I’m glad to see that BioWare is making an effort to diversify combat so we’re not just clicking the same attack animation over and over again, but the presentation really does look a bit lackluster. They should get the Mass Effect 2 team to show them a thing or two about real time combat.

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But what’s more fascinating is the incredible amount of information they’re rolling out for a game that hasn’t even reached Beta yet. Star Wars: The Old Republic must be unbelievably massive if BioWare and EA feel comfortable showing off new assets bi-weekly. But they must be doing something right–I’m actually excited about an MMO.

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Got 20 minutes? Then watch this fantastic recap of Star Wars: The Old Republic‘s major features in live gameplay. This really does look like a fun game for an MMO.

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According to 1UP (via Gamesindustry.biz), LucasArts is considering all payment options when it comes to the much anticipated Star Wars: The Old Republic.

“Yeah, we’re considering it all,” said LucasArts President Darrell Rodriguez on the topic of subscriptions and micro-transactions. “You start looking at how different communities, territories such as Asia, actually play games, and we start to consider it all – especially if we want it to be a worldwide phenomenon.”

Given Asia’s penchant for free-to-play, micro-transaction based MMOs, I think it’s safe to say that that business model is a strong possibility for that particular region. But it is also very likely that a variety of models could be utilized based on territory, such as micro-transactions for Asia and subscriptions for western markets. But as long as there’s hope of Knights of the Old Republic‘s successor being free-to-play, I’m a happy man. BioWare has yet to officially crush my hopes in regards to the western market.

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I must admit, it looks very KOTORy, which is always a good thing. But at the same time, I’m a little disappointed in the seeming lack of advancement on combat from six years ago. At least Mass Effect utilizes cover. I’d also really appreciate it if developers just put in the effort to have a parry or dodge animation for anything that isn’t a deathblow with the light saber–it really just looks stupid when a dude’s getting hacked up and he’s all easy-peezy.

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Oddly enough, this developer diary which focuses on voice acting seems to contain the first gameplay footage of The Old Republic that I’ve seen or heard of. It actually looks pretty good in motion, but leaves much to be desired in the dialogue close-ups. The voice acting itself also sounds good, even if they are going a little heavy on the tough-guy action hero voice. This game’s really shaping up.

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The best of the best from Electronic Arts’ E3 press conference. Spoilers: there’s a lot of Bioware.

Mass Effect 2 Trailer

Dragon Age: Origins Trailer

Star Wars: The Old Republic Cinematic Trailer

Madden 10 gets online franchise mode

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This is how The Old Republic represented itself at EA’s press conference today… in style.

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A common emotional reaction in video games.

So amid all the chaos that was GDC 2009, I managed to read a really great article on GameSpot about the societal impact of video games. One line stood out to me more than any other: “(Will) Wright also mentioned an experience he had with Lionhead’s Black & White, where he beat up his god creature ‘just to see what would happen.’ With the creature eventually bloodied and crying, Wright said that he legitimately felt pangs of guilt, an emotion that he couldn’t have gotten from other forms of media, such as movies.”

This anecdote got me to thinking about the unique situation video games are in compared to other story telling mediums. Why is it that I’ve never cried in empathy at the end of a game but I’ve shouted in triumph? How come I don’t really care about my video game comrades’ life stories but I feel a sense of duty to them as their leader? Well, what video games have that film and literature don’t is interactivity. And with that comes some unique pros and cons. But what’s most important about it is the fact that emotion in video games is not sympathy or empathy directed towards others, but the player’s own feelings. We don’t feel bad for the character who lost his friends in battle, we feel bad because we lost our friends in battle. That my friends, is the ultimate exclusive because video games can have emotions that no other medium can.

Now, before I get on my high horse and preach the righteousness of video games, there’s a whole history of terrible story telling we have to account for. Sure, a good portion of our industry’s history hasn’t actually been devoted to telling a story that’s anything more than a reason to move forward, but the games that have tried to manipulate our emotions haven’t exactly done the greatest job ever. Just last month the InsaneBear community was discussing how trivial and pathetic the romance in Mass Effect is. And I don’t think Rockstar intended for me to be apathetic when Kate got gunned down in Grand Theft Auto IV. Even the best examples of story-telling in games come up short in comparison to other mediums. Final Fantasy may cut it in our world, but there’s a reason all the movie spin-offs have failed miserably. It would seem that what’s generally regarded as the best accounts of story-telling in video games tend to be passive cut-scenes that remove our unique ability to interact, but when these cut-scene stories are put up against other passive mediums, their shallow and cheesy nature is revealed. And the games that do value player choice seem to be missing the mark in a bad way.

But what about the good examples? In my personal gaming history, there’s one emotionally charged moment that stands out above all others for me. I was at a rather large Halo 2 LAN with a group of closely-knit friends and we were playing one-bomb assault on Zanzibar against a team consisting of four players who shared the name “Dip”. It was positively the most evenly matched game I’ve ever played, and I remember it went on so long that other teams who’d finished the round were gathering around to watch us. I could feel my heart pounding in my head as I barked out orders to my mates. I could feel the adrenaline speeding through my veins with every test of our tactics. And I felt an absolute head-rush when we won that match. Not only was there the obvious sense of accomplishment that comes with most every game, but there was a gratification that I had lived up to my expectations as team leader too. And when we ultimately lost the competition later that night, I felt like I had let my friends down. Only a video game can tell the story of leadership and force the player to really feel the pressures that go with it. And while competitive and cooperative multi-player games certainly are the best examples of this so far, I see no reason why these same feelings couldn’t be conveyed with AI partners and enemies.

Another powerful example of strong emotion in video games comes with Fable II, in a segment where the player must choose whether or not to feed starving prisoners at the expense of his or her own experience points. Given that a prisoner had previously told me to lay low and not draw attention to myself, I thought it too risky to feed them when the guards left. But as seconds started dragging on (I think the game gives you like two minutes) I started to doubt myself. The pitiful cries of agony started to tug at me, and I had to keep justifying my actions to myself with the old “greater good” mantra. And the time kept crawling by at a snail’s pace, forcing me to watch these skin-and-bones prisoners struggle to even call for help. I was telling myself that by this point there wasn’t enough time left to make a difference. I didn’t necessarily feel guilty at the end, but I definitely felt like I had sacrificed those prisoners for a bigger cause. I don’t even know what I would have felt if I’d watched my experience points visibly drain away for two minutes so the prisoners could live. But what I do know is that a book or movie has never made me feel guilty or righteous (although I can think of one book that unjustifiably makes a whole lot of people feel guilty). These emotions are exclusive to our interactive medium.

The last example I’d like to bring up is the microwave tunnel in Metal Gear Solid 4. It’s baffling to think that Hideo Kojima can evoke such strong feelings by simply demanding that the player button mash for what seems like an eternity, but he does. The first time I played that sequence and saw Snake cooking before my eyes, I seriously wondered if it was the end. The never-before-seen split-screen story telling charged the scene with the gravity of everybody else’s dire situations while I continued to desperately bash on triangle, trying to steer Snake to safety. And then he started collapsing, his old and beaten body falling apart in front of me. Every time he hit the ground I was yelling, “Get up, you son of a bitch!” I tapped triangle faster and faster, but the button prompt kept telling me it wasn’t enough. In that brief sequence I wasn’t watching Snake’s story, I was Snake. I felt his struggle, and I completely doubted my life. I was amazed when I made it to the end of the hallway, octo-camo melting off of my wrinkled skin. How could a movie possibly make me feel like all my efforts might culminate in failure when I’m not investing any effort into a movie?

So what do all those personal experiences have in common? How are the responsibility of a leader and the fraternity of teamwork related to the guilt and doubts of sacrifice or the struggle of defying impossible odds? I would argue that they’re all emotions exclusive to interactive entertainment. I don’t see how anybody could justify feelings of guilt or accomplishment or pride or doubt in a movie or book. You can’t truly feel these things by observing someone else because they’re personal emotions that depend on your own actions. So maybe video games should stop trying to emulate Hollywood and focus on what’s unique to us. I want to see a game that makes me feel ashamed. I want to see a game that makes me feel vengeful. I want to see a game that makes me feel like a mentor. Pretty much, I just want games that capitalize on interactivity and present me with situations that make me feel my own emotions, not what I’m told to feel.

Based on all the examples I can think of, the best way to do that is to make the player responsible and accountable for their actions. Let their decisions effect the NPCs or other players around them. Don’t tell them what they should do or feel, just let them find their own way and suffer the consequences. And make sure no matter what, there’s no right or wrong (I’m looking at you Fallout 3 and your oh, so morally ambiguous Megaton choice). If I had to look into the near-future and predict one game that might come close to this, it’d probably be Bioware’s upcoming The Old Republic. Those guys have a history of good story-telling (at least plot-wise) in their games and the unpredictable environment of an MMO just might make for some magic. Let me know your guys’ thoughts on good and bad examples of story-telling in games, and what games you’re looking forward to.

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