Kaffee
06-14-2005, 12:20 AM
Not All's Well That Ends Well.
by Nadia Oxford 06.07.2005
Video games can be rough taskmasters. A veteran drill sergeant is more likely to make you feel good about your accomplishments than your console is, especially your old 8-bit Nintendo. What did you get for sitting in front of early NES games until your eyes turned square, mowing down waves of enemies without saves or passwords? A solitary black screen that offered you "CONGRATULATION," or a dog-faced princess who stayed fifty feet away from Mario and yelled her laconic thank-yous from across the room. At best, the President took you out for a burger as thanks for rescuing him from terrorists, dudes.
It doesn't take heavy thinking to realize that these sparse endings were relative to plots that rarely went beyond "Shoot everything," "Save the princess," or "Save Ronald Reagan." As game mechanics became more complex, the plots that drove them evolved as well, and the rewards for staying with a character as he or she struggled through their journey became richer.
Gamers may prefer a conclusive ending in the short term, but the cryptic, mysterious endings stick in their minds
However, substance in an ending doesn't always equal satisfaction. A player might spend upwards of 60 hours with an RPG, sharing in the main characters' triumphs and revelations, and sitting through their fits of angst. They're not going to be very happy if the ending suddenly shifts to the irrelevant, philosophical ramblings of a janitor named Bill, even if that ending is two hours long. They want to know what's going to happen to the characters they spent so much time with. Will Mr. Thief marry Ms. Imitation Opera Singer? Has Mr. Crazy Guy really been put down for good? Most RPG endings are topped with excellent graphics and movies, but a pretty display of graphics on its own isn't a suitable conclusion for an RPG. Turning on Breath of Fire III for the Playstation was like signing up for a term in the Army. You were in it for the long haul, although hiking through knee-high mud was probably more fun than the game's brutally difficult "Desert of Death" sequence. The ending offered some nice sprite-work, but, disappointingly, almost nothing in the way of story resolution.
Many gamers feel that the more time they spend on a game (especially an RPG), the more entitled they are to a thorough wrap-up. This doesn't mean, however, that action games and other adventures that take less hours to complete and have less story should be excused from a good ending. Super Mario Bros. 2, for example, had a fairly thin plot, but the cartoon-like graphic of Mario "dreaming" the whole adventure at the end blew the fans away, and even today it remains one of the most beloved game endings of all time. It wrapped up the bit of story the game had with an unexpected treat for the player, and it also gave Mario a little bit more of a personality. A hero in his bedclothes is kind of intimate.
Another platformer's ending that's not easily forgotten is Mega Man 2's. The game also had little in the way of plot or text, but it delivered a conclusion that was intriguing, if not cryptic. After defeating the evil Dr. Wily for the second time, Mega Man walks home through changing seasons that reflect the weapons he gathered from the robot masters (such as Metal Blades drifting from the sky like snow flakes -- ouch). At the very end, we see his helmet lying empty on the grass, and a small village in the distance. Is Mega Man dead? Did he sink into the ground? Or is the obvious answer the right one -- did he go home? Who even knew that Mega Man had a home? Again, character development was pleasantly delivered when it wasn't expected. But these rewarding NES endings were unfortunately more the exception than the rule.
While developers usually invest more time and resources into the endings of modern games, one thing hasn't changed much since Mega Man 2: Writers like to keep the fans guessing about the fates of their characters, and fans have a love-hate relationship with such games.
Even the most hyped, reputable games will sometimes carry conclusions that say little to the player
At the end of Final Fantasy IV, which introduced many gamers to complex game plots and twists, Cecil beat up the evil Zeromus. He married his sweetheart, Rosa, and the party was attended by all the friends he'd shared his adventure with -- even the supposedly dead ones. There were a few remaining threads of bad feelings between some of the characters, like Kain's unresolved jealousy of Cecil, but Final Fantasy IV's ending was otherwise straight out of a storybook.
Final Fantasy VII's ending wasn't nearly as straightforward. One of the game's major themes was humanity's role on the planet. Is the human race beneficial to Earth, or is it a plague? Towards the end of the game, one character hints that the planet might view humans as the latter, and there's a chance that there will be a mass extinction when Earth is given a chance to "heal" itself.
Sephiroth is killed, and the planet uses its life force, "Lifestream," to annihilate Meteor and repair the damage that's been done while the cast looks on. Meteor is destroyed in a blinding flash of light, Cloud and his friends all shield themselves from the onslaught, and the credits roll. Afterwards, there is one last movie where an aged Red XIII runs through Cosmo Canyon, then bounds up a cliff with two cubs in tow. The valley below is thick with vegetation, and signs of human civilization -- such as Shinra's Mako reactor -- has been completely overgrown. The screen goes black, and children can be heard laughing.
Wars have been waged on message board posts that tried to interpret Final Fantasy VII's ending. Did the planet decide to kill humans off? Or did it spare them? There is evidence for both outcomes, and until the development of Advent Children (which continues FF VII's story, indicating that humans likely _did_ survive), the ending garnered heated discussion like few other game endings have. Gamers may prefer a conclusive ending like Final Fantasy IV's in the short term, but it's obviously the cryptic, mysterious endings that stick in their minds and keep them talking and guessing for months, even years.
Controversy versus a quick, pleasant wrap-up. There's an easy way to give gamers both, and it's an option that's rapidly becoming more common: Multiple endings. A player is rewarded according to how they play and finish a game. In Sonic the Hedgehog for the Sega Genesis, if the player collects all the Chaos Emeralds before defeating the evil Dr. Robotnik, they're shown an alternate ending in which the speedy hedgehog runs through a completely de-roboticized Mobius. In Castlevania II: Simon's Quest for the NES, the amount of time taken to beat Dracula makes the difference between Simon becoming a hero or dying of his wounds at the game's end.
Multiple endings have since become more complex, and continue to mature. Chrono Trigger, a late Super Nintendo RPG, introduced most RPG fans to a story that truly branched out into different endings and possibilities. Crono and his friends journey across time and space to take down the parasitic alien, Lavos, who is slowly consuming the planet. The paths Crono takes and the friends he meets on the endeavor determines the final fate of the party. Usually, taking the road less traveled yields a more satisfying ending, while completing the game with unfinished business might mean an unhappy fate for one or more of the characters. Chrono Trigger's story and cast wasn't quite as rich as its cousin, Final Fantasy VI, but this new manner of controlling the outcome of the story gave birth to some of the most memorable characters in any RPG. The very concept of choices made versus choices became a major theme in Chrono Trigger's Playstation sequel, Chrono Cross.
Video game endings aren't even completely story or graphic-centric anymore. Finishing a game might unlock hidden secrets like hidden music tracks, or galleries of characters' development sketches and diagrams. "Hard" modes might become available for the masochistic, and their completion might be the only path to the game's "true" ending.
Some developers have even decided that a game's ending doesn't necessarily have to be at the end. Sandbox games don't typically have endings (though Bowser ripping through downtown Simcity likely leaves some broken-legged citizens wishing for final oblivion). But some, like the Grand Theft Auto series, do have incidental endings that mark the end of the game's story, and the gameplay continues to at least some degree.
Somewhat rarer are games with "fake" endings. The player is led through the adventure, never suspecting that the final confrontation is anything but just that. But when the boss monstrosity has breathed its last, it's revealed that something much grander is in store. Alucard from Castlevania: Symphony of the Night explores his father's twisted castle to confront Richter Belmont, a vampire hunter turned evil and silly. The game can end here, but if Alucard has indeed explored every corner of Castlevania and discovers a means of breaking an evil priest's control over Richter instead of having to outright kill him, the game doesn't end. No indeed. It's simply revealed that Alucard isn't even halfway to discovering who truly is to blame for a bad world filled with evil. Fake endings aren't common, but when they're executed correctly, they're powerful and impossible to forget.
And, of course, a staple of any ending is the credits, which have matured alongside game endings. Early Nintendo and SNES games were usually programmed by "Monkey," with graphic art by "Yuuricho's Papa." These aliases kept headhunters in Japan from trying to pry employees away from their companies, but today, a game director's name can carry the same weight as a movie director's. Nicknames are rarely used anymore.
Many gamers feel that the more time they spend on a game the more entitled they are to a thorough wrap-up.
Despite definite advancement, there is still a lot of grumbling about flimsy game endings today. For a game that's supposed to be revolutionary for its character development, Fable's ending has the diversity of a high school flowchart. Even the most hyped, reputable games will sometimes carry conclusions that say little to the player, other than a subtle message to buy the sequel and see the story continue. Maybe this is the next step for game endings; neverending stories that stretch across generations and platforms to become huge, electronic tomes that will make War and Peace look as voluminous as The Little Engine that Could.
In that case, start playing and don't think about the end. Your grandchildren will tell you what ultimately happened to Master Chief when you all reunite in Heaven or Somewhere Else.
by Nadia Oxford 06.07.2005
Video games can be rough taskmasters. A veteran drill sergeant is more likely to make you feel good about your accomplishments than your console is, especially your old 8-bit Nintendo. What did you get for sitting in front of early NES games until your eyes turned square, mowing down waves of enemies without saves or passwords? A solitary black screen that offered you "CONGRATULATION," or a dog-faced princess who stayed fifty feet away from Mario and yelled her laconic thank-yous from across the room. At best, the President took you out for a burger as thanks for rescuing him from terrorists, dudes.
It doesn't take heavy thinking to realize that these sparse endings were relative to plots that rarely went beyond "Shoot everything," "Save the princess," or "Save Ronald Reagan." As game mechanics became more complex, the plots that drove them evolved as well, and the rewards for staying with a character as he or she struggled through their journey became richer.
Gamers may prefer a conclusive ending in the short term, but the cryptic, mysterious endings stick in their minds
However, substance in an ending doesn't always equal satisfaction. A player might spend upwards of 60 hours with an RPG, sharing in the main characters' triumphs and revelations, and sitting through their fits of angst. They're not going to be very happy if the ending suddenly shifts to the irrelevant, philosophical ramblings of a janitor named Bill, even if that ending is two hours long. They want to know what's going to happen to the characters they spent so much time with. Will Mr. Thief marry Ms. Imitation Opera Singer? Has Mr. Crazy Guy really been put down for good? Most RPG endings are topped with excellent graphics and movies, but a pretty display of graphics on its own isn't a suitable conclusion for an RPG. Turning on Breath of Fire III for the Playstation was like signing up for a term in the Army. You were in it for the long haul, although hiking through knee-high mud was probably more fun than the game's brutally difficult "Desert of Death" sequence. The ending offered some nice sprite-work, but, disappointingly, almost nothing in the way of story resolution.
Many gamers feel that the more time they spend on a game (especially an RPG), the more entitled they are to a thorough wrap-up. This doesn't mean, however, that action games and other adventures that take less hours to complete and have less story should be excused from a good ending. Super Mario Bros. 2, for example, had a fairly thin plot, but the cartoon-like graphic of Mario "dreaming" the whole adventure at the end blew the fans away, and even today it remains one of the most beloved game endings of all time. It wrapped up the bit of story the game had with an unexpected treat for the player, and it also gave Mario a little bit more of a personality. A hero in his bedclothes is kind of intimate.
Another platformer's ending that's not easily forgotten is Mega Man 2's. The game also had little in the way of plot or text, but it delivered a conclusion that was intriguing, if not cryptic. After defeating the evil Dr. Wily for the second time, Mega Man walks home through changing seasons that reflect the weapons he gathered from the robot masters (such as Metal Blades drifting from the sky like snow flakes -- ouch). At the very end, we see his helmet lying empty on the grass, and a small village in the distance. Is Mega Man dead? Did he sink into the ground? Or is the obvious answer the right one -- did he go home? Who even knew that Mega Man had a home? Again, character development was pleasantly delivered when it wasn't expected. But these rewarding NES endings were unfortunately more the exception than the rule.
While developers usually invest more time and resources into the endings of modern games, one thing hasn't changed much since Mega Man 2: Writers like to keep the fans guessing about the fates of their characters, and fans have a love-hate relationship with such games.
Even the most hyped, reputable games will sometimes carry conclusions that say little to the player
At the end of Final Fantasy IV, which introduced many gamers to complex game plots and twists, Cecil beat up the evil Zeromus. He married his sweetheart, Rosa, and the party was attended by all the friends he'd shared his adventure with -- even the supposedly dead ones. There were a few remaining threads of bad feelings between some of the characters, like Kain's unresolved jealousy of Cecil, but Final Fantasy IV's ending was otherwise straight out of a storybook.
Final Fantasy VII's ending wasn't nearly as straightforward. One of the game's major themes was humanity's role on the planet. Is the human race beneficial to Earth, or is it a plague? Towards the end of the game, one character hints that the planet might view humans as the latter, and there's a chance that there will be a mass extinction when Earth is given a chance to "heal" itself.
Sephiroth is killed, and the planet uses its life force, "Lifestream," to annihilate Meteor and repair the damage that's been done while the cast looks on. Meteor is destroyed in a blinding flash of light, Cloud and his friends all shield themselves from the onslaught, and the credits roll. Afterwards, there is one last movie where an aged Red XIII runs through Cosmo Canyon, then bounds up a cliff with two cubs in tow. The valley below is thick with vegetation, and signs of human civilization -- such as Shinra's Mako reactor -- has been completely overgrown. The screen goes black, and children can be heard laughing.
Wars have been waged on message board posts that tried to interpret Final Fantasy VII's ending. Did the planet decide to kill humans off? Or did it spare them? There is evidence for both outcomes, and until the development of Advent Children (which continues FF VII's story, indicating that humans likely _did_ survive), the ending garnered heated discussion like few other game endings have. Gamers may prefer a conclusive ending like Final Fantasy IV's in the short term, but it's obviously the cryptic, mysterious endings that stick in their minds and keep them talking and guessing for months, even years.
Controversy versus a quick, pleasant wrap-up. There's an easy way to give gamers both, and it's an option that's rapidly becoming more common: Multiple endings. A player is rewarded according to how they play and finish a game. In Sonic the Hedgehog for the Sega Genesis, if the player collects all the Chaos Emeralds before defeating the evil Dr. Robotnik, they're shown an alternate ending in which the speedy hedgehog runs through a completely de-roboticized Mobius. In Castlevania II: Simon's Quest for the NES, the amount of time taken to beat Dracula makes the difference between Simon becoming a hero or dying of his wounds at the game's end.
Multiple endings have since become more complex, and continue to mature. Chrono Trigger, a late Super Nintendo RPG, introduced most RPG fans to a story that truly branched out into different endings and possibilities. Crono and his friends journey across time and space to take down the parasitic alien, Lavos, who is slowly consuming the planet. The paths Crono takes and the friends he meets on the endeavor determines the final fate of the party. Usually, taking the road less traveled yields a more satisfying ending, while completing the game with unfinished business might mean an unhappy fate for one or more of the characters. Chrono Trigger's story and cast wasn't quite as rich as its cousin, Final Fantasy VI, but this new manner of controlling the outcome of the story gave birth to some of the most memorable characters in any RPG. The very concept of choices made versus choices became a major theme in Chrono Trigger's Playstation sequel, Chrono Cross.
Video game endings aren't even completely story or graphic-centric anymore. Finishing a game might unlock hidden secrets like hidden music tracks, or galleries of characters' development sketches and diagrams. "Hard" modes might become available for the masochistic, and their completion might be the only path to the game's "true" ending.
Some developers have even decided that a game's ending doesn't necessarily have to be at the end. Sandbox games don't typically have endings (though Bowser ripping through downtown Simcity likely leaves some broken-legged citizens wishing for final oblivion). But some, like the Grand Theft Auto series, do have incidental endings that mark the end of the game's story, and the gameplay continues to at least some degree.
Somewhat rarer are games with "fake" endings. The player is led through the adventure, never suspecting that the final confrontation is anything but just that. But when the boss monstrosity has breathed its last, it's revealed that something much grander is in store. Alucard from Castlevania: Symphony of the Night explores his father's twisted castle to confront Richter Belmont, a vampire hunter turned evil and silly. The game can end here, but if Alucard has indeed explored every corner of Castlevania and discovers a means of breaking an evil priest's control over Richter instead of having to outright kill him, the game doesn't end. No indeed. It's simply revealed that Alucard isn't even halfway to discovering who truly is to blame for a bad world filled with evil. Fake endings aren't common, but when they're executed correctly, they're powerful and impossible to forget.
And, of course, a staple of any ending is the credits, which have matured alongside game endings. Early Nintendo and SNES games were usually programmed by "Monkey," with graphic art by "Yuuricho's Papa." These aliases kept headhunters in Japan from trying to pry employees away from their companies, but today, a game director's name can carry the same weight as a movie director's. Nicknames are rarely used anymore.
Many gamers feel that the more time they spend on a game the more entitled they are to a thorough wrap-up.
Despite definite advancement, there is still a lot of grumbling about flimsy game endings today. For a game that's supposed to be revolutionary for its character development, Fable's ending has the diversity of a high school flowchart. Even the most hyped, reputable games will sometimes carry conclusions that say little to the player, other than a subtle message to buy the sequel and see the story continue. Maybe this is the next step for game endings; neverending stories that stretch across generations and platforms to become huge, electronic tomes that will make War and Peace look as voluminous as The Little Engine that Could.
In that case, start playing and don't think about the end. Your grandchildren will tell you what ultimately happened to Master Chief when you all reunite in Heaven or Somewhere Else.