Saturday, February 27, 2010

Hitler? You Mean that Guy from "Call of Duty"?

So despite the fact that I've finally recovered from my last conference presentation on Resident Evil 5 and King Solomon's Mines (I promise I'll post a summary of it at some point; I need all the feedback I can get as I'm going to revise it in hopes of publication) I'm throwing myself once more into the breech with yet another one. This time the proposal deadline really snuck up on me, so this post is more for me to draft my ideas than to seek feedback (though that would be nice too, especially if I'm not accepted). This time around, I'm submitting not to a pop culture conference, but an English language and literature one in the area of pedagogy--specifically technology and education--for the purpose of discussing the use of video game adaptations in teaching.

The title of my proposal comes from an amusing (albeit frightening) anecdote that one of my colleagues likes to tell about trying to place a reading in the context of the Holocaust for his students, who largely knew nothing of the event. That some were only aware of the perpetrator of this dark moment in history because of his customary inclusion as the villain of a World War II video game is disturbing sign of the times.

More and more, our students are learning from the titillating versions of what we would teach. But how, as teachers, do we deal with this great gap in learning when our students seem all too eager to fill with the version that features zombies, machine guns, and inhumanly powerful and attractive heroes? The answer is simply that we must use it.


By looking at the potential for tangential learning that video games can provide (as opposed to the kind of edutainment that has failed in the past), it becomes an obvious (albeit understandably ludicrous) proposition. But this presentation will study how it can be done now, how it's been done in the past, and what we as teachers should prepare for in the future.

Questions? Quibbles? Controversies?

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Constructive Criticism: Some Thoughts on my Course Evaluations

At the end of every semester, our students are encouraged to fill out Course Evaluations for all of their classes. As I've mentioned before, I'm a big believer in this practice and take my evaluations pretty seriously. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, it often takes a few months for these evaluations to be released--it's February and I'm just now able to view the results (a little late, if I needed to make any drastic changes). Still, I thought I'd look at some of the constructive comments made about my courses and discuss (as well as open for discussion) how I can go about learning from them.

Note: the evaluations are anonymous, but for further security, I'm not going differentiate which comments came from which courses (since all class have the same evaluations).

The instructor was enthusiastic about the course.
Soometimes got a little too excited about comic books--I, of course, admit to getting way too excited about comics, on occasion. And while I don't necessarily see passion as a bad thing, it can, I believe, intimidate students already shy about expressing/forming their own opinions.
The instructor had their bad days.--I definitely know what this student is talking about. I had some serious problems with one of my classes last semester, and more often than not, I took it out on them. That's not to say they were not a problem, but more that they were only part of it. I feel a better attitude on my part would have won them over a little better.

The course was intellectually challenging.
a little too challenging sometimes
I had to actually try because Canada said you grade harshly and only give people Cs--"Canada" is the nickname of a former student. I do admit, I like shaking student expectations up by telling them I don't give Bs or As; they have to earn them. But this is something I often feel my students take out of context. I admit freely, early in the semester, that I have high expectations of my students--pointing out that the same level of work that earned them a C in a previous class will not be enough to earn them a C in my class--when you advance to a higher level course, the level of work advances too. That said, I make my students a deal--if they show up to class and do their work properly, I will give them a C. That is to say, even beginning writers can pass my class while experienced ones are still expected to show it. The syllabus is designed this way (I had actually very little to do with it). Unfortunately, this often means that experienced writers, or ones used to doing the bare minimum and still Acing their classes, are often in for a rude awakening. In other words, I don't care how good of a writer you are, I still want to see your rough drafts, your tutoring slips from the Writing Center, and your butt in your seat when class begins. I think that's fair, right?

The instructor was fair and impartial in assigning grades.
More As would have been cool--I also admit to being a very nitpicking instructor. An A to me, usually means there are no problems--are questions are answered, all points are defended, all evidence is cited, etc. I've been told I've become more lenient as I progress--by a student who took three classes with me, no less! And yes, I failed more students last semester than I ever had before last semester, but I also had more students earn As and Bs last semester than ever. Still, I know I need to lighten up on some things.

Course objectives were clearly stated.
Needed to explain it more.--I'm really bad about this. In fact, some classes have gone by without me discussing them more than once. I'm endeavoring this semester to bring them up every time we begin a new project, so that the students can see how it relates to the course, but I still often forget. I'm not sure what it is about them that must make them see unimportant to me subconsciously, because I certainly don't maliciously leave them out. I think better planning on my part is necessary.


The instructor was willing and available to help students outside the class.
Sometimes when they had the time.--This is something I'm also not that great about, in that I do the bare minimum. I give my students my office phone number (which sends voice mail to me e-mail), my e-mail address, and my office hours. I do my best to respond to student calls and e-mails as soon as possible, and I stick to my office hours unless something comes up (and I try to inform students of canceled hours as soon as possible). But I simply do not like working in my office. I'm not sure why, but as soon as I don't have to be on campus anymore, I go home. If a student can't meet during my regular office hours, I'll definitely stick around for a time that better suits their schedule (so long as it doesn't interfere with mine). But otherwise, I can rarely just be "found" on campus. Part of me says I'm doing all I need to do, but part of me definitely feels guilty that I don't make myself as available as some other instructors who put in eight hour days regardless of how few classes or office hours they have.

If you have any additional comments.
Watch more movies...that was fun...--Believe me, I would love to show more films in class! Today's students are so film illiterate, I consider it a necessity for their future education to show at least one film in every class, but there simply is not time. I usually give students two days off from class for individual conferences, and then still hold "extra credit" classes to show a film they have to write a short response to. Sadly, very few students take advantage of this, but I do wish I could find a couple of days to watch a film for credit in every class. I've done some moving around of assignments in all my classes this semester, and so long we as we don't fall behind, we should have a couple of free days to watch a film in each one.

These are hardly all of the comments I got, though I didn't get any straight negative ones (I always seem to really upset a few students, so I'm taking this as a good sign). Most of the others were positive, and I will certainly learn from those, as well--as things I should keep doing. But I really wanted to reflect on the more constructive ones, and I'm glad I did. That's not to say I have the answer to any of these issues (and hopefully, some of you will weigh in), but I've got some ideas.

Questions? Quibbles? Controversies?

Monday, February 15, 2010

My Thoughts on "The Hangover"--One for My Students

So some of my students are baffled about how I can talk about so-called classics like Casablanca or Star Wars when I haven't even seen The Hangover. And they're probably right. I opposed seeing the film after the first previews, mentally assigning it between Superbad and just-another-Will-Ferrel-movie in the categories of dumb comedies! How dare I categorize it, saying it was less than those other great films without seeing it?! So  I resolved to put it on my Netflix queue, only to find that my wife had already snuck it on (that saucy minx), and finally got to watch it this past weekend. And now I can say, with authority, that it falls somewhere between Superbad and just-another-Will-Ferrel-movie in the categories of dumb comedies. Let me explain.

In my students' defense, I can see why they like it, and to be fair, I certainly got a chuckle out of it at several scenes. And to be even more fair, I was probably looking to not like it in the first place.But even in trying to put aside those biases, I don't see what all the fuss is about. Indeed, as 2009 came to a close, several movie sites placed The Hangover in their "Best of 2009" lists, and I just don't get that.

I should also say, that this kind of comedy simply doesn't appeal to me all that much. I prefer my comedies to be clever, as opposed to just trying to shock me with absurdity. If I had to pin the funniest movie I saw last year, I'd probably put down Zombieland for it's hilarious use of "Rules" that interact with the action, Bill Murray's priceless cameo, and Tallahassee's quest to find the last twinkie on Earth (which, incidentally, would have also made a great title for the film). That doesn't mean I didn't crack up in The Hangover when Ken Jeong jumped out of the trunk of a car naked and wielding a crow bar (particularly since I think the guy's priceless and, after years of bit parts, I'm glad he's finally found a home as Community's Senor Chang). It just means that I sat puzzled over the majority of the film's humour. Really, hitting babies with car doors? That's what we're using for comedy nowadays?

In the end, I suppose I have more of a problem with what The Hangover represents as opposed to having a problem with the movie itself. Sure, it was funny, but mostly, I just worry that if this is the "best" movie my students saw last year, what are they missing out on?

Monday, February 1, 2010

"Bioshock" Doesn't Wow Me

I've always done my best to avoid movies that are trumped as the greatest of our time because I always seem to be disappointed by the results. After forcing myself to finally finish Okami last year, being unable to force myself through No More Heroes, and Bioshock being my first game beaten this year, I feel as though I may need to adopt the same policy for video games. All three games I played primarily because of the high praise they received in the community. And all three left me wanting.

That's not to say that I think Bioshock is bad (far from it). It just didn't "wow" me like I'd heard it would. To start with though, I'll begin with what I liked. From an artistic standpoint, this game is excellent. The setting, character design, atmosphere, music (an anthology of 1950s classics), voice acting, sound, etc., are all spot on. A lot of care clearly went into making this game as immersive as possible. All these things initially pulled me into the game very well. And one of the things I absolutely loved about the game in its earlier stages were how much playing it felt like being on a ride at Disney World--I mean what could be a greater feat than making you believe you're somewhere you're not and in danger when you're not?

From a technical aspect too, the game is quite good. Almost everything works when it should (I did get stuck in a glitch once and had to kill myself to get clear of it), and the controls are intuitive.

So with all this good, what problems could I have with the game? Only the most toted part: the storytelling. For that, I turn you over to IGN's five minute recap if you're unfamiliar with the game (or need a refresher) and don't mind spoilers.


BioShock 2 PlayStation 3 Video - BioShock In Five Minutes

To start with here, I need to finally return to a complaint I left unspoken when I lazily reviewed Half-Life 2 and its other first-person shooter clichés: I hate video games that make me a "gopher." You know, "Go for this, go for that." That's Half-Life 2 felt like to me most of the time. I felt like an extremely well-armed errand boy. And Bioshock made me feel exactly the same way. The initial splendor of the game's environment, mystery, and survival horror elements wore off after I received about my 50th order to "go find this key," or "kill this leader," or "deliver this ice cream cone," and I'd even quit playing for a couple of weeks.

Now, before the backlash begins, I realize that about half-way through the game, the story conjures up an explanation for this cliché in this game (whereas Half-Life 2 had me continually asking, "Really?! I'm the only one in the entire resistance who can open that door/kill that bad guy/save that kitten stuck in the tree?!"). The "would you kindly" catchphrase of supposed ally Atlus/Fontaine is probably one of the best video game twists ever. And it was when I got to that point in the game I became re-interested enough to finish it. That this double-agent has been subconsciously ordering you around (like an errand boy) is a brilliant way of masking what is a very guided/directed game. The only problem there is that it doesn't mask anything at all! There's no hint or clue concerning your subconscious slavery until just before you discover it, so I think my quick annoyance with the game prior to this is fair, especially since this game mechanic continues after breaking from Fontaine's mind control.

My other major problem with the game is how its difficulty undermines its atmosphere. That is to say, this game is much too easy to be as interesting as the story. Now perhaps I should also point out that preceding this game, I'd been on my second play through of Demon's Souls (what is considered one of the most difficult games ever). And in comparison, I can see how any other game might seem trivial, but even still, I've got to point out some odd development choices here.

For starters, we have the game's hacking mechanic. You can pretty much hack your way through this game: hack vending machines and you can access cheap items and ammo; hack turrets and security and you can add some extra fire power to your side; hack safes and combination locks and you can find all kinds of goodies to make your game easier. Hacking something begins the mini-game mentioned in IGN's recap above. If it looks familiar it's because this is puzzle that's been around in gaming for over two decades. It was 1989, and the game was Pipe Mania for the Amiga personal computer. And while I never played it's original version, incarnations of it have been appearing in games for almost a decade to my knowledge: I remember playing through the same thing as far back as Batman: Vengeance for the GameCube. Now, why on earth would you choose to build a game changing mechanic into your video game based on an older video game my 8-year old brother could figure out?

And as if that didn't make things easy enough, there are an entire set of plasmids for making hacking easier! In fact, there are an entire set of plasmids for making everything easier! Which brings me to my next critique: Bioshock's moral choice system. This was all the rage when this game came out, and we're seeing it's continued evolution in games like inFamous and the Mass Effect series. When you find a Little Sister toting her ADAM (your source of superpower), you can either kill her for tons of the stuff or take just enough to rescue her from the ADAM's influence will keeping her alive. But your choice makes little to no difference in the game. There's little reason to kill them for their ADAM, as just rescuing them allows you more than enough ADAM over the course of the game to max out your best plasmids. And aside from a change in the game's ending,  little else changes based on your choice except that for rescuing Little Sisters, their caregiver provides you with powerful presents as a reward, which essentially balances things out. The real choice with Little Sisters then is whether or not to deal with their bodyguards, the Big Daddies.

However, as the game progresses, you have less and less reason (if any at all) to fear these encounters. While powerful, these foes are not particularly difficult to defeat. There are several ways of dealing with them in relatively safe means: whether it's laying traps for them or taking advantage of their weakness to electricity. And should you happen to die, you're immediately brought back to life via the city's Vita-Chambers. And when I say immediately, I mean immediately. The Big Daddy in question sticks to where you were last fighting him and even stays at whatever health level you took him down to before dying, making death essentially a minor inconvenience (in fact, with a little patience, there isn't even a reason to buy or seek out health sources at any point in the game save the final boss fight). And while the rest of the game's enemies continually get better armed, armoured, agile, and by extension, difficult to kill, Big Daddies seem to stay about the same for the entire game.

This is one of the more disappointing parts of the game, as the Big Daddy has become revered as one of the more ominous and infamous gaming baddies in the last few years. And the only reason I got excited about being one at the end of the game was getting to make their tell-tale stomping sound when I walked.

Now, of course, as some will no doubt point out, I could have just raised the game's difficulty (which can be done at any point, little on screen messages kept telling me). But I simply wasn't that interested to do so. I was mainly playing the game for its story anyway, and the game's mechanics didn't jazz me enough to voluntarily prolong the experience.

In the end, I appreciate that Bioshock is a very important game. It pushed the medium forward and gave us one of the most engaging and atmospheric first person shooters ever. But for me, it was marred by several poor choices in execution that kept me from really appreciating it--in fact, as much as I like the "Would You Kindly" twist, had a more standout phrase been used, I could see how this game might have lived on in "The Cake is a Lie"-esque infamy. As it is, though, this was merely a game just a little above average for me, when what I was expecting/promised was a completely mind-blowing experience.

Questions? Quibbles? Controversies?

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