of the Patriots” tries to encompass even more styles, genres and tones than any other game/movie/book known to Man. You’ll get sad, dramatic scenes followed by cute monkeys burping from drinking coke and coughing from smoking tobacco; bittersweet, nurturing moments of bonding followed by the most outrageous action sequences with coreographies that make “Advent Children” and “Devil May Cry” look like slow ballets; you’ll get fart jokes in between “Private Ryan” war sets – if you can name a style, then most likely, “Guns of the Patriots” has it: from comedy to tragedy, drama to action; sci-fi to noir. The problem with this virtuoso fruit salad is that all of its elements lose their ability to attain their objectives, as the players’ mindset becomes too fragmented to sink in such a wide array of emotions. Eventually, this murders characters in the eye of the spectator, as you’ll never know if you’re supposed to take things seriously or not. It’ becomes hard to watch such multifaceted characters treated in such a dictatorial way, destroying their credibility and connection with the audience just for the sake of a few laughs or sentimental sighs.

Above all, the game fails when compared to its long legacy. Looking back at the first “Metal Gear Solid”, with its consistently dark aesthetic, and its wonderful cast of morally torn characters, it’s hard not to wish MGS4 would be different. Remember the sobriety of MGS’s tragic tale – a group of people forced to wage war with one another, played like human puppets, suffering at the hands of fate and powers they could never understand. The depth of its storytelling, the great use of sound and cutscenes, the revolutionary gameplay and AI.. Sure, there were some crazy anime elements (Mantis’ flying around comes to mind), but they were toned down, and usually served as ways of rendering character’s inner struggles and beliefs, a meaningful hyperbole of what passed inside them, if you will. In 4, every eccentricity is hollow and out of context. Balance and focus are what MGS4 lacks the most: its outrageous tone and fan pleasing desire just ruin the delicate narrative structure other Metal Gears’ possessed. It’s still a brilliant game, and certainly one of the best to have been released since “Bioshock”, but it poses as a mere shadow of its ancestors. In a way, it’s a good thing “MGS4” ends the saga, for it was becoming a titan larger than its own author; but on the other hand, it is a bittersweet farewell, as you look back and acknowledge the differences between this iteration and what “MGS” once meant for a small, artistically poor medium. Let’s just hope that Kojima can impress us with his magic in the future, as he breaks free from the shackles of Big Boss’ legacy.

Overall: 3/5