Trago uma matéria muito boa da IGN que fala basicamente sobre como os gamers se tornaram frangotes que desistem no primeiro game-over! Ou quase isso XD
Todos os créditos são da IGN, o link para o post original está no fim da matéria.
“If there’s a single defining characteristic of Dark Souls, it’s that it’s bastard tough. You’ll struggle to find a review of the game that doesn’t contain the words “difficult”, “hard”, or “crikey”. And despite handing players their arses on a platter – or perhaps because of it – it’s burned up the charts to become a minor hit.
It’s not as though we weren’t given any warning. We already had our tortured memories of its 2009 predecessor Demon’s Souls. And then there was From Software’s openly sadistic glee whenever the developer spoke about its ambitions for the sequel. Both conspired to form a noxious, forbidding cloud of dread around the new release: it was the smell of fear.
All of which begs the question: since when did the did a game’s difficulty become a point of interest? Is it the case that modern games have become too easy? Or maybe, just maybe, we’ve all grown too soft…?
Currently, there’s probably a handful of games with a reputation for supreme toughness. The Ninja Gaiden revival is one of them. Devil May Cry is another, especially the third instalment. But we’re far removed from the 8-Bit NES era, where games like Ghosts n Goblins, Mega Man and R-Type were routinely unforgiving. Instead, modern games prefer to hold players by the hand, leading them from set-piece to set-piece, checkpoint to checkpoint.
A good example is Uncharted 2, part of a brilliantly polished series and riotous fun from beginning to end. But the game is orchestrated like one big action sequence, and Nathan Drake’s path through it is never entirely within your control.
Let’s look at it on a micro-level, when Drake is climbing walls. You press the action button and he jumps and holds on to something; push the thumbstick in a particular direction and he will reach out for a predetermined handhold. Drake doesn’t have the option to move anywhere else but the path that’s been mapped out. There’s no precision or fine-tuning here, no easing yourself to the edge of a precipice to maximise the range of your leap.
Contrast that with the original version of Tomb Raider, which is the most obvious inspiration for Uncharted. Lara Croft’s freedom of movement was much greater, and consequently the chances of her coming to harm were greater too. Between then and now, the granularity of the player’s control has been devolved, and we spend more time prompting the action instead of being the catalyst for it.
Another example is the quick time event, or the QTE. This device has crept into game design as a way of implementing action sequences that either couldn’t be performed or would be too difficult to execute within the game’s standard control scheme. Recent titles that relied heavily on the technique were God of War III and Heavy Rain.
From a player’s perspective it has an unusual effect, momentarily plucking them from their accustomed space into something entirely new. But if you don’t react promptly and hit the right sequence of buttons, your progression is temporarily stalled. QTEs certainly have their fans, but it’s also arguable that they’re a product of developer hubris. The intention is to amp up the visual spectacle, rather than deliver any tangible benefit to the quality of the gameplay.
With that in mind, we can better understand the real reason why modern games have become easier. It’s because developers want you to experience the whole game, from beginning to end. They’ve spent millions of dollars, resources and man-hours in producing a title. They want it to be a hit. They don’t want you to stop playing it after the first stage.
The rationale is that the difficulty level needs to be a gentle incline to provide enough challenge to keep you engaged, but not too much that it forces you stop. But somewhere along the way, games design started to err on the side of caution, and now modern games are the digital equivalent of an amusement ride.
Which brings us back to Dark Souls. Playing it has been agonising in places, waging a grim war of attrition against the many traps and pitfalls that lie in wait. It would be easy to just shrug your shoulders and walk away from the game; life’s too short, and there’s another instalment of Call of Duty just around the corner.
Then again… A sense of morbid curiosity urges you to untangle its secrets and mysteries, to develop a winning strategy. Already, the interwebs are filled with the chatter of players exchanging advice on how to proceed. Some of it is pure, useless speculation, but it shows how engaged we are with the unusual challenge it presents.
Will Dark Souls inspire more games to be similarly difficult? Probably not. For one thing, if a game’s extreme difficulty moves from being a novelty to being a standard, it stops being unique – it becomes a chore, and players would lose interest. For another, it’d be commercial suicide. Generations of players raised on lesser fare don’t have the attention span or the temperament to be punished for their lack of robustness.
But the positive effect that Dark Souls will have is this: people find inspiration and innovation at the fringes of gaming culture, not at its heart. Developers will have taken note of the innovative online mode, where you can cross over into other “realms” to assist (or attack) other players, and vice-versa. Co-op play is imbued with a whole new dimension of human generosity – or spite.
There’s also the way in which the game chooses to divulge information, to disorient its players, and to maintain the element of spine-tingling surprise, all whilst maintaining a consistent mode of play. This is supremely harsh, but it’s also fair, and any failures are entirely of your own making. In the years to come, we might see a few titles that offer this same flash of compelling excitement – albeit perhaps without the same penalties for failure. ”