The 1.5 sequel

Economics regulate many aspects of our lives, and videogames are no exception. The more our consoles are getting closer to picture-perfect photo-realism, the higher the cost of producing a videogame. This is especially true when it comes to AAA titles, and although indie games can get away with simpler or more ‘artistic’ or abstract graphics, everyone has to at least meet the HD standards expected of today’s games.

But I do not want to rant about graphics today, that’ll have to wait for another time. In fact, my point is simply to underline a sad new reality in the videogame business: making a game is costly, very much so that games now come out unfinished, so they can turn in some profit. Any new game is kind of offered at first in a 0.9 version, left opened, with a lot of loose ends. That makes their inevitable sequels the real, full games. Instead of being a ‘2’ at the end of the title to signify the sequel, such games should have a ‘1.5’.

New game ideas are risky, because if a game costs so much to be produced, a new idea represents the possibility of being rejected by the gaming community, which of course will result in low sales. So, new ideas are introduced in small implements, released as incomplete games, because a new idea, or a new game system, takes time (and resources) to develop, building on the risk of rejection. Ubisoft’s Assassin’s Creed offered something new, the ideas of parkour and urban stealth, but these new systems weren’t completely fleshed out and exploited to their best up until its sequel.

It is, of course, fully understandable, from an economic point of view, that such baby steps are taken when it comes to newness in games. But that leaves us with a sad observation: if we all agree on the concept of the 1.5 sequel, then shouldn’t we just skip on any new franchise, wisely waiting to play its sequel to have the real full experience? Even worse, are we losing sight of what is a good sequel?

What are the worthy traits of a true sequel? The answer is probably different for each gamer and game producer, and here is my humble suggestion on the matter. The statement I made before, whereas game sequels are now simple 1.5 versions, is built upon the assumption that the sequel actually delivers on the promises of its first version, because the first version played and felt like an incomplete game. Merely adding options that should have been there in the first place doesn’t make for a good sequel, but more like good apologies.

Removing options in favor of cleaner gameplay and flow does help. No more heroes (Grasshopper Manufacture, Wii) offered a complete game system enclosed in a free-roaming map, offering interesting boss battles and colorful dialogue and themes. Its sequel, Desperate Struggle (Grasshopper Manufacture, Wii), fine-tuned the system to offer a better flow of things. There are more boss battles (that each serve to forward narrative), and the open-world is reduced to a static map with spots where you chose to automatically ‘teleport’. Since the first game made very little use of its extravagant mode of transportation, the Schpeltiger motorcycle, the fact that it is cut out of its sequel is a welcome idea. Emphasis on strong narrative moments (the aforementioned boss battles) also makes for a more focused and immersive gaming experience.

Another way to look at sequels is to not think of a follow-up title as a sequel. The very idea of a sequel comes with its set of shackles and restrictions about what the game can and must be about. A sequel has to incorporate a very clear link to one another, be it the same protagonist, the same evil, the same world, etc. Some game series go about it in an abstract way. Though they share a very similar game structure and system, series like The Legend of Zelda (Nintendo) or Silent Hill (Konami) offer different iterations, or different interpretations of the universe they depict. Recent Zelda games have gone out of their way to create new worlds: Spirit Tracks (DS) is all about trains and steam-era technology mixed with medieval magic, and Wind Waker puts its protagonist on a boat to discover the wonders of the ocean. The very solid Shattered Memories (Climax, Wii) is often shunned as a failed remake of the original Silent Hill, but taken as a bold new interpretation of the horror franchise’s universe, it suddenly becomes an imaginative and genuinely creepy offering (it also sports some of the best graphics the Wii has to show off).

Continuing with bold sequels, I should mention Red Steel 2 (Ubisoft Paris, Wii). The first title of the series, Red Steel (Ubisoft Paris, Wii) was an honest effort, failing to deliver on its promises of handling a sword and a gun with the Wii-mote. Its sequel, probably to wash off any resemblance to the first game, made away with the realistic setting and gritty Yakuza scenario in favor of a completely new universe, closer to its creators European bande-dessiné roots, mixing spaghetti western and Japanese samurai aesthetics to come up with an excellent sequel. One could argue Red Steel 2 is better because it is backed up by better technology (it was the first Wii-motion plus capable game offered on the market after all), but its new cartoony universe goes a long way into creating an endearing feeling and an immersive experience, something the first game couldn’t muster.

Understanding what your game is about, paying attention to the themes of the game, is another good way to make a great sequel. The Metroid Prime Trilogy (Retro Games, Wii) is, ahem, a prime example of a good and bad attempt at understanding the very game you are working on. Metroid Prime is an excellent game, by all accounts. How can you go wrong after that?

By making the same game again.

Metroid Prime Echoes didn’t stray far from the path of its predecessor which, while being understandable, is what made it a poor sequel. The game follow the exact same structure (a few hours of item collecting, followed by a revisiting of the whole map to find relics based on obscure clues in order to unlock the final boss), but does away with colorful and different environments to stick with brownish greens and dark purples throughout. Its follow-up, Metroid Prime Corruption, is probably the best Wii game available on the market right now. Several new inclusions serve the theme of the game well: yes, there are NPCs in Corruption, but they make you feel particularly alone when you end up on a hostile planet without any humans, knowing there is something resembling a ‘home-planet’ somewhere else. Protagonist Samus Aran’s single seated space ship (which you can board) also serves to remind you that you are on a one-man (one-woman?) crusade. The environments are colorful and varied, and the addition of space travel adds a lot of weight to the feel of overall exploration and naturally explains the diverse climates you’ll come across.

All these examples illustrate a good part of my personal reflection on the matter of sequels. In a world of big-budgeted AAA 1.5 titles, it is still possible to create some original and refreshing games without throwing away the whole franchise, games deserving of a whole 2.0.