I just had one of those fantastic gaming experiences: compulsively playing “just one more level”, ignoring the clock, until it’s way, way too late for a weeknight. Shamefully, I had this experience playing a puzzle game. I don’t even like puzzle games. Eets? Sure, I respect it. I seriously considered buying a copy, knowing full well I’d never fire it up. I think Lemmings is the last puzzle game I really killed some hours on. Since then, I don’t think I’ve spent more than 5 minutes in one (including remakes of Lemmings).
Well, not until Portal. Portal is so perfectly paced, the learning curve so perfectly tuned to give your brain that high, that it’s almost impossible to stop playing. On top of that, the writing– yes, in a puzzle game– elevates the Portal experience far more than should be possible. That’s what’s struck me most about Portal, and another recent Valve release, Team Fortress 2. Writing– so long neglected, so disdained as a necessary or even helpful element in games– lifts both games from respectable genre entries to memorable new experiences.
It’s not that good game writing is a new occurrence. There are genres in which it’s made appearances, or in which it’s been the defining factor in a game’s quality. However, most studios make excuses for skimping on it. “If we gave the main character personality,” they say, “you might not be able to identify. ” “Writing? That obviously means extended cutscenes, and we’re not going to take control away from the player.” By filling both a puzzle game and a team-based shooter with personality and humor, Valve has exposed these cop-outs for what they are. The bar has been raised, and gamers might not be so quick to give future games a pass.