Of Contrast and Thermonuclear War

Chapter 1: Contrast

Ever seen a noir film? The kind with stunning cinimatagraphy, with the contrast of light and dark emphasised, but with seemingly little distinction between the good and bad guys? Moral ambiguities aside, I find them facinating (Cowboy Bebop, my favorite anime and current aviatar source, could be consitered film noir).

Enter Limbo. Even if it exists only as a trailer currently, it exites me to no end. It is a simple little platforming game (think mario) from a small rag-tag group of hobbyists. What's so unique about it is it's art style: it's completly black and white. The trailer shows no soundtrack, only an ambiance that gives it such a unique feeling.

You see, when I subconesnly judge a game, I score it on three things: mechanics, story, and atmosphere (I find that they also apply to other art medias, if only in different forms). If two score high enough, the third can be ignored. For example, take any Final Fantasy game; next to no gameplay, but a long, involved story revolving around (sometimes) deep characters, but with little ambiance. Compare that to Half-Life, which had and such a strong ambiance that it bolstered the most clique of story-lines (aliens invade a secret goverment reserch lab! Oh Em Gee!) into the best I have ever had the privlage of experiencing.

You see, atmosphere gives the art (whatever it may be) a sticking power. It crafts a whole universe based upon the value-judgments inherent in the art, and allows the viewer (player) a chance to explore them long after the game ends.


Chapter Two: Thermonuclear War

War, with it's many facets, makes for great "entertainment". Weather it be the tragedy, or the drama, or the strategy, war has always fascinated those not involved(those who are in it, learn otherwise quickly).



This depressing intro is to introduce Defcon. Not the hacker convention, Defcon is the lastest from Introversion software, a small bunch of chaps that defy the gaming industy and produce original games and without getting intangled with large, developer-cosuming producers. In it, you play the as a general, hiding in a bunker somewhere, engaging in nuclear holacost.

As the game reminds you, "Everyone loses. But maybe, just maybe, you can lose the least." The manual even includes such helpful hints, such as how to build a fallout shelter, and sugestes that you should make it last for 14 days. Why 14 days? "After being couped up with family members for that long," says the manual, "you might wish that your shelter was not as effective as it was." Dark humor indeed, but I'm twisted enough to find it funny.

But once again, what might just be a simple stratagy game is taken to higher levels by it's atmosphere. The background audio is sounds like you are in bunker, with fans humming, and chrackled voiced echoing over radios down caverenous hallways. Slow, somber notes of "Adeago for Strings" can be heard, as can muffled sobs. Even if the mechanics is so purposly detached from the reality (the distruction of whole populations are reduced to points, announced as "London hit, 16.3 mil dead".) It's easily the most somber game I've ever played. Even the victories feel hollow, even ironic. How can I win if over 70 million of my population is dead, and 100's of million dead elsewhere?

Nevertheless, I still enjoy it. Not in a sick sense, but in the sense that I enjoy reading one of shakespears tragadies. I enjoy it not because of the simulated massacure, but because it makes me contemplate it. The atmosphere makes me think of far more then silo and sub fleet placements, it makes me contemplate what would happen if the buttons were pressed (I've been in the real simulators used to train our missile men, so its even more creepy for me).