No Objections Except the Good Kind: Miike Takashi’s Ace Attorney

Last week was the beginning of the Rotterdam International Film Festival, and with it came the international premiere of Miike Takashi’s film, Ace Attorney, or “Gyakuten Saiban” as it’s known in Japanese. Based on Capcom’s video game franchise of the same name, Ace Attorney follows a bumbling wet-behind-the-ears defense attorney named Phoenix Wright and is quest to figure out the truth behind a string of murders leading back 15 years (and defend his clients along the way) using a combination of wit, courage, and irrefutable evidence. Opposite him is prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, a former friend of Phoenix’s from childhood whose ruthless approach to justice is a far cry from both Phoenix’s ways and how he used to be.

(Note that the film was English-subtitled with the official English-language names, so I’ll be referring to the characters as such (Phoenix Wright instead of Naruhodo Ryuuichi).)

The Ace Attorney video games utilize a very “anime” aesthetic, and for anyone who saw the preview images or the trailer, the first thing that stands out is the fact that all of the characters’ costumes and even the sets are very close to the original source. Phoenix looks like he practically stepped out of the tiny DS screen, and when someone wins a court case in the film, even the way the background actors clap like stock animation looks like it came straight out of the games. However, what isn’t so obvious from the previews is the fact that, while the faithfulness of the dress results in distinctly spiky hair, frilly collars, and unique color combinations, the actual colors of the backgrounds and even the clothing itself are quite subdued. Phoenix Wright’s suit may be blue, but it’s a very toned-down blue that is a far cry from the bright, primary colors that mark the video games, and rather than clashing with the anime elements in the film, the more realistic use of color actually helps to bridge the gap between the iconic anime elements and the use of live actors. Whereas the original games’ aesthetic presents a world and motif unto itself, with the way the film looks there is a sense that our world could possibly someday turn into the larger-than-life world of Ace Attorney, however small those chances are.

In a way, this gives the film a rather prominent science fictional element, as if it’s asking, “What if the criminal justice system were like this?” Indeed, Ace Attorney even presents the unique gameplay of the video games (using evidence to find contradictions in witness testimony) as a transformation of Japan’s court system. In the story of the Ace Attorney film, the Japanese government has set up a new judicial method in order to deal with the increased amount of criminal cases. This “Bench Trial” is a court where evidence is king and which must conclude after a maximum of 3 days, giving both prosecution and defense a limited amount of time to make their cases before the judge (not a jury) makes a verdict. Moreover, in this court, evidence is presented in the form of Minority Report-esque holographic projections, flown to the center of the courtroom through the signature cries of “Objection!”, “Take That!”, and “Hold It!”, helping to bolster that larger-than-life feel. Just in case I’m giving the impression that the film is mainly serious business though, I have to point out that the movie will make the occasional sudden tonal shift like in a Tezuka manga in order to lighten the mood (and succeeds in doing so without disrupting the pacing of the movie).

The storyline and court cases of Ace Attorney is familiar to anyone who played the original, though it combines a few of them together, both for the sake of time and for all of the characters involved to have their own denouements by the end. As I have played those games and thus pretty much knew how the cases would go, I cannot comment on whether or not the narrative events of the film would be a surprise or difficult to figure out for someone new to the series. However, what I can say is that the actors do a very good job of portraying their characters, conveying a strong sense of both their personalities and their approaches to handling trials. For me, the two most outstanding performances in the film are by Phoenix Wright’s actor Narimiya Hiroki and by Ishibashi Ryou, who plays the wily veteran Manfred von Karma. Narimiya does an excellent job portraying Wright as a very clever and observant but inexperienced attorney; when he sees evidence of a clear contradiction, you can see him struggling to connect the dots that he knows have to be there, gradually forcing the words out until the crucial element comes to the surface of his mind. Ishibashi meanwhile comes across almost perfectly as a man who cannot be fazed, a man with a 40-year undefeated prosecution record, and who can even take some of the anime mannerisms from the game and actually make them look perfectly natural. If that isn’t amazing, I don’t know what it is.

Overall, the Ace Attorney movie is fun and exciting, and never feels all that awkward combining the anime aesthetic with the live-action atmosphere. While fans of the game will almost certainly enjoy it, I think people unfamiliar with the franchise and even people have been turned off by Miike’s work in the past (perhaps due to their ultra-violence) have a very strong possibility of coming out of the theater satisfied.

One thing that made this showing of Ace Attorney special was that Miike himself was in attendance. Before the film began, there was a 15-minute interview session with the director where he spoke about this film as well as his experience in filmmaking in general. Miike had actually last visited the Rotterdam International Film Festival 12 years ago with Ichi the Killer and some other movies, and he claims that the extremely positive reaction he received in Rotterdam back then was actually the launching point for his international success and why he’s able to do bigger-budget movies today. He spoke about his use of extreme violence not for the sake of violence but to show the strong emotions which drive his characters, and his desire to make films which surprise himself (something I find he has in common with the creative process of Getter Robo and Devilman creator Nagai Go). He also showed great respect for the original source material of Ace Attorney, but pointed out that a good deal had to be done to convert that game format to a film. I have to say that he did a good job in that regard, transferring the excitement of figuring out the cases as a player to watching the characters work to reach their conclusions.

After the interview was over, the person next to me turned to me and asked, “Spreekt u Nederlands?” After I responded “Nee,” we then had the following conversation:

“What was that word he said, ‘man…gu?'”

“Manga.”

“Yes, manga. What is that?”

“It’s Japanese comics.”

“Oh, like Pikachu.”

“Yes, like Pikachu.”

Like Pikachu, indeed.

Kind of Lumpy But Also Swell: Abobo’s Big Adventure

Double Dragon for the NES is a game that somewhat exemplifies the 8-bit era of video games. Lacking the multiplayer co-op of the original arcade, the game makes up for it with a combination of tight controls and absurd glitches. Whether it’s beating up on an invisible enemy for experience, watching an enemy fall through solid rock, or defeating opponents by climbing up or down until you can’t see them anymore, it had that right amounts of notorious difficulty and sheer fun. It’s with this spirit in mind that Abobo’s Big Adventure was developed, and as one of many who grew up with games of the NES generation, I decided to try it out when it debuted last week. Starring the physically largest enemy in Double Dragon, the game is an elaborate homage to that era, packed with references to an almost innumerable amount of games.

The (very) basic story has Abobo going through various worlds, from Mario to Pro Wrestling, all in order to rescue his son, and the cut-scenes often make light of the fact that Abobo is an unlikely hero, being a boss character originally. In this regard, I find Abobo’s Big Adventure to be at its best when it fulfills more than just an itch for the Nintendo days of yore and actively makes you feel like you’re controlling a beefy “master” (remember when bosses were sometimes called masters?) whose normal job is to make a protagonist regret his path in life. The first stage, a remake of the original Mission 1 from the NES Double Dragon, has Abobo giving nasty overhead chops which take out giant chunks of health in a way a puny martial artist’s spin kicks never could. Stage 3 pits Abobo against one of the characters from rudimentary fighting game Urban Champion, only the situation is entirely unwinnable by the opponent. Try as he he might, the poor “Urban Champ’s” fists cannot make a dent in Abobo’s rock-hard abs. Obviously the difficulty in this section is absolutely zero, but NES homages don’t always have to be about “NES-difficulty,” and it provides a feeling similar to the Wario games, where Wario bowls over enemies where Mario would typically lose lives and in doing so shows how much tougher he is by comparison. The final stage may be the epitome of expressing the power of Abobo, as it literally sets you in the boss position against a good guy in a scenario I think many fans of video games have wondered about for years.

On the flip-side, the biggest shortcoming of Abobo’s Big Adventure is that in some stages it just feels like the original game with an Abobo skin on top. The Zelda and Mega Man sections are especially bad at this, as they do not even bother to give Abobo anything functionally special, other than increased health. Giving the massive Abobo the ability to walk through solid doors in the Zelda level for instance would’ve been a way to emphasize his power and girth. The Mega Man level brings in the infamous Quick Man lasers, and Abobo is just as vulnerable to them as anyone else (i.e. he dies instantly). While I understand something of a desire to be faithful to the originals, these examples could have used as much care as the other parts of the game.

Overall, I think the game is worth a shot, especially given that it’s absolutely free and can be put down at any time. It has a good deal of heart in it, and that shows more prominently in some parts than others.

Double Dragons vs. Abobo

Check out this exciting fight!

Playstation Edible

Late November-Early December is the fun time for kids in the Netherlands, as that is when Sinterklaas, Santa Claus’s badass Dutch counterpart comes riding into the country from his home in the North Pole Spain, first by steam ship, then by white horse. Part of the festivities involve giving children chocolate, notably in the form of alphabet letters, but what this also means is that once Sinterklaas Day passes (December 5th), there is a sudden discount on chocolate all over the country in a fashion similar to the day-after-Valentine’s.

And so, I found this rare item (at 50% off!):

I must say, your PSP might play the latest games and possibly have connectivity with your PS3 through some kind of cloud storage system. It might entertain you on a bus or train ride for hours on end. But, is your screen made of white chocolate?

I didn’t think so.

The Potentially Positive Influence of Public Relationships in the Starcraft 2 Pro Scene

The release of Starcraft 2 last year has caused something of a boom in competitive video gaming, referred to in the community as “ESPORTS.” More and more, professional gamers around the world are becoming stars, and along the way the fact (or impression) that they’re “nerds” is celebrated; to be a nerd is to be smart and talented and even handsome. Made prominent is the idea that nerds can be attractive to the opposite sex, that these (mostly male) keyboard athletes have an appeal attached to their passion and drive for victory.  This is not a new concept, as is evident in the gigantic Korean Brood War scene and the fact that based on the screams of the audience you might assume that it’s John Lennon playing from that soundproof booth. However, a major difference is that while Brood War shows its players as owners of large female fanbases, competitive Starcraft 2 is showcasing couples far more prominently, both inside and outside of Korea.

Whereas Brood War pros will avoid answering the question of significant others (or will mention girls they once dated), Starcraft 2 pros seem much more willing to admit that they are seeing someone. Moreover, Starcraft 2‘s has what can be described as “power couples,” well-publicized relationships where both individuals are a part of the scene. Evil Geniuses captain Geoff “iNcontroL” Robinson and Miss Oregon 2011 Anna Prosser, Startale captain Kim “RainBOw” Sung Je and his fellow teammate Kim “aphrodite” Ga Young, player/caster Trevor “TorcH” Housten and WCG Ultimate Gamer Rachel “SeltzerPlease” Quirico, Terran Emperor Lim “SlayerSBoxeR” Yo Hwan and actress Kim “Jessica” Ga Yeon, all are major examples of the public relationships that populate the Starcraft 2 community.

Part of this may simply have to do with the higher average age of Starcraft 2 pros vs. their Brood War counterparts. Where 20 might be considered an aged veteran in Brood War, some of the most talented and well-known Starcraft 2 players are approaching or even past their 30s, and with that comes possibly a sense of maturity and stability. It is also well-known that dating is frowned upon for Brood War pros for fear that it might distract them too much from the game, and no such taboo exists for Starcraft 2. While there are prominent married figures in Brood War such as Choi “iloveoov” Yun Sung, BoxeR’s former teammate and one of the most dominant players of all time, and Kim “January” Ga Eul, manager of the team Samsung KHAN, neither of them were active players when their significant others were made public. The “sex appeal” of the young Brood War player seems to be more along the lines of a K-Pop star whose relationship status is intentionally ambiguous to draw in more fans.

The reason that I am pointing all of this out is not to foster gossip about who’s dating who or to draw attention away from the games themselves, but to posit the idea that perhaps that seeing these relationships can potentially promote a different kind of lifestyle image for the nerds of the world. Rather than being a hit with the ladies, the professional nerd can be a hit with the woman of his life. You, yes you, can find a woman who will not only condone your geek lifestyle but will understand and actively support it. More than just an aspiration, the power couples of Starcraft 2 provide concrete examples that this is an attainable goal.  What is also clear, especially from the examples given above, is that these couples are not together solely because of an individual’s skill when it comes to their game of choice, but because of their character. In this way, progamers may act as role models in more ways than one.

Reading into the Negative Responses Against Phoenix Wright in Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3

Phoenix Wright was recently announced as a character for Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3, and his reception from fans of MvC3 has been an interesting mix of unbridled enthusiasm and indignant anger. I find the latter to be particularly interesting because of how the criticisms from fans are being formed verbally and what it says about how a game like Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 is perceived by its audience on an aesthetic level.

Before we start though, I have to say that I do not know what percentage of fans actually dislike Phoenix Wright’s participation in this game. Whether they are a “vocal minority” or not matters little, as it is more about the reaction of that group in particular.

First off, let’s take a look at some of the comments critical of Wright as a Capcom representative:

“Im not hating at all, the game looks legit I just can’t believe that non-sense was allowed in and not a more traditional fighting game character”

“Phoenix Wright is the most awkward fighting game character I’ve ever seen. Fuck that guy. I hope he’s top tier and everyone ends up using him ’cause he’s so stupid, LMAO.

Nova on the other hand, now that’s a real character. Dude is a beast! He’s like a better Phoenix (non-Dark).”

“I agree, Phoenix Wright feels out of place here, and makes me feel like I want to throat up or something. What a crappy pick, should of been Captain Commando. We already have a Capcom joke character, his name is Frank West and he’s better than Phoenix Wrong lol.”

[In reference to a an attack Phoenix Wright uses in the trailer and the argument that Tron is a joke character too ] “Tron hits ppl, not sneezes on them”

etc.

All of them say essentially the same thing. A) character who is not a fighter an does absolutely nothing resembling combat in his own game should not be in Marvel vs. Capcom 3. B) The humor-based interpretation of his “fighting” style for UMvC3 is a slight against the game itself.

At this point, it would be easy to dismiss these statements with a couple of arguments, but those arguments have problems in and of themselves. The first is the idea that “gameplay is the only thing that really matters, so it’s not relevant if Phoenix Wright fits with the rest of the cast or not as long as he’s a strong character who can create interesting gameplay.” For Marvel vs. Capcom 3, how the game controls and whether or not it’s competitively viable are, while important to its success as a game, are obviously not the only factors in presenting it to the world and its audience. If gameplay were the only relevant component, then it wouldn’t be a crossover of a comic book company and a video game company using iconic characters from their respective libraries. Although it is easy to disagree with people who think Phoenix Wright is too ridiculous for the game (and I do disagree with them), it is besides the point to argue from a primarily theoretical game mechanics perspective.

The second is the idea that “the game is already ridiculous putting up some kung fu guys against ancient gods and beings with the power to rip the Earth in half, so why draw the line at a goofy lawyer?” But while Marvel vs. Capcom 3 (and the entire rest of the Vs. game series) does bring together a cast of characters whose powers and abilities can be horribly mismatched, it does not negate the fact that Phoenix Wright is indeed not a martial artist or in possession of superhuman abilities. A punch is a punch and can be made as strong as necessary, whereas Wright has to use something else entirely.

I think the idea that a fighting game should have “characters that fight” is an interesting one in that MvC3 becomes a sort of haven for a particular type of masculinity, a place where a (presumably male) player can feel comfortable in knowing that the setting and its character will not betray them aesthetically. This is not a coincidence, as the look of Marvel vs. Capcom 3 is masculine and powerful in a way that is particularly appealing to American audiences. This is easily seen when comparing it to its sibling, Tatsunoko vs. Capcom, whose anime influence gives a somewhat softer look to even the most square-jawed and chiseled of warriors. But Phoenix Wright apparently violates that security; to the people critical of his inclusion for the reasons outlined above, he demeans the game he’s being included in because he ends up mocking the aggressive portrayal of competition. Wright risks emasculating part of the game’s audience, somewhat like the entire Arcana Heart series minus the overt sexuality aspect that is near-unavoidable with that franchise.

Again, I do not know what percentage of people playing games feels this way, but I do have to wonder how much this affects a certain portion of gamers’ decisions in which games to pursue. Are games like Call of Duty and Halo even more indicative of this mindset? If so, it may bear taking a look at how and why men look to games to affirm their masculinity.

The Perception of Balance in RTS and Fighting Game Communities

This post was originally a reply to someone asking about the differences in how the fighting games community and the real-time strategy community perceive the concept of “balance” in a competitive game, and why that would be the case.

My skills and experience lie neither in RTS or fighting games (though I have played both), so I can’t offer any particulars about why balance is regarded differently in their respective communities, but I think it is worth thinking about with more fighting games than just SF4, even if it is the biggest one right now.

I think it might be good to take a look at a couple of fighting games whose tiers are considered to be relatively balanced in two rather different ways. The first is the Virtua Fighter series, a game with a Brood War-like (outside of Korea) reputation, a very difficult game that is considered by its proponents to be more exquisitely refined than any other fighting game out there. According to this, the tier list for the latest iteration, VF5: Final Showdown comes out as the following:

“S: Akira
A: Lau, Jacky, Taka, Lion
B: Everyone else

That’s quite close! Even if one character is considered by far the best, no one is considered to have anything close to a “failing grade.” The message from this tier list is indeed “Imbalances exist in this game but it’s close enough that anybody can win with anyone.” Also perhaps important to note is that VF is considered a series where you do not have time to master more than one character because of how complex they can be. This might mean that, like SC2, switching characters/races is considered to be too time-consuming to be worth it.

Let’s look at another game’s tier list: Hokuto no Ken (Fist of the North Star).

S++ : Rei
S+ : Toki – Juda
S : Raoh
A : Kenshiro / Thouther / Shin / Mamiya / Heart
B : Jagi

While there are now 5 ranks instead of 3, rather than call Jagi “D” tier and Rei “S” tier, they give the distinction of having them be “B” and “S++.” The distinction here is that while some characters are good, others are GREAT. The reason why HnK’s tiers are the way they are is that every character in this game has 100% combos and infinites. In any other fighting game, they would be brutally S-rank. However, in HnK, the top characters simply have more 100% combos and more ways to successfully land them. It is considered so imbalanced that it is balanced.

When talking to people who have played both of those games, I find that the main thing they have in common for why they are considered to be as balanced as they are is that all of the characters always have a good amount of options at any point in the fight. There is always more than one way to win. In a fighting game then, a character with consistently few options is always at a distinct disadvantage unless there is something else to greatly counterbalance that.

I think that the key difference between the Real Time Strategy and the Fighting Game, and why in the former the community is quick to say “things are unexplored” and in the latter people are eager to immediately lock in “tier lists,” is how time factors into the strength of your race/character. Consider that, outside of super meter, in SF4 a character’s strengths and weaknesses at 1 second into the match are about the same as in 50 seconds into the match. A character still has the same tools no matter where you place them in time. In SC2 however, time plays an enormous factor. Building your 10th SCV earlier rather than later does different things to the strength of your army. Losing a single SCV early on is much more detrimental than losing a single SCV in the mid or late game. Building particular units at different times affects the strength of a race tremendously, as does attacking with them. Options fluctuate tremendously based on when decisions are made, and an early disadvantage can ripple forward in time. This is often referred to as a “slippery slope,” where once one starts falling behind it becomes tremendously difficult to make it back. All the same though, that disadvantage can be potentially mitigated by a different timing altogether.

So the difference between having a constant, unchanging set of options and one that changes over time based on your own decisions are why I think that “balance” is approached differently by the fighting game community and the RTS community. Fighting game players can look at the tools a character has and determine how they will do at any point in the fight, and from there they can determine tiers and even be comfortable with the idea of imbalance, even early on in the game’s life. RTS players though have to factor in the timing of their decisions affecting the very strength of their army itself (and the ability to sustain that army), and that added variable is what makes the game feel so “unexplored” and difficult to determine the balance of.

Mario Shoryukens Luigi: Ura Tougeki, Tournament of Under-Kings

It is well known by mankind that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The fighting game community is no exception, and if there exists an ultimate fighting game tournament in Japan, there must exist a mirrored counterpart. While Tougeki, the Super Battle Opera, exists on one end of the spectrum, on the other is Ura Tougeki, the Reverse Tower Opera.

If you’re wondering, there’s a kanji pun there between Tou (闘 Battle) and Tou (塔 Tower).

So if Tougeki features either the latest and/or greatest games, your Super Street Fighter IV: AE‘s and King of Fighters XIII‘s, Ura Tougeki picks the most obscure and broken fighting games it can, games that aren’t fighting games but get manipulated to act like them anyway, and a few literal button mashers.

Each iteration of Ura Tougeki begins with an Outfoxies tournament and ends with Street Fighter II: Rainbow Edition. The Outfoxies is a weird Smash Bros.-esque game that actually predates Smash Bros, and which I discussed previously as an example of an unorthodox fighting game, while SFII Rainbow is Street Fighter II on crack where Blanka’s rolling attacks can go so high as to loop back to the bottom of the screen and what-not.

Those are far and away the highlights of Ura Tougeki, but aside from those I have some particular favorites as well.

The first is Mario Bros., as in the old multi-player arcade game. Whereas the goal in a typical game of Mario Bros. is to defeat all the opponents, the objective of competitive Mario Bros. is to force your opponent to die 3 times and get a game over after 3 rounds, or at least have a higher score. Few things are more exciting than watching Mario punch the platform underneath Luigi and bump him into a fireball while the announcer shouts, “WHAT A SHORYUKEN!”

The second is Hyper Olympics, the first game in a series better known as Track & Field outside of Japan. There’s a certain sense of schadenfreude watching people fail at the ridiculously difficult Hammer Throw section, and overall the tournament is surprisingly exciting. That said, only one Ura Tougeki so far has featured it.

The third is Ice Climber, because the game is absolutely merciless to those who have just lost a life because of how the screen-scrolling works. This game is indeed multi-player.

The Bishi Bashi Champ series is essentially Wario Ware in gameplay.

I’ve included the playlists of all four existing official Ura Tougeki. If you don’t have a Nico Nico Douga account, you can use Nicofire to watch them without one.

So what are you waiting for? Let’s watch some Tower Opera!!

Ura Tougeki 1: The Outfoxies, Samurai Spirits Zero (aka Samurai Sho-Down V) Special, Super Bishi Bashi Champ, Street Fighter II: Rainbow Edition

Ura Tougeki 2: The Outfoxies, Hyper Olympics (aka Track & Field), Hyper Bishi Bashi Champ, Soul Calibur III AE, Ashura Blade, Samurai Spirits Zero Special, Mario Bros., Street Fighter II: Rainbow Edition

Ura Tougeki 3: The Outfoxies, Hyper Bishi Bashi Champ, Mario Bros., Soul Calibur III AE, Astro Superstars, Ice Climber, Shooting Technical Skills Test, Street Fighter II: Rainbow Edition

Ura Tougeki 4: The Outfoxies, Azumanga Daioh Puzzle Bobble, Soul Calibur III AE, Samurai Spirits Zero Special, Hyper Bishi Bashi Champ, Ice Climber, Cyberbots, Mario Bros., Street Fighter II: Rainbow Edition

The Skill Mezzanine

Over the past few years, there has been an upswing in video games geared for competition (or at least modified to be competitive). Starcraft 2, Street Fighter IV, the new Mortal Kombat, the concept of “eSports” is managing to achieve more success around the world than had been seen previously, with the notable exception of South Korea where Starcraft competition already managed to achieve a good deal of competitive success.

Many of these new games are sequels, and they emerge in a gaming environment far different from their predecessors. In some cases, as with Starcraft and Marvel vs. Capcom, it’s been over a decade since their most immediate ancestors. Online play has filled the long void that was left by the death of arcades. Facebook games and other bits of entertainment which fall under the heading of “casual” have made video games a common part of many people’s lives. There are now more people playing video games than in previous decades, but many of them do not devote themselves to games, particularly ones that foster competition. One of the results of this has been a move towards easier controls, reducing the number of things to do, simplifying actions, increasing the influence of random chance, and just making games where people can more easily feel like they’re accomplishing something.

In doing so however, there is a backlash created among those communities, because what this means is that, compared to those older games, they seem a little…softer. More forgiving. This in turn can be interpreted as an affront to the competitive spirit, especially for those games which dare to call themselves competitive, because it is giving a break to the weaker players. Many times, criticism will come in the form of questioning a game’s “skill ceiling.” The argument goes that if a game is less demanding on a fundamental level, it will result in a game where the best of the best will be unable to distinguish themselves from the masses more commonly known as “the rest.” Certainly this scenario is not out of the question, but what I’d argue is that those critical of these games’ skill ceilings often misuse the term and that they’re arguing against something quite different. For if the “skill ceiling” is the absolute limits of competitive skill, and the “skill floor” is the bare minimum to even understanding the game, then what those people are really arguing against is the lowering of a kind of “skill mezzanine,” the first space up from the skill floor and the minimum amount of skill needed to compete and win matches against others who are also trying to do the same.

“One guy was clearly making more mistakes than the other but he still won. This game is awful.” Putting aside the fact that weaker competitors are often capable of beating stronger ones simply because of how “skill” is nebulous and but one of many factors in competition (mental state being an arguably more important one), such an argument can be summarized by the idea that the game is too forgiving of mistakes, and that because a weaker player is more prone to errors, it rewards them unfairly. But a game that punishes mistakes less is not the sign of a lowered skill ceiling so much as it is evidence of a lowered skill mezzanine, and this is because even if the best players are the ones who are closest to touching the ceiling, the players worse than them do not have to aim for that ceiling as well. Their goal could simply be to touch the feet of those better players, and a more forgiving game means that they can accomplish such a task more easily, no matter how high the ceiling may be.

The higher the skill mezzanine however, the tougher it is for people to reach basic competitive competency, which has the effect of weeding out less devoted players. What remains, if numbers are sufficient (and there is always the danger of that not happening for a game), is that the only people left are the ones who have been able to overcome some very unforgiving limitations.

One of the consequences of mistaking the skill mezzanine for the skill ceiling is that people conflate the concept of game limitations that were overcome through skill with the idea that game limitations necessarily generate skill. Veteran Starcraft competitor and commentator Sean “Day 9” Plott often emphasizes that imposing restrictions can be a useful method for improving one’s gameplay. In that sense, the rules of a particular game can be seen as a forced limitation rather than a self-imposed one. But it is also a mistake to believe that those specific limitations should be the standard by which all other games are judged, to confuse the concept of limitation with the particulars of execution. Soccer is the most popular sport in the world, and is praised for the amount of mental and physical skill required to play it at a high level. One of the most basic rules, the one that gives soccer its internationally more popular name of “football,” is that a player is normally not allowed to touch the ball with their hands. This simple yet profound limitation (hands being vitally important to the survival of humankind) encouraged people to find ways to move the ball with the rest of their body, and as the game has developed over the course of generations, soccer players discover new methods and refine them. But one cannot say that, because soccer developed into “the beautiful game” in part due to the limitations on hands, that all other ball sports should also ban the use of hands.

There is nothing inherently wrong with criticizing a game’s capacity for competition, because there are games that are objectively more competitive than others. Chess is far more complex than tic-tac-toe. One game can indeed have a lower skill ceiling than the other. But I think it is important for people critical of a game’s skill ceiling to be able to distinguish between it and the skill mezzanine in order to discuss a game’s competitiveness.

Showdown! At! The Internet! Pokemon Battling Nostalgia Ramblings

I’ve recently been talking to an old friend in the competitive Pokemon community, and I was surprised to find out that he and other people I knew from back in the day were still playing competitively. In fact, a bunch of them are going to the Pokemon Video Game Championships this year in Indiana, and though I definitely can’t make it, it’s kind of re-lit the fire in me to do something with Pokemon, especially when I’ve seen what he’s been up to.

Known in the Pokemon communiy as Fish, his team is the one on top, if you want to see some intense and exciting turn-based combat.

At the very least, I want to have a well-conceived team or two around in case anyone wants to battle me. I don’t know how long it’ll take me, especially because I haven’t even opened my copy of Pokemon Black yet, but I think it’ll be a worthwhile endeavor.

I definitely want to use Durant, as I’ve been waiting for an ant Pokemon since the original games.

Thinking back on my years of playing Pokemon, I began to reminisce about the original RBY era and its competitive scene. I talked a little bit about RBY-style battling here, but I’m not sure if my description did it justice in terms of how unique RBY battling turned out to be, relative to subsequent generations of Pokemon. RBY was the era where the only way to cure a status ailment was through the use of Rest, when every Pokemon could have all of its stats maxed out to their personal best. The result was a game where Pokemon were neither overly frail nor excessively defensive.

The best example I can think of is a scenario where one player is switching in a weakened Rhydon on a weakened, paralyzed Alakazam. Alakazam could have predicted a switch and thrown out a Thunder Wave to paralyze the incoming Pokemon, but because Rhydon is immune to electric attacks, it can effectively block the Thunder Wave and avoid its paralyzing effects. From there, a fight which would normally be won by Alakazam’s superior speed and nasty Psychic attack has a different consequence, as paralysis reduces Alakazam’s speed by 75%, well below Rhydon’s, and so now Rhydon has the first shot, and its superior attack does tremendous damage to Alakazam’s poor defenses, possibly to the point of knocking it out. But if Alakazam decides to switch out, Rhydon can throw down a Substitute for 1/4 of its health to take damage for it while it Earthquakes from a safe position. The permanency of paralysis is key here, as in later generations status ailments can simply be whisked away by the effects of moves such as Heal Bell and Aromatherapy.

RBY was by no means a balanced game in terms of diversity. Only about 10-15 Pokemon were considered viable for competition (barring Mewtwo and Mew, who were usually banned due to being way, way, way too good), but it had a certain kind of intensity that wasn’t quite present in later games, and it’s something I wouldn’t mind coming back, though I know it’ll never happen.

When people lament changes in sequels despite the fact that the original game’s system was the result of various limitations and oversights, I can relate to knowing that something is unreasonable and yet still feeling that it’s right. I’m not going to talk down the other generations of Pokemon Battling, though. There’s always a special place in my heart for that original 151, but I still look forward to having fun with a list that is now 646 creatures long.