Perfect game, but I’m not the same
In case you haven’t noticed, the hype machine driving tomorrow’s Xbox360 launch is in overdrive. The marketers know that guys like me — twentysomething reporters with a soft spot for tech toys — play a part in generating buzz. They get uncomfortably cozy in the weeks leading up to the roll- out.
For about a month, I’ve been bombarded with news releases, launch party updates, and invitations to give the device a test run. I received an Xbox 360 in the mail which, after I’d invited half the gamers in the city over to my place to play the thing, turned out to be just Xbox package containing a bag of Doritos and a two- litre bottle of Pepsi. But I don’t get too excited about these console launches anymore. I love video games, and it gives me pleasure watch the hardware and content become more sophisticated with each new generation. But the Xbox360 is going to be in our faces for the next six years. There will be plenty of time to get familiar with the thing. And the shrewd gamer looks at the long- term. He or she will wait for the price to drop, and to see how the 360’ s performance stacks up against the next generation of Sony and Nintendo consoles before getting worked up. Yeah right.
All it took to melt away the jadedness was an email.
I received an invitation from a public relations company to try out an advance copy of a new game called Perfect Dark Zero. The words hit me like N-Bomb (a subtle Perfect Dark reference). Memories of late nights with a controller glued to my hands flooded back to me. In a past life, I’d been addicted to the original Perfect Dark. My roommate and I lost two years to that damn game.
Dark, as we called it, was an elaborate game made for the Nintendo 64 platform. It was made by the same people who gave us the GoldenEye 007, the seminal James Bond shooter.
It didn’t matter that the Nintendo 64 didn’t have the best graphics or most furious processor power; Dark’s gameplay was brilliant. Up to four players could hunt each other down in dozens of insanely cool battle zones. Combat mode allowed us to customize the battle scenarios: you could form teams, design weapon sets, and create elaborate “capture the flag” missions.
Adding to all this was the fact that each weapon had a secondary function. By that I mean that a machine gun, for example, could fire bullets, but it could also be dropped on the ground as a proximity mine. You had to watch the other guy’s screen to see which rooms he’d boobytrapped. College was low- key, and roommate Mike and I were both broke. All we had in the world at that time were video games ( and a nice little program called Napster). Every night we’d do our schoolwork, pace around the house for a while, wash a couple dishes. Then someone would say, you wanna play some dark? To those who’ve never binged on a game, I can understand how all this might sound like antisocial behaviour — or some kind of pathetic geek- fest. But you’d be wrong. Mike Viglione and I bonded over that game, and we had a lot of laughs. Now that gaming is emerging as mainstream pastime, we need to start looking at it as a valid human experience, complete with the joys and struggles of other competitive endeavours.
Still, it’s probably a good thing the binge ended when it did. Eventually, we moved out and
moved on. New consoles came out, and
the Perfect Dark cartridge ended up in a
shoebox.
I asked Mike to join
me in sampling the
new version of the game. On the way to the venue, we talked about whether the new PDZ would be better than the original. We knew that the Xbox360’ s souped- up processor would be better- equipped to handle complex battle scenarios ( the original got bogged down.) We only played for about half an hour. We got off to a slow start, but once we’d figured out the controls, the action intensified. The weapons didn’t disappoint, neither did the environments. The graphics, as expected, were tighter and glossier than the original. The colours were vivid, and the sound was pristine. Based on the brief initial impression, Perfect Dark Zero is an improved incarnation. But as we left the building, it occurred to us that PDZ will never be as good as our Dark on the N64. Not because of the game, but because of who we were, and where we were in our lives when it came out. T
That was, and will always be, our game. PDZ is probably superior in every way, but it will never bring back the carefree days of youth. It will never erase the realities and responsibilities of adult life. We’ll never be able to binge like we did back then. But one of us will end up with an Xbox 360 in the next year or so. That’s an inevitability. It went unsaid, but I think we both knew full well that before long, we’ll meet up in front of a bigscreen, crank the techno music, and give it the old college try. Sneakernet scans the intersection of business, technology, and culture, every second Monday in Business. Reach Christopher Hutsul at chutsul@thestar.ca