In a turn of events
that’s pretty rare these days, I actually finished a video game last weekend
two weeks ago relatively recently. The game in question is Child of
Light, an independent RPG developed by Ubisoft Montreal in 2014. I quite
enjoyed it, but for all the parts I liked, there were some I was indifferent
towards, and some that outright frustrated me. Polarizing experiences such as
these are always more interesting to write about. So much so, that this article
had to be split into multiple parts! Next week is going to be about the game’s
writing. The article after that will tackle the game’s combat. As for right now?
Everything else. But specifically, we’re going to start with...
Uplay
Before I talk about the actual game itself, there's something that needs
addressing. Child of Light is by a team at Ubisoft Montreal. I have no doubt
that the team themselves are wonderful people who donate to charity and rescue
buses full of drowning orphans on a daily basis. Unfortunately, their company
affiliation means the game is tied to Uplay. This is like stapling partially
decomposed roadkill to a cut of filet mignon. And the roadkill tries to sell
you things.
Over a decade ago, Valve decided that digital games were the wave of the
future, and they formed Steam. It had plenty of issues, some of which have been
ironed out over time and some of which have not. But issues aside, it turned
there were a ton of advantages to digital games like convenience, lower
production costs and easier impulse buying. These quickly made the service
rich. Only several years ago did game companies start fumbling into their own
digital storefronts to compete with Steam. They were universally worse than
their long-running counterpart, and are basically kept on life support by
holding good games hostage. I can't think of a clear parallel to this before
digital sales. Aladdin didn't require viewing through the official Disney Video
Player. Lord of the Rings wasn't printed on parchment only visible to Barnes
and Noble customers. This exclusivity is one of the most frustrating things
about digital stores.
Of course, there are a number of OTHER reasons why people hate non-Steam
digital storefronts. The first and most obvious being: They already have
Steam. To buy games from a different digital store, you have to create a
different login and keep juggling it on the side. The whole thing would be
easier on you if they just put the game on Steam in the first place. Therefore,
it was on the shoulders of these new digital stores to provide incentive to put
in extra effort for them. Instead of doing that, they proceeded to be worse
than Steam in every measurable way. They had sketchy and unsettling license
agreements. They had less frequent and less drastic sales. And of course, they
had a tiny tiny fraction of the games library and users that Steam already
had.
Though their pace is downright glacial, some of these stores are graduating
from "an active and horrible nuisance" to "a passable experience
assuming nothing goes wrong". For example, EA’s Origin store started
offering game refunds before anyone else and...I can’t actually think of
another positive example of a non-Steam storefront. But they probably exist!
Uplay has none of them, however. This brings us to Child of Light. I purchased
Child of Light on Steam. What the Steam version didn’t mention is that it ALSO
required Uplay, which I had to install entirely for it. Every time the game
launches I also have to launch Uplay. For the purposes of research, I checked
Uplay to see if it could offer me anything of value in exchange for its
parasitic existence. I found a hollow husk of a storefront emptier and more
depressing than my social calendar.
This is the entirety of the Uplay main page. I don’t
even know how to access the store, I think they offloaded it to another site.
This would be sad if it weren’t so pointless and terrible.
Basically, something pretending to be a service offers nothing of value to
the consumer while making their existing experience less pleasant. It’s like if
a clown spent his work day wandering the amusement park stealing lollipops from
children. Maybe that’s not the best example, because by default clowns have
slightly less fans than colon cancer, but...actually wait, that’s the perfect
example. Screw Uplay. Now let’s get to the game already.
Art
I've never claimed to be an expert in the field of visual arts. Until
several years ago when I started dipping my toes in it, I'd say I was the last
person to ask about it. But you don't get better at anything, whether it be art
or criticism, by avoiding it. So I'm going to attempt to explain in more
granularity than normal why the visuals in Child of Light are fantastic.
Because make no mistake, this is an intensely gorgeous game from start to
finish. Even if my comments will seem basic to anyone with half an art
background, it deserves the extra analysis.
The world of Child of Light is a fantasy fairy tale, and the visuals aptly
express both the whimsy of the latter and the, well, fantastic of the former. The
whole game is like stepping inside a elegantly and patiently crafted watercolor
painting. There is a ridiculous array of colors on display here, and yet used
in very defined context. They don't just unload a rainbow dump truck onto the
canvas or pump up the saturation. Each individual area has a more limited range
of colors to convey specific mood, and the colors they choose blend together
magnificently in a way I lack the specific vocabulary to describe.
Look at this magnificent god damn title screen. The
ENTIRE GAME looks like that! You even start the game in the same spot.
The game also features an extremely varied selection of environments for an
indie game. There are frightening forests, serene skies, parched plains,
crumbling cathedrals, stormy seas, combustible caverns and more. Over the
course of the game you're sure to see every color of the rainbow and many in
between. But because the palettes are carefully constrained to defined areas it
never feels overwhelming or distracting. The areas are all thematically clear
and pleasingly composed. Sure some of them seem a bit stereotypical for a
fantasy adventure. But I'm fairly certain people don't look at the Sistine
Chapel and say: "Bah, what's the big deal? It's just some religious
painting in a church, people have done that a million times before!"
“Pbbth, a painstakingly crafted image of pure wonder
and joy? Lots of people do those, and I’ve been feeling joy since I first barfed
on my parents at age 0.2! Where’s the INNOVATION?!”
Another reason why the art is so appealing is because it has a proper
understanding of contrast. Shading and outlines are balanced such that nothing
bleeds together and each object feels visually distinct from those next to it.
Things POP in Child of Light. It's easy to tell what's in the foreground, and a
layer behind that, and a layer behind that, and so on down to interesting
landmarks in the far off distance. The backgrounds are all two-dimensional, but
an expert use of these techniques makes them come alive, all without
distracting from the action you need to focus on.
Note that
this area is almost all the same color. Despite this, everything feels
carefully arranged so that you can see crisp delineation between different
objects and areas.
For a little contrast (heh) from the above, take a
look at this screenshot from Fallout 3. There's actually WAY more variety in
the scenery in this image, but despite that the colors are similar, washed out
and have a filter slapped on top. The result is something that looks less
appealing and more confusing, despite the fact that it has more going on.
Character design is also a point in the game's favor. The characters in
Child of Light are detailed and colorful, with a plethora of little touches
gracing their outfits. The game features close-up shots when two characters are
talking and these display a great deal of personality and emotion. But despite
all this detail they all have striking silhouettes. Bar one palette swap party
member, it's easy to identify any of them at a distance and they're even
displayed as silhouette head-shots when switching party members. In other
words, the characters show interesting complexity while still being easily and
instantly identifiable.
An example of the game’s close-up character
portraits. No I don’t know why the dwarf-like people have angler fish lights on
their heads.
That isn't to say that the visuals are absolutely perfect in every way. A
single drop of imperfection can be found in this sumptuous stew of art. The
character models for the main party members are merely decent. The designs
themselves may look nice, but they don't move as smoothly as really good
hand-drawn animation. They lack the quick, exaggerated and punchy movement that
gives actions that extra oomph. In addition, the faces look weird up close,
some not entirely on-model with their character portraits. Aurora looks like a
doll with a face painted on, for example. And sometimes Aurora forgets to bring
her hair to a fight, as it doesn't load in and leaves her with fighting with a
buzz cut. None of these issues are particularly glaring, but it does show that,
no matter how glorious the art is, there are flaws and I'm capable of
mentioning them.
But what makes all this even more impressive is that Child of Light wasn't
made by some towering palace of excess grinding gold bullion into animation
frames. The game was ostensibly by an indie team at Ubisoft Montreal.
Unfortunately, I can't actually determine the team size or the specific
individuals who worked on it. Why? Because the credits decide to list every
man, woman, child, aunt, uncle, cousin, grandparent, dog, friend, acquaintance,
uncle's friend, mailman, homeless-man-who-lives-outside-the-office, and aunt's
friend's dog who had anything REMOTELY to do with the game. Or anything to do with
Ubisoft. And so on. Seriously, there's hundreds upon hundreds of names here.
It's actually pretty frustrating, because I'd like to know who made the damn
game. Given a random estimate by what's considered "indie" by
publishers these days, it could be anywhere between half a dozen or 30 people.
Even taking the upper boundary of that estimate, the game looks better than
many, many games with several times the budget and manpower. It’s a testament
to how much good art design and cohesive vision can absolutely trump technical
power.
Out-of-Combat Gameplay
Discussing all the gameplay on display here is like biting into a twenty
pound slab of grizzled beef. There's plenty of juicy tidbits to get to, but
trying to chomp the whole thing will just leave you with a bloated mess you can't
properly digest. So we'll set the main course aside for now and nibble on some
appetizers until it's nice and tender. Let's start by talking about movement.
Early in to Child of Light, you gain the ability to fly. This ability is
not limited in, well, any way whatsoever. No fuel, no restricted areas, just
all flying all the time. There are some minor downsides to this. Avoiding or
ambushing enemies becomes completely trivial, to the point that it becomes the
norm and any other start to a fight is frustrating and likely accidental.
Wandering big open areas like those high in the air often leads to getting
lost, especially when hunting down 100% completion on hidden treasures. There
are also even subtler ways it influences play, such as in the tone of the game.
I shall have to use all my cunning and guile to
strike this enemy from behind and...oh wait, I remembered I can just fly behind
it. Nevermind.
A game with free-form flight feels, predictably enough, breezy. Even in
particularly dark or oppressive areas, it's difficult to ever feel intimidated,
overwhelmed or threatened. Other games often have you looking up at some
massive mountain or tall tower in awe and dismay, only to hours later look down
from its peak in triumph. Granted, this is more difficult to acheive in 2D
games where you can't physically see where you've been before, but even those
can let you feel accomplished with a feedback loop of finding new areas and
abilities to traverse them, Metroid style. Child of Light has lots of really
pretty and grandiose scenery, but you sail effortlessly through it. These
problems are so minor this isn't even criticism so much as a note of caution.
When you drastically change how you move in a game, it changes the way it
feels.
Of course, this can work to the game's advantage as well. Flying around in
Child of Light is fun to control, and soaring through these picturesque
landscapes is an airy and enjoyable experience. The relaxing parts of the game
are amplified by the way you move, just as the intimidating parts are lessened.
Ultimately, I'm not even saying this is an incorrect way of doing things. It's
simply a choice they made, in game feel and mood. Though I'd bet it has
something to do with the predictable puzzles of the game. Let's talk about
those, shall we?
At an early brainstorming session for Child of Light, I imagine things went
as follows:
"Alright team, we have some ideas on the combat
system, the story, the music and art direction. Now we just need some thoughts
on out-of-combat gameplay. I know the idea of in-game flight has been, ha,
flying around the office. What else do we have?"
"Pushing blocks?" says one.
"If the character can fly, why push
blocks?"
"Uh...hm."
"Pushing switches!" says another.
"Okay that's...that's something. Any more,
er, unique concepts?"
The first speaker snaps his fingers. "Pushing
blocks ONTO switches!" he cries.
The lead sighs and writes blocks and switches on the whiteboard.
"Anything else?"
"Well we could have a block you push onto a
switch that opens the way to another block..."
The lead holds up a hand. "Okay, I get it,
hold those thoughts for later. Anything else that DOESN'T have to do with
blocks or switches?"
A silence dropped upon the crowd like a concrete
paraglider. Fingers are twiddled. Necks are rubbed. Expressions purse and
contort. Suddenly someone brightens.
"Ah, the firefly! We have that firefly
companion as the cursor. The combat people had him healing allies and slowing
enemies in battle."
"Good point!" The word firefly is scrawled on the board.
"So what kinds of puzzles for him were you thinking of?"
"Oh. Um...you know. F-firefly type puzzles.
Like uh, light? Something with light. He could press switches with light?"
Another spoke up. "What if...what if he could
like, project shadows from objects. And then those shadows could be lined up
with stuff."
The lead nodded. "Ah, now we're getting
somewhere! I like that idea." Shadows was written on the board. "So how are we going to change
the puzzle from being just lining up basic shapes?"
Once again silence dropped like a sick bass beat.
Finger twiddling projections were at an all-time high. It was getting
perilously close to lunch time. The first crowd member spoke up again:
"We could...push blocks with shadow shapes on
them?"
I would never think to insult the humble block-pushing puzzle. You might
call it the building block of game puzzles, if your primary source of joy is
the groans of your friends and family. Mine certainly is. We owe much to this
venerable ancestor of digital dilemmas. But putting a block-pushing puzzle in
your video game is like bringing a barrel of plain rice to a fancy dinner
party. There's a lot you can mix it with and you're not going to offend anyone,
but it's not going to turn any heads.
Then there's the one unique puzzle of the game, casting shadows. One of the
functions of your mouse-bound firefly companion is projecting shadowy images
onto the background. As neat as this sounds, it can only be used on specific
objects, usually conspicuous orbs with symbols on them. It's an intriguing
puzzle the first time you do it and the other half dozen it's just kind of
there.
Matching light to pedestals in this gorgeous
cathedral feels mysterious and absorbing. Several suspiciously similar cathedral-like
environments later it feels less so.
What may surprise readers after all this is that I didn't really mind.
Child of Light doesn't bring much in the way of puzzles, but it's very short
for an RPG. The game brings in plenty of the classic variants, like switches to
hold down, timed switches, opening gates to other switches, etc. These
fundamentals are plenty to keep its manageable running time from getting too
dull, though if it were any longer I'd be saying otherwise. It won't win any
awards for puzzle design, but they never really bothered me.
What did bother me was the lack of interesting side quests. There's a
decent amount of optional content proportional to the main story, but most of
it is restricted to single-room side areas or quick-and-easy palette swap
bosses. Most of the quests you receive are for new party members. It seems like
these might technically be optional, but I can't fathom why you would ignore
them. They're usually as simple as talking to a character or telling them
you've beaten a boss that the plot required anyway. Intentionally crippling
your party isn't what I typically think of as optional content.
As far as the other side quests go, there are about 5 or 6. They're all
some variant of "go here and search for a thing". Much like the
puzzles, I would deem this plenty of optional content for a short independent
RPG. But also like the puzzles, I'm not about to give a standing ovation for a
handful of fetch quests. They're pretty thin in the writing department as well,
which contributes to the world feeling rather perfunctory. But I'm getting
ahead of myself, so let's just set that complaint aside for the article on
writing.
Music
Much like the game’s art, the music of Child of Light is incredibly
gorgeous and dripping with atmosphere. Most songs consist of piano, some type
of strings (usually cello), and some type of winds (usually flute). This makes
for a very relaxed and flowing soundtrack, an excellent complement to the art
style. Of course, as ever, the best way to explain something to your ears is to
let you hear it.
Aurora’s Theme doubles as the main theme of the game, and boy does it deserve it. This song is
absolutely beautiful. There is a wonderful weight and texture to the cello
taking the lead with the piano. The background elements like the lighter
strings and faintly strumming guitar are present enough to complement the lead
without detracting from it. We get hints of distant drum beats about a minute
in, which then transitions us into a more subdued piano solo. The last third of
the piece starting at about 2:10 adds more strings and brings all the elements
together in full force before peacefully tapering off. The melody is stronger
than if Goku and Superman had a surrogate son who bench pressed terminators
from the cradle. It all blends together better than a Velcro jigsaw puzzle
slathered in molasses flavored superglue. I don’t know what else to say. It’s
simply beautiful music.
Dark Creatures is the first battle theme in the game, and gives us a taste of what combat
sounds like. The whole piece is one magnificent flowing crescendo from
beginning to end. The essentials of strings and piano slowly build until the
winds and brass come in at 20 seconds. By 50 seconds the background strings are
sharp and the melody plays ever stronger, but we aren’t done rising yet. That
happens at 1:20, when the final part of the song blasts onto the scene. This
non-looping version then eases off on the gas towards the ending. The melody is
actually fairly simple and repetitive, but it really works for the flowing
sound and gradual crescendo. It’s a stirring but slightly subdued fight theme
well-suited to the game.
There’s no relevance
to this image. We’d just gone several paragraphs without ridiculously
intense visual beauty and I thought I’d remedy that.
If I had to pick a song almost as fantastically beautiful as
Aurora’s Theme, it’d be Pilgrims on a Long Journey.
The whole piece is a superbly executed example of rubato, tempo speeding up and
slowing at will. It takes its sweet time building up, taking a full minute for
the cello and other harmonies beyond light strings to show. The melody is
exactly the type of thing I’d expect to play while wandering through a massive
watercolor painting. It’s an ethereal and emotional sound that emphasizes the
space between notes with lots of reverb. For a lonely, picturesque journey,
it’s a perfect fit.
Jupiter’s Lightning is the first song on this list that comes right out of the gate firing all
cylinders. This isn’t another thoughtful contemplation of peace and beauty,
this is a fight. The short sharp
strings mete out of merciless melee melody accompanied by harsh yet harmonious
horns. Despite this, the song still fits with the general tone of the game. The
different portions of the song seamlessly blend into one another, and
occasionally the intrusion of airy flute or slow waves of strings temper the
raging fire of the main melody. This one is a lot of fun.
Continuing the pattern of
alternating between atmosphere and combat, we have Down to a Dusty Plain.
As always we have the trifecta of strings, winds and piano, but this one shows
a bit of contrast by being more upbeat than the other out-of-combat songs. The
flute plays a more prominent role, the background guitar is more prominent, and
the pace is brisker. It maintains that consistently airy and flowing sound from
the rest of the score, but shows that we’re capable of differing tones along
the way.
I knew from the start
that I would end on Metal Gleamed in the Twilight.
There are several boss themes in the game, but this is far and away my
favorite. Those first 10 seconds alone are an excellent way to start a
climactic battle. Frantic strings and horns skip up and down as an underlying
intensity builds to a thunderous crash of cymbals at around 50 seconds. Sharp
snare drums contrast with flowing strings until the tempo slows down at 1:30.
Though the next two thirds of the song have their share of great segments, I
really do love that opening. The song works a string section like no other and
all the elements come together marvelously. I wish I could say why more
clearly, but at this point my powers of descriptive metaphor are already
starting to wane. Since I don’t have time to sacrifice another goat to the gods
of blog writing it’s time we wrapped up.
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