然而，不成功的游戏太多了，组成了一出永远不会终结的悲剧。像Simogo工作室（游戏邦注：代表作包括《Device 6》、《Year Walk》和《Beat Sneak Bandit》）这样的工作室极少获得关注，让我感到非常沮丧。有些游戏有幸得到一点儿关注，帮开发者挣了一些钱——如《Super Hexagon, 》、《Super Crate Box》、《Joe Danger Touch》、《Triple Town》、《Drop7》，但这样的游戏并没有你想象得那样多。
App Store每周都会推出大量新游戏，再加PC领域的独立游戏开发的兴起，这些已经足够让我欢呼雀跃的了，我实在找不到什么理由花350美元入手PS4，更别说430美元的Xbox One。
然而，我很欣慰地发现在这个异常的后主机时代，我不是一个人。Tom Bissell曾写了一篇文章，详细地解释《侠盗猎车手5》是关于变老的游戏，改变了你和电子游戏的关系。专栏作家Leigh Alexander最近表达了同样的幻灭感——她在文章中表示，她惊恐地发现也许主机游戏再也不适合她了。
对某些人来说，这是完全合理的。但我更怀念《Granny Smith》中简单到愚蠢的、有趣到低俗的体验，《Ridiculous Fishing》的紧张搞怪，《Drop7》的巧妙创意，还有在《The Room》闲逛数小时的欢乐或者解决《Hundreds》中那些特别复杂的迷题。《Super Hexagon》和《Pivvot》是对你的反应的严酷考验。尽管《植物大战僵尸2》给我带来那么多个小时的欢乐，但我还没有为它花一分钱。还有好玩的《Triple Town》，总是帮我打发掉通勤时的无聊时光。
还有很多很多手机游戏，《Year Walk》、《Impossible Road》、《Stickets》、《Bean’s Quest》、《Infinity Field HD》、《Bad Hotel》、《Clash Of Heroes》、《Little Inferno》……那么多有趣却被遗忘的游戏，只需要花几块钱甚至免费就能玩到。对于空闲时间越来越少的老一辈玩家来说，iPad和iPhone已经成为强大的游戏平台。忘记你对主机游戏的罪恶感吧！（本文为游戏邦/gamerboom.com编译，拒绝任何不保留版权的转载，如需转载请联系：游戏邦）
Next-gen can wait: why iOS games scratch the itch that Big Console Games can’t
by Neil Long
I don’t plan to buy a PS4 or Xbox One, because I already own the most vibrant game platforms out there right now. iOS games are cheaper, more immediate and they seek to satisfy quickly; increasingly, they reflect how we play games now – there’s an older generation of players who simply cannot take their TV hostage for hours on end for what is a solitary, almost selfish pursuit.
There are countless weird, interesting, exciting, abstract games on the App Store, and most lie tragically underappreciated and undiscovered. Some have sold enough to keep their creator going for another few months, and a tiny, select few have gone through the stratosphere; iOS success stories are few and far between, sadly, but when they break through, they really break through.
There are so many that haven’t, and it’s an ongoing tragedy. It continues to frustrate me that prodigiously talented, original thinkers like Simogo (creator of the daring Device 6, wonderful Year Walk and toe-tapping Beat Sneak Bandit) get so few column inches. Some games receive a little recognition, and earn decent money for their creators – games like Super Hexagon, Super Crate Box, Joe Danger Touch, Triple Town, Drop7 – but not as much as you might think.
So why the lack of recognition in the games media? There’s still a lingering sense in some quarters that they’re not ‘proper’ games if they’re on mobile. More obviously, mobile games coverage doesn’t get much traffic. It’s a hard sell. I can look at Comscore right now and tell you, the loyal Edge reader, that our reviews of mobile games don’t get nearly as many pageviews as anything we cover on console or PC. And yet we’ll keep commissioning them; we believe in this strangely neglected slice of the game industry, especially when, for me personally, Xbox One and PS4 are doing so little to excite right now.
Device 6 is a brilliant, original iPad game.
Indeed, compare the console games scene to the surfeit of new, unusual delights that arrive every single week on the App Store, and then add in the continually delightful indie uprising on PC and, for me, there’s very little reason to drop over ￡350 on PS4, let alone ￡430 on Xbox One.
Console games have become too big and too demanding of my time. In the pursuit of adding ever more content to their games, studios have unintentionally birthed the odd phenomenon of the ‘pile of shame’ – an ever growing stack of unopened, unloved console games that evokes an uneasy guilt in its owner. It revolves around the notion that you’ve somehow done your passion a disservice by failing to appreciate each and every important new offering – that you’re not a ‘true gamer’. How absurd.
Its genesis is in the hobbyist desire to build a collection of things you care about, I suppose – to feel like you have working knowledge of an artform so that you can discuss it intelligently. You’ll find plentiful references to the Pile Of Shame on social media and on forums, and even the odd guide from game sites looking to help you grit your teeth and get through them all. But why should playing games be a joyless slog? Wouldn’t you rather be doing something out of pleasure, rather than obligation?
And yet the guilt persists. Should I feel ashamed, given my profession, that i’ve never played a BioShock game, or a Mass Effect, or an Assassin’s Creed? I haven’t even played Skyrim. GTAV will likely be the last blockbuster console game I play, and even then it has inspired a strange kind of discomfort. When it is brilliant, and it often is, it is everything a Big Console Game should be in 2013 – a technical marvel, an explosive thrillride, an illicit romp around a pretend city in which you can do as you please. But when it’s disappointing, it’s really disappointing. It seems to be a fitting swansong for my days of playing console games; a game too large for me to truly retain interest in, abandoned midway through. Michael, Franklin and Trevor sit forever in limbo, never to reach the end of their journey.
GTAV: destined to be abandoned, half-finished, like so many other Big Console Games.
It is, however, heartening to see that I’m not alone in this unusual post-console funk; Tom Bissell’s magnificent ‘Dear Niko’ piece on Grantland is as much an examination of what GTAV gets right and wrong as it is a piece about getting older, and how that changes your relationship with videogames. Edge columnist Leigh Alexander recently expressed similar disillusionment – her what games are right now piece on Kotaku encapsulates that creeping feeling that, maybe, this stuff just isn’t made for me any more.
It might just be a nostalgia thing. Mine was the Mario and Sonic generation, the NES, Mega Drive and SNES era in which games felt instant and somehow purer. Controls and actions were simple, and I visited bizarre new places in which asexual, egg-spitting dinosaurs guarded end-of-stage exits the shape of giant eagle heads. I explored chequered landscapes upon which superfast blue hedgehogs could be teleported, with the right know-how, into glorious psychedelic half-pipes; these were thrilling, otherworldly experiences sculpted out of colour and imagination.
My interest in videogames waned terribly several years into the PlayStation generation; I think the breaking point was attempting to engage with Gran Turismo, having eagerly gobbled up every bit of the extraordinary hype around it within the games magazines of the day. It looked incredible, but its overwhelming scale, complexity and, well, schoolmasterish seriousness made me think: ‘this is not for me anymore.’
It’s not entirely Gran Turismo’s fault, of course, but ever since, the era of the Big Console Game has, in some cases, turned into a race to pack in ever more content, for deeper, more meaningful and apparently more mature experiences. Or, indeed, devices to simply keep that disc in your tray so that you might buy some DLC.
That’s perfectly fine for some. But I want the stupid, fun slapstick of Granny Smith; the surprising tension and brinksmanship of Ridiculous Fishing; the limitless brilliance that is Drop7. There are more involving games, of course – there are few greater delights than poking around The Room for a few hours, or working through the taxing spacial puzzles in Hundreds. Super Hexagon and its videogame cousin Pivvot are each wonderfully hypnotic tests of your reflexes, and I’ve yet to spend a single penny on Plants Vs Zombies 2, despite the many hours of entertainment it has lavished upon me. And there’s always Triple Town, a constant, compelling companion with the apparent ability to bend time on boring commutes.
There are hundreds more, if you can find them. Try Year Walk. Try Impossible Road. Try Stickets. Try Bean’s Quest. Try Infinity Field HD. Bad Hotel, Clash Of Heroes, Little Inferno – all wonderful, half-forgotten games available now for a few pounds, or for free. iPad and iPhone have each become formidable games platforms for an entire generation of time-poor players. Forget your pile of shame, and join us.(source:edge-online)