Demolition City 2 Review

Demolition City 2 is a free Flash game composed by Joey Betz, produced by Armor Games and released on the Newgrounds Portal. It's yet another icon of Flash gaming simplicity and addiction, and a brilliant work of art at that.

DC2 is a physics-based demolition game. The player's role is that of a demolition expert set out to complete missions for various contractors. In the game, there are five different "worlds" of buildings to demolish, each new world more challenging than the last. After each building demolition, the player earns money to purchase more equipment to facilitate easier destruction of new obstacles.

The "buildings" in each level are composed of straight beams of various substances (wood, stone, metal, etc.) set up into a two-dimensional standing pattern. In each demolition, the player has a limited number of "Dynamite Points" that they need to use strategically in order to demolish the building. The number of points allotted per demolition varies from building to building depending on its size and difficulty. Upon demolition, the resulting pile of beams and stones needs to rest beneath a certain height in order to pass the level. Even if one stray beam or girder touches past the maximum height, the level needs to be replayed.

As progress is made in the game and more money is earned, new explosive devices can be purchased that are sometimes required to pass future levels. Each new device uses up more Dynamite Points per application; for example, a three-pack of dynamite uses three points, and an RDX Steel Cutter uses ten points. The strategy lies in determining what devices to use where in the building to bring it down the most efficiently.

The system that determines how much money is earned from each demolition is pretty straightfoward. Every building demolition starts off with a contract price. That is, if you reduce it to below the maximum height, you get the contract money. Bonuses are awarded for the distance you go below the max height; the lower it goes, the bigger the bonus. Extra cash can also be aquired by using less than the maximum number of Dynamite Points to bring down the building. However, on many demolitions there are extraneous objects placed near or within the buildings. If any part of the building touches that object, it will be destroyed, and a large portion of your earnings will be lost.

The graphics of the game are stellar for a Flash game- typical of the high-quality games and movies released by Armor Games. As is required for this type of game, the physics are very accurate and this added realism adds some very real challenge in bringing the buildings down. The overall nature of the game is comical and cartoonish; for example, the first world is a Wild West-type scenario where the cowboys want you to blow up the banks and houses to make room for more gunfighting. Game sound is interesting and equally animated- instead of explosion sounds, a cymbal crash occurs for every dynamite blast. The background music can get a bit repetitive and annoying, but it was a good choice for the overall feel of the game.

DC2 can be extremely challenging for such a simple premise, especially when it comes to avoiding the money-draining extraneous objects placed around some of the buildings. There are numerous ways to complete each demolition puzzle, which lends to the game's replayability and challenge. Because of the game's accurate physics, there can be a few interesting gameplay features. Placing the explosives is only half the challenge; the other half is coordinating the falling action of the bulding components so they have the "domino effect" on other beams. There are a number of both right and wrong answers to the demolitions, so no two people will play through the game the same way. One interesting glitch of the physics engine is that often times the exact explosives placement will have a slightly different effect each time- sometimes it will bring the building down, and sometimes it won't. To me, this only adds to the realism of the physics and contributes to the gameplay experience, but for others it may be viewed as a source of vexation when trying to topple the structures.

While triple-A titles may have the largest sales figures and fanbase, the backbone of the gaming world is composed of simple, addicting, widely-available games that can keep people glued to a screen for hours. Some of the most interesting in this field are the freely-available indie games created by the scores of Flash artists at Newgrounds.com, and Demolition City 2 is no exception. The premise and feel of the game is friendly and simple, but the gameplay is challenging and highly addicting. Having an excellent physics simulation and high replayability value certainly elevate the game above the rest. Ultimately, DC2 suits its niche perfectly as an engaging and simple puzzle game that's free for anyone who has access to the Internet and an hour or two to spare.

9/10

Genre

While it is important to recognize a game for what it offers to the player, sometimes the act of tossing games into uber-specific categories can get a little out of hand. It is true that games require some sort of label in order to notify the consumer of what they're getting themselves into. However, the art of video games is so dynamic that attempting to form-fit every game to a certain pre-set genre is both impossible and ridiculous. In fact, the same scenario rings true with most forms of art, especially music. The term "metal" just can't serve as the same ballpark for two bands like, say, Led Zeppelin and The Dillinger Escape Plan. Conversely, getting too deep with nomenclature can be just as troublesome, as one can ultimately come up with as many genre classes as there are games to fill them.

The "casual-for-hardcore" article by James Portnow touched on an interesting subject- the creation of casual games intended for a hardcore audience. According to his ideas, there needs to be a new range of reduced-pace games made available to the hardcore gaming community, as the current slew of casual games are unappealing to this group. To me, this seems to draw too many senselessly-fine lines. How does one determine what is too casual or not casual enough for a range of audiences? "Now introducing new, improved, plus-sized mediocrity!" There are literally hundreds, if not thousands of "casual" games for hardcore gamers to burn time with, ranging from the mind-numbing to the slightly entrancing (remember, it's casual games we're discussing- nothing too rough). The creation of another subset of casual games would only serve to complicate an area where complexity certainly isn't needed or wanted.

In short, genres themselves should be used in a casual sense when referring to games, or any art form . Over-use with the intent to distinguish one group of games is senseless, but without a system of classification, nobody would know what they were getting in to when they purchased games. One solution would be to devise a new system of genre-labeling that used a more descriptive form, such as a sentence instead of one or two words. This would allow for much greater flexibility; however, many folks would feel the resistance of losing their rudimentary system. Until something new comes by, games will continue to be forced into poorly-fitting genre classes or singled out in obscurely-created subgroups.

Andale

It was the middle of the night, and the Capital Wasteland was eerily quiet. The moonlit rocks and ruins held no cause for vexation for me that night as I made my way down the broken concrete trail. After walking southwest of Vault 101 for quite some time, I hadn't encountered a single Talon Company unit, renegade robot, or Deathclaw- a blessing, as my health was very low and I was without food or Stimpacks. My Reservist Rifle was in good repair, but I had very little ammunition to get by on, and had no wish to stand up against the Talon Company with nothing but five bullets, a knife, and dumb luck.

After slinking through the rocky darkness for a good long while, I peered through the scope of my rifle into the distance. Looking to the south and east, I saw nothing but more broken waste and a few Mirelurks shuffling through the brush. To avoid an unfortunate encounter with the cycloptic crustaceans, I decided to continue west and see what existed ahead. With my luck it would probably be an entire nest of Deathclaws, but I ultimately decided that something so disturbing couldn't possibly exist out here.

Whilst cresting the next hill, I saw rooftops begin to crest in the chasm below. My Pip-Boy quickly identified what was left of the D.C. suburb as Andale. It was still dark, but through my rifle scope I determined the town to be deserted- perhaps populated by a Raider or two, at the worst. I crept slowly down the hill and into the remains of the village's main street, seeing nothing that constituted a threat. However, with my health and ammunition running as low as it was, I decided it would be wise to tear the place down in search of loot. Before I could proceed into any of the houses, though, something strange caught my attention. Between two of the houses on the main street stood what appeared to be a small tool shed. It seemed rather unassuming, but I felt compelled to search it first, as it might have contained some really useful equipment.

Upon approaching the door, I discovered it was locked- very locked. Someone had clearly stored something here that was not meant to be discovered. And with my stellar lockpicking skills, I felt compelled to reassign ownership of whatever was so carefully secured within. As the lock's tumbler moved and the door creaked open, I was confronted with a grizzly scene.

From wall to wall inside the shed, dismembered, half-consumed bodies were strewn about on the floor, hung from hooks, and stuffed into bags. There was a workbench that ran along the far wall; it itself was stacked with body parts, bone saws, chainsaws, and other evidence of sadism and torture. Several refrigerators stood next to the bench, and I felt no desire to discover the contents. After regaining my composure, it took little effort to turn around and escape the box of gore.

As I shut the door behind me and gazed out into the open air, I soon realized was also gazing into the barrels of several firearms and the eyes of angry humans. They made it immediately obvious to me that they were responsible for the contents of the shed, and were quite ready to mix my body into the Shed Stew. Fortunately, these folks didn't appear to be the brightest and I readily convinced them that I too was a cannibal and simply grabbing a snack. While this saved me from certain death, it didn't save them from my contempt for their behavior. They bantered on about being the last great American town in the country, and how they did all they could to uphold American values. The two families existing there- the Smiths and the Wilsons- made their living from deaths of passers by, and made mention of a "crazy" older relative living nearby. After the situation had quieted, they returned to their homes and I was confronted with an even worse conundrum. What was I to do about this? To leave the situation unchecked would result in scores of future deaths, but could I really bring myself to execute two whole families?

I ran to what I believed to be the house of the mentioned relative, and I assumed correctly. If they didn't like him, it was probably because he was the only one with any sense. Upon entering the house, I was immediately greeted by a man who introduced himself as Harris. He was absolutely terrified of what went on in the town, and feared that he might be next on his own family's menu. After speaking to him about the condition of the village, I decided the best course of action would be to quickly, quietly, and painlessly dispatch the adults of each family and put the children into the care of Harris. Such a thing would be an emotionally daunting task, but change was needed. For their sake, it would be best for the children to grow up in a healthy environment with Harris as opposed to with their demented, cannibalistic parents. The gravity of what truly needed to be done began to weigh down on me.

It was about two thirty in the morning, and all of Andale's citizens had returned to bed. A calm, peaceful silence had fallen upon the town. Every star was visible in the cloudless, early-morning sky; moonlight danced softly on the hills and rocks surrounding the village.

Drawing my knife, I stepped into the Wilson house.

MMORPG's and Addiction

Even though I've never personally played an MMORPG, I have been injuriously addicted to a game in the past. While World of Warcraft was still being developed, the addictive-game geniuses at Blizzard already had Diablo II: LoD on the market, and I was completely obsessed. I would sit at the computer for every available hour, pausing only for school, food, and sleep. One whole summer, several breaks, and countless weekends were annihilated in the name of level grinding and item scavenging- the next best thing was never enough. It was only when I took a look at what I'd become did I get truly frustrated with myself and deleted the game from my PC. Though I still occasionally play games, I've taken my experience with Diablo II as a negative one and will never allow myself to be that drawn into a game again. I hold nothing against Diablo; it's a fantastic piece of artwork in its own right, but the way I ultimately ended up playing it was very unhealthy.

Although I've dodged the bullet of MMORPG gaming addiction, many of my friends have fallen hard for World of Warcraft. Several are completely consumed; they must be torn away from their computers to simply hang out for a few hours. When the choice between getting coffee with me or going on a raid in WoW comes into question, the answer is always obvious. To these guys, the real world is nothing more than a support system for their physical bodies to continue playing a game in a world created by someone else. As is obvious, I have a bit of a grudge against those who can't respect the real world and choose to spend all their energy on something fruitless.

Sol Invictus' article really hit home with me, as he describes what it's like to go from being completely addicted back to the world of normal function. Being totally absorbed by a game isn't healthy or productive on any level; as he said, gaming shouldn't cut into everyday functioning. The article Bad Crazy in Internet Space hit on this point as well, mentioning gamers going out of their way in real life to conquer achievements and complete missions in EVE. They'd skip work, lose sleep, and generally allow themselves to deteriorate over longs spans of time to simply progress in the game. He also mentioned certain players spending huge sums of money and committing crimes to get an edge. In short, gaming should be a pleasurable form of entertainment, not a place to hide from reality.

New Games Journalism

Kieron Gillen's 2004 blog was really interesting; it gave solid examples of the direction that gaming journalism needed to go. Simple buyer's guides and so-called "objective" critiques still have an audience, but writing needed to advance in a way which the writer merged himself with his critique in a unique narrative setting. This method would even prove interesting to the non-gaming community, as it relates a personal story as opposed to a blow-by-blow breakdown of the mechanical aspects of a game. It's an ideal method to move games journalism from the world of reporting to the realm of narrative in order to describe the art of a game. The injection of a personal storyline into game investigation would have numerous benefits in countless situations, ranging from a better connection with the current audience whilst drawing in a larger audience that normally wouldn't have considered the game.

L.B. Jeffries' evaluation of Gillen's ideas touched on many important points; although New Games Journalism is a revolutionary means to change the face of gaming criticism, it isn't meant to be used in every situation. As he stated, it's only really effective for relaying a unique game experience, such as an epic multiplayer event. To describe the same gaming event experienced by everyone during a single-player adventure would be downright lame, so in order to keep things interesting, it'd be best if New Games Journalism tactics were only applied to unique and epic situations, such as the Jedi Knight II battle described by Always Black.

The Problem with Games Journalism article really kicked the pretentious game writers off their horses. While writers like that will always exist, it is important to remember the target audience when working for a periodical. In this case, the readers aren't looking for advanced composition and complex language, they simply want to know the in's and out's of a certain game, and whether or not they should spend money on it. This isn't to say that good writing skills aren't appreciated- this certainly isn't true, and good form is always the best means to convey an idea. Leveling yourself with the audience to get the point across will always be the best method.

Art and Gaming

Before determining whether or not games should be considered "art", we first need to identify the established arts which gaming will be classified alongside. Music, theater, literature, film, and painting/visual still-art are the major mediums, and within these forms, it can be said that there is no "better" amongst them. Any judgment is left strictly to opinion, because no form of art is intrinsically better than the others.

The purposes of art are massively varied; it can relay a story, invoke emotional responses, exist as a social or political commentary, or even serve to critique art itself. Once it is established that the function of music, theater, literature, film, and visual arts is to fulfill these purposes, we can argue that games can and do satisfy the requirements to be considered "art".

With most games, gameplay is the same from person to person, hour to hour. Every person that plays Half Life 2 must solve the same puzzles, defeat the same foes, and aquire the same weapons and vehicles to proceed toward the end. This applies to a large portion games throughout history- Super Mario Brothers, Mega Man, Goldeneye 007, Bioshock, and many others. In the same breath, though, most other art forms use the same formula- everyone reads the same words in a novel, sees the same colors in a painting, hears the same notes in a symphony. It's a matter of storytelling done on scales ranging from the simple to the complex. Haiku to novel, Warhol to DeVinci, Fugazi to Beethoven, Mario to Bioshock. With gaming done in this style, a story is being conveyed along the lines of an interactive element. The same story could easily be put in the form of a directly written narrative and still be considered original art, so to argue that an interactively-progressed story isn't art would be absurd.

The other half of the gaming world has a much less direct approach to telling a story; such games fall under the categories of real-time strategies and role-playing games. With these modes, no two people will experience the game the same way. The writers of the game provide an environment, some tools, some boundaries, and launch you headfirst into it (quite literally in the case of Fallout 3). From then on, all gameplay choices are left up to the discretion of the player. In some cases, there isn't even a story present- for example, in Age of Empires II, you can pit the Celts against the Aztecs in an online free-for-all. Even if a story-mode is selected, the choices are so vast that a map never plays out the same way twice, in a very similar fashion to a game of chess. With a first-person RPG like Fallout 3, the possibilities are equally endless. You can spend hours finding every enemy and weapon in the game, or you can trounce through the main plot quickly and only use what you need to complete the main storyline. With games like these, gameplay is three-dimensional as opposed to the linear-style games mentioned above. This format places the "art" in the hands of both the creator and player, as the author of the game will compose a world and and some rules, while the player decides what happens from that point forward.

Besides being a work of art in and of themselves, games provide a means of employing several art forms through a single medium. A higher-end game's musical score and voice acting play a major role in the perceieved effect, as do the visual elements and (possibly) intended realism. By looking at it this way, video games combine all of the art forms described earlier into a single compelling experience. Narrative, theater, music, and visual art are all equally important to a game released today. However, while this characteristic makes a game more viable on today's market, that in no way means that older, less aesthetically-appealing games aren't art. They were cutting edge for the time, and although things have improved they're still a solid piece of art. Some of those 8-bit music scores are nothing to scoff at!

Games are the next big push into the field of widely-accepted art, whether people like it or not. While many may consider gaming "low art" or even trash, one must consider the amount of dishonest, unoriginal trash found in the realms of music, film, and literature. Does said trash negate the entire field to which it belongs? Certainly not. With gaming, it's simply a newcomer to the world of art, and it's biggest challenge is to break through the notion of simply being entertainment into being culturally equal to film, music, etc. Games have already reached a point of being able to tug on emotions, tell stories, and critique society and the world. The point of breakthrough has come, and it's high time for gaming to leave its niche and find its way to the rest of the non-gaming world.

One With the Game

The bond between gamer and game runs deep, like the connection between old lady and soap opera. Players leave this plane to find themselves in a completely new world where they have input via sight and sound, as well as control over their surroundings and surrogate character. This leads to a strong integration with the imaginary task at hand, and players tend to find themselves completely swept away from reality.

"A Fool in Morrowind" was very interesting; it kind of pointed in the direction of "prose-gaming". It was almost like a fanfiction, except he was simply turning his actions in the game into a first-person narrative. Another cool aspect was that he incorporated even the unintentional gaming mistakes into his narrative, such as losing his pants and getting fined for attacking a horse. Although his story greatly leaned toward the humorous, it accurately depicted what happens in the game from a combined player/character perspective. That is, he's taking it seriously as though he was living the game, but injecting the sarcastic attitude a player would have toward a game's less-than-perfect elements. Good ol' Morgan Freeman.

Having never played KOTOR, John Walker's article put me into many of the ethical scenarios I faced when playing Fallout 3. It's downright painful to support the Slavers, assist Tenpenny, or blow up Megaton! Even though "it's just a game" and the characters can tend to be far from real, a choice is still a choice whether it has real-world or imaginary consequences, and going against your own moral grain can be uncomfortably abrasive. I was even relieved after receiving the Animal Friend perk so I wouldn't have to kill any more innocent critters, quelling my aching vegetarian ethic.

The article regarding a player's triumph over racism and evil via online gameplay was very compelling. It showed a person tackling a real-world issue through the means of a game with stakes involved- thirty minutes of life waiting for a respawn. He faced a completely unknown, faceless enemy that dealt the race card fervently, but he remained collected for the entire session and managed to bring down his attacker. The victory was highly personal and meant far more to him than a simple random encounter online.