Videogames can often surprise when focusing on the everyday things that humans are capable of taking for granted be it comfort, the ground below us, or the very basic concept of staying on our feet and keeping on moving.
Despite the outlandish nature of their undead antagonists, there is something comfortingly human about the shared experience of playing zombie video games. This is an experience of digging deep with friends and strangers, hoping to last out against the unpredictable, chaotic and feral nature of the universe with only cooperation, a semi-secure door and some Molotov cocktails.
On Saturday March 30, 2019, real life attempted to mirror the appeal of a videogame by bringing together athletes that were some of the greatest players of their age.
How then does a real-life ‘dream team’ compared to their pixel perfect, ageless avatars?
Unlike humans, genres arguably never die. But much like us, they do get older, adapting in unique ways to the rigours of time, while stubbornly sticking to other things they maybe should have let go. Out of this, greatness is sometimes haphazardly realised
A game cannot have a soul in the traditional sense of the word – if such a thing exists at all.
Yet in true videogame form, the entire basis of The Last Guardian is built around the principle of making you believe there may be something organic and sentient within the programming of Trico.
Sometimes, it takes a videogame to show us that the act of taking a selfie, in our modern world at least, is a very human – if annoying – way of telling stories
Is Monster Hunter World’s initial complexity and esoteric nature designed as a deliberate part of the game’s challenge, or unintended development choices? The answer is probably somewhere in the middle