Cosmic Sheep Writes

My blog centred around my 3 main interests: gaming analysis, food and poetry.

Jerry Seinfeld is like a game that doesn’t respect your time

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Jerry Seinfled reminds me of bloated AAA games, there I said it. The ageing comic far past his prime has marched onward into the inevitable slog of entering into the twilight years of his career, lamenting it all the while. Accompanied by core tenements of an ailing star far past their prime, who, seemingly to spite us all, can’t stop guffing out mundane and dated takes. So “show business is dead ”, right Jerry, any proof? Indeed the writer’s strikes were strongly rooted in a disdain for the industry, but show business and the value of cinema? Eh, I don’t see it. “Film doesn’t occupy the pinnacle in the social, cultural hierarchy that it did”, hmm in reference to just what Mr Seinfled?

Having starred and written a film about the origins of pop tarts, Seinfeld and co-star Amy Schumer seem set on bringing back true film (Scorcese would be proud). Comments like these, out of touch and filled with innate guff always seem so far removed from the hegemonic view that is held. So, why am I banging on about Seinfeld? Well, akin to a long-winded game which just won’t let up, he just doesn’t stop bumbling on about pointless crap. Seinfeld, the show at least, is still beloved to this day (partially due to the acerbic writing of Larry David), though Seinfeld himself? Not really. He’s over the hill, nothing wrong with that I may add, but c’mon man, hang the boots up and stop the guff.

I’ve said this phrase numerous times while playing bloated (looking at you Ubisoft) 100 hour plus games that just don’t know when to stop. Now if something is gripping, enthrals you and from your own volition you wish to carry on, great! But as I neared my 30 hour end to Assassin’s creed Valhalla, I found myself like a stranded turtle wallowing in the sun, praying for death. Severe? Eh, I know. But there’s a great deal to be said about games which respect your time and tell a fulfilling tale in the time they occupy. I mean hell, the indie game scene knows this rule to a T. Having recently played through Tunic, Signalis, Dredge and Alisa, all of which do not demand that you sit there watching your cells and life force decay away, day after day. Most games, past the 50 hour mark feel like (keeping with the tortoise references here) watching a turtle cross a field of cheese graters, pure pain. And if you’re bored of wading through the quagmire? Resort to the store! Like a grim concession by the devs, you can acquire experience boosts to circumvent the mind-numbing side quests in order to get back to the good stuff right? What good stuff? A 50 hour plus slog that lays the breadcrumbs before you before snatching them from right under your nose. Like dangling a trifle to a starving pilgrim before plonking a plate of kale in front of them, cheers!

Succinct, compelling experiences, akin to a tight film, are much more valuable to me. There is (akin to Mr Seinfeld) so much guff to wade through in order to reach the good stuff in modern, bloated AAA games that wish to become a 10 year odyssey for players to endure. Games start and (not all) end, with a point. And so few truly warrant these lengthy playtimes. Anyone who knows what fictional truth there is in time travel knows that altering the past can have catastrophic effects. I, for one, would spare no second thought for returning to my past self and wrestling the controller from my hands. If in 10 years we all have chicken heads and float like cosmic nymphs through a cyberpunk world, so be it. Though unfortunately for me time travel ain’t real. The time I spent with these kinds of games was bitterly real.

As I cleared another base or scoured a bland interior area I found myself thinking oh great another poison resistant armour piece, that’ll be useful against that one enemy type found halfway across the map in an area I’m far too overleveled for, great! Loot, mundane fetch quests and dulling story beats all culminate in the bloated AAA game experience, which seems to be imploding ever more as time crawls on. Only once can I say that a game has compelled me for this amount of time. The 2022 release of Elden Ring saw 2 months of my life erased, as I became surrounded by countless bags of doritos, dominos and tepid coffees growing mould upon them, and I like an unbeknownst slob became enamoured by it. Unbeknownst, well, why you ask? Well you see, being compelled and enthralled by a game seems to creep on you in stealth. Much like a silent fart, before you know it, you’re on the floor and hopelessly defenceless to the hold it has over you.

Each winding corner, each plunging depth and soaring snow-lapped peak was baying for me to explore it. I couldn’t get enough. Though like the feeling of walking around in soiled underwear on a summer’s day, most games get more painful as they go on. So came the aforementioned Ubisoft games. Which, akin to a night of spliffs and smash bros, pass you by and see you awakening the next m orning wondering where ten hours of your life has gone.

Like Seinfeld, these titles just keep on going, to all of our detriments. Who, worse than him, are the epitome of cash grabbing, player-exploiting glorified gambling casinos. Take Fifa for instance, or Call of duty, two front-facing games, who, akin to Ken Brockman when the botox supplies ran low (obscure I know) wear a thin veneer of amicability which conceals a festering interior. They are nothing but time vacuums, run by execs who insist that the game shall become the next Fortnite. Everyone wants a forever game, though not everything is Skyrim or Dark Souls, sometimes it’s just a Jerry Seinfeld.

The main argument against short game is value for money, one which I do sympathise with. As a kid I didn’t exactly have the money to pish about willy nilly on random indie titles I’d never heard of, so, I admit in shame, as each year rolled around I lined up for the latest copy of Fifa and Call of duty. Though, my cynicism has only increased with age (I am British after all), seeing me become incredibly dubious and jaded when it comes to these things. Anyone who knows what fictional truth there is in time travel knows that altering the past can have catastrophic effects. I, for one, would spare no second thought for returning to my past self and wrestling the controller from my hands. If in 10 years we all have chicken heads and float like cosmic nymphs through a cyberpunk world, so be it. Though unfortunately for me time travel ain’t real. The time I spent with these kinds of games was bitterly real.

Though what would i value as a child? Well, I loved games like Halo, Mario kart and Minecraft. All of which had feasible endings, or at least limits of enjoyment with Minecraft. There’s only so many times you can subjugate your unwitting friend to an obsidian prison, watching them wallow in sorrow as they had no way to escape. Kids are cruel, what can I say? Though I value these games for something else beyond nostalgia, they had valuable content and definitie ends and goals along with strong replay value. And that is the key term here, value. Halo had a campaign of hopelessness, with memorable setpieces all set against the backdrop of your imminent demise and despair at your futile efforts. Mario Kart retains that replay value due to the fun it holds when playing with friends. Think of playing your favourite tracks, setting best times, unlocking all the characters and karts. These games held something vitally important, fun.

So much of modern AAA gaming (looking at you suicide squad) is all about the ‘grind’. Well, what is the grind? An engaging cycle of rewards and gameplay, well-balanced and enjoyable? Nah, a bare bones cycle of useless gear, pointless rewards and a mundane experience surrounded by laughable, aloof execs who see games only as product and not art nor fun. These are the Jerry Seinfeld genre of games. Things that just drag on and on and on, all the while leaving you wondering, just why won’t you shut the front door? Pointless experiences that cheapen the gaming AAA scene, filling it with ‘content’ games built around shallow and unrewarding gameplays loops. And if you’re bored of wading through the quagmire? Resort to the store! Like a grim concession by the devs, you can acquire experience boosts to circumvent the mind-numbing side quests in order to get back to the good stuff right? What good stuff? A 50 hour plus slog that lays the breadcrumbs before you before snatching them from right under your nose. Like dangling a trifle to a starving pilgrim before plonking a plate of kale in front of them, cheers!

So when I feel this way, I turn towards the sub 15 hour experiences of the indie scene. Games which value your time, which reward you with heartfelt and succinct tales. Or, like an aloof monk awaiting a miracle, I sit around feverishly chanting babble, hoping to will into being another Elden Ring. I’ve sacrificed and I’ve wasted months for you, when’s the sequel out! Getting carried away here, there’s no chicken heads sir, I’m clean.

To avoid these aforementioned trappings, and falling into the dreaded Jerry Seinfeld category, games must warrant these runtimes. And making a game is no easy task, it’s akin to the aforementioned turtle in a cheesegrater field metaphor, it’s long and painful, to the developers detriment each time it occurs. Not everything will be GTA V, Fortnite or Minecraft, and that’s okay. Just stop with these Jerry Seinfeld games, read the room and use the player’s time wisely. Or look to the indie scene, when the bloat of modern forever games begins to drain you. There’s a vast scene of untapped richness, which too often pass by without the attention they so rightly deserve. Value your own time, and choose something that values your time in equal measure.