We didn’t ask for this, but developer, publisher, and multi-faceted industry pioneer Valve software delivered Left 4 Dead 2 barely one year after the first anyway. And company chose to do so despite the passionate and sometimes ludicrous objections from fanatics clinging to an all but bygone way of industry distribution (Valve typically spends years perfecting each iteration of a property while maintaining consumer interest in those at market with free updates and downloadable content).
Months ago, the loudest protesters received an invitation to play the title they so strongly opposed at Valve’s own headquarters in Bellevue, Washington. Shortly after, the community-driven petitions received fewer signatures and boycott groups disbanded. Valve won, but did gamers as well?
After months of waiting, and Valve playing coy drug pusher with a brilliantly concise and addictive demo, the game’s out now on both the Xbox 360 and PC. The explanation behind the death of the defying few’s doubts is obvious now. Valve destroyed them with better game design.
The first Left 4 Dead now plays like a developer trial run. The linearity of its levels rarely encouraged exploration and/or alternative pathing – telling survivors to always find the optimal straight line in their A to B journeys and stick with it. Nothing good could ever warrant deviation. 2′s levels remain linear by design, but traveling in these expansive environments feels more organic and diverse. Repeatedly during each campaign, players must take note of their current health and inventory and decide whether or not distancing themselves from the vaguely beaten path is worth an unidentified reward that may or may not exist. Sometimes it is, and the group can move forward with greater confidence and efficiency, and sometimes people die. This risk/reward system’s present in nearly every videogame ever created (I’m aware of many exceptions, thanks), but implementation here is strikingly vital to player perceived enjoyment.
In a single-player game of Left 4 Dead 2, a risk/reward thought procedure includes few factors involving the group‘s efficiency. Computer-controlled allies don’t carry throwable items like the Boomer bile, pipe bomb, and molotov cocktail, but they will find and use a chainsaw or a grenade launcher regardless of your own personal preference and capability. These teammates are stupid, too – sometimes falling from a vital location or ignoring others incapacitated by the zombie pack. Out of necessity, players must think only of themselves when playing alone. “All that matters is if I can reach the end,” they likely think.
Add a few more flesh-and-blood teammates to the mix and more factors get thrown into the risk/reward situational blender. Emotion, the bittersweet spice, inevitably slips its way in as well. Groups filled with equally capable players are rare, and at one point or another, everyone eventually debates whether or not it’s a good idea to use a healing item on the fool with a constantly dropping health bar. “Perhaps it would be a better idea to save the invaluable first aid kit and use it on someone else, someone with more kills and a greater sense of what it takes to survive,” we wonder. “Or maybe we should check in that dark corner behind the motel. I once saw a health pack there during a different playthrough.”
Undoubtedly the best campaign.
Situations like these present themselves at the end of every bleak corridor and inside each brightly outdoor environment in Left 4 Dead 2. From the small, “this zombie will hit me in maybe three seconds, but one might hit me from behind in two…what should I do?,” to the big, “I’m at the end of the level and all of my friends are lying on the ground getting attacked by everything. Do I save them or leave?” Valve’s successes in inserting these moments dictate the game’s unexpected achievements in playability. Don’t be fooled, the zombie apocalypse is just pretty packaging.
As I stated earlier, the title’s levels are brilliantly crafted environments that allow the intended gameplay design to work exceedingly well. The craftsmen themselves deserve substantial credit, but will probably receive very little from those outside their field. It’s okay, guys and gals, few realize the visual splendor of films like Brokeback Mountain and 25th Hour are due to cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto‘s involvement.
Making the level designers look even better (or is it the other way around?), is the Director, an in-game artificial intelligence capable of shaping level pacing on-the-fly. Here’s a great description from Wikipedia:
“Instead of fixed spawn points for enemies, the Director places enemies and items in varying positions and quantities based upon each player’s current situation, status, skill and location, creating a new experience for each playthrough.[6] The Director also creates mood and tension with emotional cues, such as visual effects, dynamic music, and character communication.”
As far as I know on the subject of artificial intelligence (not a whole lot), the Director’s cutting-edge technology, or design, in videogames.
Click the video above to learn more about the Director.
In this sequel, the Director received massive upgrades to its toolsets in the form of three new special zombies: the Charger, Spitter, and Jockey, additional monster spawn points per level, and tweaks to its fundamental design – ensuring more than ever that no two games are alike. The Director’s involvement and competence really can’t be overstated.
To help players battle the unseen puppeteer and its relentless undead horde, Valve significantly expanded the weapon and item arsenal. In the first title, firearms almost dictated players fill particular roles or classes defined by the positive and negative characteristics of a weapon. Shotgunners handled close-quarters combat, snipers dealt with anything far away, and those with automatic rifles and submachine guns handled everything in-between. Proper group configuration wasn’t key to reaching each campaign’s end, but it certainly didn’t hurt.
In 2, choosing a weapon is a gratifying personal preference. Instead of expanding the effectiveness with a new tiering of items, Valve decided to fill in the gaps with a silenced submachine gun, an assault rifle with a three round burst firing mode, melee weapons, etc. Experimentation’s encouraged here, and fun, too. I once dropped my beloved Katana to pick up the obviously inferior electric guitar. Hearing and seeing zombie heads explode with the simultaneous sound of off-key notes from my guitar may seem inconsequential, but it was beautiful at the time. I think Tallahassee of Zombieland would agree.
But no matter who you are, or what you prefer, eventually everyone asks “Should I drop this katana for the chainsaw or maybe a magnum pistol?” In a game where, in just one hour, players are bombarded by hundreds of zombies waiting to face dismemberment, this is a welcome dilemma.
Quite possibly the meatiest-sounding chainsaw in a videogame.
Now Valve faces one. It’s been two years and we have two Left 4 Dead titles to play. The last was a strong game of the year contender, and so is this one. In regards to sales, the second will probably move more units than the multi-million selling first. Will the company drop another on us next year, making it three titles in three years? How will we feel about that kind of a move?
Title release annuity bears deadly association. Madden and Guitar Hero continually teach consumers minor gameplay improvements, roster updates, and new songs equate to a premium retail price. That’s bad. But Valve’s efforts here in further elaborating upon a basic idea with many tonal notes, while addressing prior issues, demonstrate a positive possible counterweight to the fundamental idea and purpose of publishing annual titles. This isn’t just one of the best titles this year, it’s a necessary revolution.
