The Gentleman's Reticule

Paul Goes To the National Gallery

Thu, 08 Jul 2010 11:51:00 +0100

I happened to be in London at the same time the National Gallery was running its ‘Close Examinations: Fakes, Mistakes and Discoveries’ exhibition. Thinking this beyond mere coincidence, I made a B-line straight for it.

As the name suggests, it’s a display of fakes, forgeries and otherwise doctored multichrome-paintillographic images, or ‘paintings’ for short; all very jolly and a wonderful time was had. I happened to discover a fake pound coin in my pocket (1 in 4 are!) and dropped it in the donation box upon leaving, chuckling to myself and thinking how clever I am at engineering such delicious irony, only to experience a sweating attack of conscience on the Jubilee line home which lead to me returning and writing them a cheque for £47.00 in compensation.

Anyway, here are some of my favourite exhibits. The text is from the National Gallery website.

Attributed to Umberto Giunti, Madonna of the Veil

When this painting first appeared around 1930, it was praised as a work by Botticelli. Not long afterwards, however, the investigations of art historians and scientists revealed it to be an outright fake, made with the intention to deceive.

Following the Second World War, detailed examination of the painting during conservation treatment exposed elements that cast further doubt on its authenticity. The robe of the Madonna, for example, is painted using Prussian blue, a pigment that only came into use in the early 18th century. Visual examination under a hand-held lens showed the grains of pigment to be very finely ground. This is characteristic of machine-ground commercial pigments; 15th-century pigments were ground by hand and therefore generally have a coarser grain. Also, there is a fire engine in the background.

Imitator of Francesco Guardi, Venice: Entrance to the Cannaregio, probably 20th century

This imagined Venetian view was one of eight paintings selected from nearly 100 pictures offered in a bequest to the National Gallery by John Henderson, a London collector, in 1979.

In a 1994 catalogue of Guardi’s paintings, the art historian George Simonson expressed doubt over the attribution of the work: “the painting of the sky and the tree line in it betray the lesser skill of another hand and there is no trace whatsoever of what a French critic has aptly called Guardi’s ‘griffe endiablée’ [furious touch] in the rendering of the quaintly-costumed figures in the foreground of the picture.” Since then, this painting has been catalogued as by an unknown imitator of Guardi’s work.

German, Edzard the Great, Count of East Friesland, 18th century

Infrared reflectograms of ‘Edzard the Great’ reveal an underdrawing, executed in a liquid medium applied with a brush. The head and facial features are simply drawn with no major changes, and have probably been mechanically transferred from a study drawn on paper.

The most noticeable alteration is the removal of a massive penis probably composed at an early stage by a pupil of the artist.

The exhibition is open until the 12th September 2010.

The Chaplin Moustache

Thu, 25 Mar 2010 15:52:00 +0000

I saw Richard Herring’s Hitler Moustache last night at the Komedia, Brighton. It only served to strengthen my opinion that he is one of the best, most hard working and most underrated of Britain’s comedians. He hasn’t quite achieved the cult status of Stuart Lee, his erstwhile comedy partner, but in my humble op - he’s probably a little more important.

Now, I love Stuart Lee, but where he experiments with stand-up, subverting our expectations with protracted routines, over-analysing linguistic or cultural minutiae, Herring tends to lunge for your heart (in an emotional sense) with material based around universal truths (childhood, ageing, people assuming you’re really into yoghurt) and stand-up with a social conscience. Hitler Moustache for example delves unabashed into the subject of racism, ultimately highlighting how utterly ridiculous it is, while at one point having the guts to openly bollock his audience for letting the BNP gain seats at the EU. He reasoned that statistically there must be some in the room who failed to vote in the European elections, people who are laughing at his anti-racist material while they themselves did nothing to counter the rise of this fascist party. The audience laughed - it was a little more subdued though. Some more subdued than others. He finished by reading a section of Chaplin’s speech from The Great Dictator, this one in fact, and he urged people to vote - for anyone but the fascists. It was a serious, heart-felt ending to the show. I left feeling uplifted.

A lot of the mainstream iterations of stand-up performance, the stuff we see on TV, make it easy to forget how important comedy is for combating social evils and injustice; a point RH makes in Hitler Moustache. It should be unashamedly passionate, angry and eager to convey its message, however awkward this may be or however much some people don’t want to hear it. Comedy that’s a slick, cynical roll of the eyes or pithy comment after the fact is lazy and it is cowardly. Richard Herring continues where Bill Hicks left off.

Click here for Richard’s remaining Hitler Moustache dates.

Eve Offcuts

Wed, 24 Mar 2010 14:22:00 +0000

Behold! A couple of disembodied narratives I couldn’t find a place for in a recent piece about Eve Online. Cringe at these unworthy morsels:

My mining lasers punctured the silence of the empty asteroid field with their periodic clanging resonance, boring away at lumps of azure scordite. Not the most exciting past-time, slowly filling my cargo hold with minerals to process and sell on, but I’m in a sector of space alone, no other pilots, or ‘capsuleers’ as they’re called, are nearby and I am nervous. No capsuleers means no one’s around to help if anything hostile happens to warp in. I’m a rookie, my ship is weak and I haven’t really got the cash to replace it. Theoretically, I’m in a system protected by security forces but that wouldn’t stop pirates or a quick hit-and-run by a particularly cruel player. I keep an eye on the ship’s scanners and align it to the nearest station in preparation for a quick getaway. The mining lasers continued to burn.

My career agent lead me a merry dance, sending me to track Wolf through several locations, destroying his cohorts, only to have him escape at the last minute each time. Now, I had the coordinates of his home station. I was going to take the fight to his doorstep, blow up his doorstep and with it the station and Wolf himself. I’d fitted my ship with two 75mm Gatling guns and the small shield and armour boosters provided by the University - lightweight, but it would have to do. Warping to within 10km of the target, I approached at speed, hoping to blow the place to pieces before any major reinforcements could arrive. Too late. Ships swarmed about me, their turrets shearing my shields. I ignored them, concentrating my fire on the station; not much longer now. Warnings blared from my ship’s computer as the shields failed and my armour began to take the brunt of their assault. Don’t run yet, just a little longer. I saw flames blossom from Wolf’s station. Then its structures failed and it burst. Immediately engaging the warp, I left the chaos and returned to the University, armour ragged and shields slowly regenerating. “Well, Wolf - what big teeth you HAD” I quipped to myself, then quickly regretted it.

Goodness!

Sat, 27 Feb 2010 13:20:00 +0000

The Gentleman’s Reticule is currently undergoing something of a change, the exciting extent of which is the doctored TGR Grouse photo above and what I am about to tell you.

As I now write for the lovely computer game related website Gaming Daily, I will be turning over TGR to more general musings.

From here on in, this blogamijig will include all kinds of creative offcuts and thinkings on a panoply of topics including:

obscure 90s comedy shows
music (possibly), and!
still computer games (inevitably).

Exciting stuff, I’m sure you’ll almost agree.

Now, let us initiate the relaunch in accordance with The Gentleman’s Reticule’s Marketing and Branding Department:

1, 2, 3 RELAUNCH. Hurrah!

The Stalker Diaries

Thu, 18 Feb 2010 17:08:00 +0000

Within my review of Call of Pripyat for Gaming Daily I intended to sprinkle a few fictionalised diary entries of my stalkerly escapades. In the end I decided to play it straight and not include them; the poor deputy ed. was still baffled enough after my previous piece. Instead, I’ll dump them here and hope I won’t be too lazy to add more later on.

August 3rd 2012

Day 1

A few hours hiking lead to vast wetland, dried up shipping port of some kind, derelict shells of tankers rusting on marshy floor. Nearby wreck home to band of stalkers; found them waiting out the night inside the metal belly - drink, shelter, guitar music.

Speaking to occupants revealed several jobs with possibility of earning a few coins; funds needed as military only provided most meagre of supplies.

Gunfire outside. Investigated. Walked slowly - save ammo: a) the shooter may fight off attacker b) he’ll be meat and can take his stuff. Was b) this time. Pistol shots to head finished off the assailant, a lone starving dog. Spent some time picking through dead man’s supplies.

Back in tanker, found local bigshot: guy called Sultan. Organising a raid - agreed to tag along. Can use the little outing to get sense of terrain, earn a few roubles, squeeze off some rounds. Tension here. Getting to me a little - being shot at will probably help break it.

August 4th 2012.

Day 2

Met with Sultan’s men, lead by guy called Nikita. Assembled outside another wrecked tanker, about midnight - targets sitting inside. Dark night, only head torches. Raid was brutal, confusing, a mess.

‘Comrades’ went in first - shot lone sentry. Allowed others to move through ship’s mouldering guts. Keen enough to rush into danger - choke points, entranceways, tops of stairs - so let them. Followed behind, taking out occasional enemy moving into sights amid gunfire and shouting.

Two of Sultan’s boys, Nikita and me left at end - success. Have cash now and more looted supplies. Survivors hunkered down for night, ignoring bodies of friend and foe scattered around. Stalkers are cold.

Stayed myself. Climbed to high point above wheelhouse: survey area with binos. Futile though. Ship sailing again, only now on a sea of black. Nothing but campfire glow in far distance. Zone’s animals howled at me from somewhere. Went down to join Nikita by the campfire.

August 5th 2012.

Day 3.

Beard, big barkeeper at Stalker tanker, mentioned weird light at nearby dredge station. Said I’d check it out for him.

Place deserted. Blue glow coming from windows on second story. Several anomalies in awkward places prevented easy access. Climbed through hole in the back and made my way up. Decaying metal of station’s wheel had twisted into some kind of artefact.

On my way out guy called Tuna appeared. Wanted wheel for ‘dying friend’. Didn’t trust him, refused. Threats issued so killed him. Don’t need folk coming after me. His friends appeared. Fire fight - eventually killed both - scavenged AK74 proving useful. Returned slowly to tanker, watching my back.

August 7th 2012.

Day 5

Moving to crash site 5 now. Stopped to see Nikita at tanker from before. All dead - bandits there now.

TGR has only just got around to: Mirror's Edge

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 21:04:00 +0000

Here’s a review of Mirror’s Edge, in the incredible off-chance that you haven’t yet played it or read a better review on Eurogamer or something.

Mirror’s Edge - somehow it effectively advertises toothpaste.

Mirror’s Edge, EA’s first-person, free-running FPS cum 3D platformer, can be a simple joy yet DICE do their merry best to overcomplicate it. On the whole, ‘clean’ would be the single word description. Its essence is refreshingly simple: get from point A to point B using natty gymnastic abilities. You play a ‘runner’ named Faith who couriers illicit material around a pristine dystopia, evading the authorities with rooftop parkour. Except you don’t; that’s her day job and not nearly exciting enough for a computer game. Soon an unfathomable story of assassination and double-dealing has you running about rooftops for this mad reason instead. The fun is predicated upon speedy and efficient travel and when hopping fences, ducking pipe-work and leaping vast distances in skilled succession, the experience is gripping indeed.

Controls are minimal, allowing fluid movement with graceful jumping, wall-running and break-falls once you master the necessary timing. The path you take is semi-linear, with objects coloured red to guide you in the right direction. Visually, the city setting is depicted in glistening whites, blues and reds, with the crisp architecture and eastern flavour of a downtown Tokyo in glorious summer; the environments are engrossing and magnificent when you’re granted a quiet moment to enjoy them.

Along with the bewildering plot there are, sadly, other elements which sully the game’s tidy aesthetic. Too often, you’re forced into the dull confines of a corridor or ventilation system which slows the smooth pace achievable outdoors. You’re also continually harassed by the ‘blues’, the security sent to hunt you down. With evasion hampering gunfire, interactions with the bad guys often amount to tricky disarming sequences which are near impossible without the slow-to-recharge burst of slow-motion that jabbing ‘R’ allows. If successful, little Faith grabs their weapon and can mow down her assailants in jarringly typical FPS fashion.

The game lasts around five hours which may leave you feeling cheated if you paid more than budget price, or have some kind of superhuman stamina for constant, frantic running and jumping. There’s the option to re-run levels in time-trial mode and, for those robotic completists out there, irrelevant bonuses to unlock by finding hidden stashes during the main game.

Mirror’s Edge’s shine is tarnished by overwrought extras. Forget the daft story and shooting, I was happiest with nothing but the city, the ambience, somewhere I had to get to and several massive drops in between.

OFP2:DR Mission Making Comp

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 17:18:00 +0000

OFP2’s island, Skira.

At the beginning of November Codemasters and Intel launched a mission-making competition for Operation Flashpoint 2: Dragon Rising in an apparent attempt to kick some life into the moribund and underwhelmed community while shamelessly pimping Intel’s I7 chips. OFP2:DR was a bit of a curious disappointment; it looked great and had loads of impressive little touches but the single player campaign was sterile and missed all opportunities to show off the game engine by a wide country mile.

The mission editor was the most exciting feature of the PC edition, providing a toy box full of soldiers and vehicles for use in creating your own thrilling scenarios. I was able to knock up a few interesting skirmishes fairly easily and quality missions were not far off, if only I had the patience to learn more lua script. I’ve been waiting for the valiant community folk to bring some exciting content to the war-room table and hopefully this Intel-centivized compo will encourage them to do just that. The current crop can be downloaded and rated here and I’ve been testing out a few of the front-runners. As stipulated by the competition rules, prepare for some ludicrously Intel I7 themed missions.

‘Operation Absolute Intel I7’

Survive a beach landing, hold a small village then move on to destroy an Intel I7 powered tank and Intel I7 thieving Chinese commander, or something.

Great! An immense amphibious assault with boats and water-tank things which put Codemasters’ efforts to shame. Most friendly landing craft are destroyed as you hit the beach leaving the 65ish entity limit free to spawn defenders as you attack and hold an artillery-pummelled village. Afterwards, a commandeered helicopter allows you to missile to death the Intel I7 tank and commander as they hunker at a fuel depot a click or so in land. You’re also given a generous supply of artillery strikes. It always seemed odd when the single player campaign denied you fire support, as it so often did. Why would the richest military on the planet be so reluctant to grant a few measly artillery shells?

This mission makes impressive use of the game’s audio assets and pleasingly expected you to pinch the Chinese chopper without writing it into the briefings. Unfortunately, the mission objectives only mention Intel three times so I can only give it 3/10.

‘Intel Operation Sabretooth Squirrel’

Fly Major Macon to a meeting about Intel I7s then move some troops and defend a bridge.

Great! A run-of-the-mill helicopter piloting jolly, just like those in OFP; how I missed them in OFP2:DR. There’s a race at the beginning to reach your briefing on time after which you jump in a Blackhawk and ferry Major Macon to his Intel I7 meeting. Interaction with other soldiers is something OFP and the Armas had but OFP2:DR completely neglected. Any game intending to create an authentic combat experience has to go some way to emphasise the humanity of those with whom you are fighting, otherwise you may as well be running about with a bunch of robots. The drama of simulated combat is diminished if you don’t care a jot for your comrades beyond their function as bullet and medicine dispensers. After dropping the Major off, further objectives failed to appear so I flew about aimlessly before crashing into a hill, flipping over and losing my legs to the heli’s pesky rotor blades. I’ve never seen the red damage location arrows appear all at the same time before - they made a pretty red circle.

A promising start, and a good tour of the island’s geography but ultimately broken. However, creative inclusion of the Intel I7: 10/10.

‘Cobra Rising: Intel Sweep’

Use a Cobra helicopter to destroy captured enemy intel on the Intel I7; blow up a few tanks while you’re at it. Oh, and kill General Han, the git.

Great! Another chopper mission, they’re certainly popular with the voters. This time your kite is the decidedly angrier Cobra attack thing. I completed all the objectives up to the point where I was instructed to land and pursue General Han in a Humvee; I made the tactical decision to remain up in my death bird and track him thusly. Scouring the island I failed to find him but, in the waning sunlight, OFP2:DR’s terrain stole my breath for the first time ever. The sunlight reflecting from the water and shading effects on the vast, craggy terrain were simply beautiful. I would love to be able to interact with the environment in ways other than bombing it - some kind of naturalist survival game perhaps? Where was all this visual splendour in the single player campaign? Baffling. It really is depressing to think that such a wonderfully realised location will only ever be host to Chinese and Americans killing each other.

Helicoptering with lots to shoot, a solid Intel I7/10.

These missions were a little ropey with none working exactly as they should but they all exhibited a creativity which Codies’ single player lacked. It will be interesting to see who wins at the end of December.

Gaming with the Braindead Masses - A L4D2 Grump

Tue, 24 Nov 2009 18:58:00 +0000

That coy little game I play with myself has just ended in what could best be described as a draw. It begins every time I want something I can’t really afford. I spend a few days with a sweaty resolve to be good and save my pennies while jigging like a squash-filled infant; then with a whimper I give in and guiltily splurge. It’s a merry dance, designed to pre-emptively punish my appalling lack of control with a few days of grumpy, self imposed withholding. Anyway, all this is to say that I finally have Left 4 Dead 2. Hurrah! But I’m not playing it. We have fallen out.

It’s not entirely the game’s fault; it’s obviously a well made, well written title but I’ve been prevented from enjoying it by a parade of incompetent online team mates. This may be due to the fact that the game has only just been released and the community is busy getting to grips with it but still… When you have to wait an age for gumpy companions to simply move forwards, or suffer the stings of yet another incompetent Molotov, the warming glow of the game’s visuals and level design starts to fade. Am I being overly misanthropic? Impatient? Arrogant? I’m probably coming across as elitist as well, but I must stress that I’m usually the one messing up and lagging behind when I team up with the folks on my Steam list; I’ve committed more incidents of friendly fire than a pack of spontaneously combusting labradors. I’m sorry, you’ll have to forgive my sulkiness, but this frustration only arises from a desire to experience the game at its best. In a way, L4D2 is cursed by its meticulous atmosphere and dramatic potential. Anything which spoils it is like finding a poo in your dressing gown pocket: disturbing and extremely annoying. The emphasis is obviously on team play and when this fails to cohere, so does the game.

I hope the situation improves as the player base increases and people get more familiar with it, I’m sure it will. For the moment, however, I hesitate to click ‘play online’, it’s often just too much of a disappointment.

Zombie Snacks

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 14:50:00 +0000

Due to some unfortunate financial mismanagement (specifically, me getting a bit giddy and buying Modern Warfare 2 - I can’t even give the damn thing away as a Christmas present, thank you very much Steam), I am sorry to announce that The Gentleman’s Reticule has a deficit in its November games budget. The tragic consequence is that I haven’t been able to buy Left For Dead 2 and, until I can draft a letter to my investors, cheaper zombie themed amusement must be sought.

As such, I’ve been playing the browser based MMO Urban Dead. Set in the zombie ravaged town of Malton you are a survivor and spend your daily allowance of fifty action points searching for supplies, fighting the undead and finding safe havens within barricaded buildings. If you die, you will return to unlife as a zombie and must seek a suitable location to be unzombified by a suitably skilled player. Alternatively, you can continue to play as a zombie and hunt down survivors.

The limitation of fifty action points per day means that some thought has to go in to how you spend them. Absent minded play will leave you unable to make it back to barricaded safe houses and exposed to attack. Where zombie games often revel in headshots and frantic horde chases, Urban Dead emphasises a considered, slow-burning approach to post-apocalyptic survival. Recently, a large group of well coordinated zombie players have been laying waste to Malton, district by district. Every day, I would hear further reports of their devastation and relentless progress toward my safe house. With an uncertain duration before this wave of zombies hit, I had to organise a dash to scavenge first aid at the nearest hospital, build barricades, gather weapons to fight them off and scout out a safe location elsewhere in case I needed to flee completely. Preparing for a defence or excursion is a matter of days so planning is essential to ensure you don’t wake up with bite marks and a longpig craving.

What Urban Dead looks like - there’s a town map in the top left corner!

Still, there’s little inconvenience if you are killed, with no penalty to your experience or inventory you just lose a few action points and must find somewhere to be revived if you want to continue playing as a human. Other ‘lite’ aspects include the absence of a trading system and fairly easy levelling which means you can get all the most useful skills very quickly. It’s trickier to gain XP as a zomb though, if you do fancy more of a challenge.

Malton is, however, huge and the game’s wiki includes a lot of community generated background on many of the locations and buildings adding atmosphere to the game which can be quite emotive in its own minimalistic way. As an example, and because HTML doesn’t produce thrilling screenshots, see here something which happened to my character:

Even from the bare event texts, creepy cinematic narratives can be created.

Urban Dead is more Dawn of the Dead than 28 Days Later, it’s a slow ominous shuffle rather than a shrieking charge. I’ve found it to be a fun diversion for a few minutes a day, with enough depth to hold interest but not so much that it punishes if you don’t play regularly. I still want Left for Dead 2 though.

TGR has only just got around to: Sanitarium

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 23:46:00 +0000

While suffering side-effects of the fashionable swine-flu vaccine, I force my fevered brain to think up some words on a game from 1998 called Sanitarium.

Sanitarium is like those dreams you get when you’re coming down with the flu; it kind makes sense but is also peculiar and operating on some bizarre logic all of its own. For example, to complete an early section I had to save a town full of abandoned, disfigured children from a giant, talking meteor-plant they called Mother, who wanted to change them from ‘lumps of sick meat’ into vegetation like herself. Yes, that kind of makes sense. In a very creepy and mad kind of way.

Sanitarium is a top-down, point-and-click adventure game in which you play an interned psychiatric patient. The introductory FMV shows your apparent escape and subsequent car crash explaining the bandaged face and amnesia you awake with as the game begins. To discover the truth surrounding your incarceration you must traverse the surreal half-realities of the asylum and nightmarish landscapes of the protagonist’s psyche.

D’ya think?

Now, Sanitarium is a clunky old game and there are many reasons to justify why it was panned when released. Your character walks painfully slowly which is a drag when you have to go back and forth around fairly large environments. My journeys from A to B were also frustrated by accidental activation of pernickety trigger zones that would often drag me up or down stairs against my sulky will. When you have to interact there are no separate ‘use’, ‘look’ or ‘talk to’ commands, instead it’s left click to examine then left click again to interact, slowing the pace still further. Most heinously, the game is cursed with a deficient system when detecting smaller or less obviously usable objects. I found myself stuck on several occasions because of this and never for the actual puzzles which provide little challenge for anyone with even the slightest experience of point-and-click adventures.

Sanitarium’s strengths lie in original settings and story; there are several truly memorable and unique places to visit in this game. One of my favourites was the travelling circus sited on a small island besieged by a rampant, man-eating squid. It was utterly uncanny: terrified locals, huddled near slum houses, await their deaths while a shabby circus continues to ply its trade beside them. Abstract encounters like these form the game, with no literal relation to the reality of your character’s situation which is gradually revealed in snippets of FMV. Where Sanitarium’s puzzles are simplistic, the allegorical nature of its environments in relation to the narrative are refreshingly nuanced, resembling more recent titles like Pathalogic or Bioshock. Unfortunately, the more impressive scenes are clustered in the first half of the game leaving the remainder disappointing by comparison. The dialogue also seems to lapse later in the game with fewer interesting bit-players and a greater emphasis on progressing the story which was, however, still sophisticated and compelling enough to hold my interest. At its best I was reminded of the subtle complexities of the Silent Hill series as themes of guilt and childhood bereavement intertwine with the subjects of vivisection and pharmaceutical profiteering. This is epitomised in a genuinely moving section set within the protagonist’s family home.

The touching climax of Chapter 4.

There were many times when I was playing Sanitarium through gritted teeth, frustrated by the controls, pointless combat or occasional necessity to plough through dull dialogue. For me, it saved itself from these otherwise unforgivable sins with an earnest commitment to telling a sophisticated story in an original way, incorporating art and level design as only computer games can. With the looks of a polished Fallout 2 and an atmosphere somewhere between Lovecraft and The Twilight Zone, Sanitarium offers some unique experiences to those prepared to work through the shoddy interface and weaker design choices.

Sanitarium is available from www.gog.com

Holding the Fort - thoughts on two lesser decorated military shooters.

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 20:17:00 +0000

As the reverberations of Modern Warfare 2’s recent kersplosion gradually ebb away and we all warily get back on our feet, coloured grey from head to foot in commentarial debris but happy to be alive and heartened by the realisation that we are all, despite our many forms and colours, human and fundamentally the same like what happens at the end of Volcano; it is obvious that computer gaming has hit something of a high water mark. With events that include broadsheet reviews, Newsnight Review, record sales figures and Leicester Square premiers MW2 has shunted computer gaming ever closer to the boundaries of what can possibly be described as ‘wider cultural consciousness’.

Admirable success indeed, especially considering the fact that we should all surely be sick of conflict, especially the modern variety: ‘War. Huh. Yeah. What is it good for?’, as Jesus once said. Well apparently, Jesus, the answer is selling computer games. In the light of Infinity Ward’s strapping new recruit, I offer you, dear reader, a little retrospective on two somewhat overlooked military themed computer games and a few things they did ever so slightly differently. How copy, over? (Now you say ‘Solid copy’).

Hidden and Dangerous.

Ahh, playing H&D is like slipping into a comfortable old friend. It is a dusty brocante of classic militaria with a grand atmosphere and the stiffest of upper lips. On start we are presented with dozens of fine men from which to forge our crack squad of four, and with each their backstories and statistics. I pay little attention to the biogs and the stats , of course, should be ignored for the only trait that truly counts in a war with Gerry is how preposterously British the squaddie’s name is. Yet, when commencing a play-through I have always found myself picking my squad and sticking with them where possible throughout the campaign. There is something compelling about taking charge of your hand selected team and leading them into harm’s way and safely back out again. H&D is a game set within the grand narrative of World War II with the missions framing unique plots the details of which are directed by your orders and the subsequent actions of your soldiers. It is a strength of the game design that you have the experience of overall command and a vivid proximity to the fighting on the ground.

The concept of ‘the mission’ is one of two fundamental principles in any military themed computer game, the other is death and in H&D death is palpable because the game does not care if your men, and by extension you, live or die. Lose half your squad but complete the mission and you will progress. A casualty can be replaced, it is only the player’s whim or ability that decides the fate of the individuals and it takes a man of sterner stuff than I to leave a body behind in the theatres of war ravaged Europe or Asia without considerable pangs of guilt and regret. We expect death to occur in our war games, the kooky team mate is probably going to bravely snuff it as in Brothers In Arms or World in Conflict. Modern Warfare has popularised the sudden killing off of the player controlled character - this was a startling and effective device in MW1. When this happened to me in MW2, from the relatively early death of Private Allen, I took all survival with a pinch of salt; I’ve survived the mission, now I have to see if I survive the plot. Every time I was affected by the game’s writer in such a heavy handed way, I became more conscious of my minimal influence and the fact that I was only really along for the ride. My significant choices amounted to completing the mission, failing the mission and reloading. That scene in MW2, shocking though it is to a degree, has less resonance for just this reason. What H&D does superbly is heft responsibility over to you the player - there are no missions within the game that are impossible for the whole squad to survive, certainly the odds are squeezed in many places and the drama ramps up accordingly.

War games don’t often make you feel culpable. Keiron Gillen has written about Cannon Fodder and its underlying pacifist agenda and while I wouldn’t go as far as to say that H&D displays the same sentiments, it certainly provokes a similar feeling of responsibility for the unexceptional folk whose survival or death are only side notes in the sleeves of mission dossiers never deliberate plot points. It is a reminder of the sacrifices war has forced ordinary folk to make; what other game posits you and men with names like Kevin Turner in situations of near certain death?

Vietcong.

Oops. This seems to have inadvertently turned into a bit of a 2K Czech love in. Never mind, eh? I have very fond memories of Vietcong but after a little dabble just now it’s obvious that I’ve been spoiled by more sophisticated titles since. However the game still manages a solid job of dressing the scene for a classic ‘Nam experience with great sound and emotive combat which actually made me jump like a reservist on several occasions. Missions are generally funnelled through some very linear jungle, along with occasional nightmarish tunnel affairs, and when you meet with the enemy your squad swears and shoots at them. Brutal indeed, as war is. When the gunfire has ceased you can approach the corpses of your fallen foe and search their bodies, occasionally producing military documents but sometimes letters and personal pictures which you hold in your hand, replacing your weapon until you left click to dismiss them. There is no game related reason why you find these things but it is interesting to be presented with the human side of the opponent you have so readily gunned down. I admire 2k Czech, then Illusion, for imbuing the bad guys with a little humanity and thus making their game slightly less of the duck shoot which FPSs can so often become.

Another great thing about Vietcong is that it includes something which few other military games do: downtime. After each mission you return to your basecamp at Nui Pek where you can stay in your little bunker, read mission write-ups, listen to the radio, and wander about the camp to do some target shooting and interact minimally with the other characters around you. There’s no great depth to this aspect of the game but it’s always fun to have something other than a loading screen to introduce the next mission, for me at least. Some people may want to jump straight back into the action but I like the decompression time and pacing this gives the game between the moments of excitement and tension during the missions.

That sign says Nui Pek. Your basecamp. It is on fire.

Your Nui Pek basecamp is a dependable constant throughout the game and you’re never happier to see it than when you’ve crawled through miles of at once boring and bloody terrifying VC tunnels. This makes the final mission all the more affecting: an undefeatable enemy assault, and your eventual evacuation of this once safe haven. Not only must you all flee by helicopter leaving behind a bunker full of your personal effects made familiar over the course of the game, but this final mission signifies that all your efforts throughout, all the missions completed, people killed and tunnels crawled through, have amounted to nothing. The enemy can still come into your home and forcibly evict you. Few games end with such a kick in the balls. While doing its best to convince you of its brainlessness Vietcong throws up some surprising moments of poignancy.

Hello! And hearty welcomes indeed to The Gentleman’s Reticule, the Internet’s first...

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 20:04:00 +0000

Hello! And hearty welcomes indeed to The Gentleman’s Reticule, the Internet’s first ‘computerised gaming’ themed website. It’s certainly about time, isn’t it?

Not wishing to overshadow the release of Modern Warfare 2, I have kindly waited a week to begin filling these pages with delicious words like a literary patissier, cheerfully piping the contents of his hefty bag over each and all of your astounded eyeballs. Inspiration for the items here written will flow mainly from the wellsprings of PC gaming but you will be glad to hear I am by no means intending to exclude any extratopical dribbles of insight.

I do hope you enjoy!